A kind elderly gentleman approached my table yesterday. His question was one I am asked frequently, once they discover I am a pastor. They ask, “Where’s your church?”
My answer may have seemed a bit smart alecky. Okay, many of my answers are kind of that way. But I didn’t mean it to be this time. I try not to always be a smarty pants, but it comes so naturally. Back to my story.
I said, “There’s my church – over there in that booth. There are some in Lynchburg at work, many working their farms all over Appomattox, and more enjoying spring break (or driving parents crazy in spring break). But you’re probably referring to the building. That is in Evergreen.”
He kind of stared at me in bewilderment (like the congregation most Sunday mornings) … but light came on. I don’t serve a building, shepherd a property, or tend to the needs of facility. That’s just a place we meet. But during the week, the church is outside the walls and in the community.
Now … if that is so, why do we think we have to invite people to Sunday morning service to experience the church, the family of God? They should see the way our church is by our actions, our fruit of love, joy, peace, etc. They will know we are the church by our love for one another, by our concern for them, and by our walk.
Simply put, we don’t go to church, we are the church … so this week – be the church wherever your journey takes you.
Post note … this is not a reason to skip the Sunday morning family gathering, we need that too. It’s pretty important. So see you Sunday if you’re in my neck of the world. If not around here, go be with the church.
Muddy Shoes by Todd 
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