The garish sign caught my attention, piquing my interest as we slow-rolled through yet another nearly desolate town. We’d already driven through a dozen similar ones. Memory towns, I call them. Their days of thriving hustle and bustle have long since passed. Storefronts are abandoned. Buildings are rundown. Population has dramatically dwindled. With the exception of established farmers, residents have chosen to move closer to the cities where things are more accessible, educational opportunities are greater, career options less exhaustible. The only thing left in these now nearly uninhabited towns are memories of what used to be. Memories and real estate signs.
We saw plenty of those too. Real estate signs. Nearly every deserted town had them. Signs of distant hope posted in front of old houses, closed restaurants, vacant shops, and run-down hotels. Beautifully crafted signs with specific attention to detail. Elegantly scrolling fonts. Eye-catching color schemes. Largely printed phone numbers to call and websites to visit. Every sign beckoning, or begging, passersby to come take a look, consider a purchase. Every sign, except one.
On the middle of main street, across from yet another row of abandoned storefronts, a different type of sign had been hammered into the yard of yet another building no longer in use. It lacked the finesse of the signs placed by professional real estate agents. There was no beautiful lettering. No advertising logo. No tantalizing declaration of a beautiful view, spacious living area, or large yard. There was only the sign. Unquestionably purchased at the hardware store, nailed into a rough-hewn piece of leftover firewood, and hammered into the overgrown lawn of a once beautiful church, the orange letters screamed out from the black background, “For Sale.”
I can’t seem to forget that sign. It haunts me. Troubles me. Causes concern to settle like a rock in the pit of my stomach. In spite of every logical reason for that church building to be on the market, the words ring in my mind like a screaming indictment of our spiritual condition, our riff on Biblical truths, our inaction toward the complacency blanketing our congregations. It highlights the unavoidable truth that the church, called to be dedicated and sanctified to Christ alone, is so clearly for sale. To the lowest bidder. To the fewest requirements. To the easiest way.
Perhaps you haven’t noticed. Perhaps you have missed the obvious bent toward a more palatable path. Perhaps you have turned a blind eye to the wandering, unwilling to acknowledge that the church of our day has become nearly indistinguishable from the world. There’s nothing there to remind us of the powerhouse churches commemorated in the Book of Acts. There’s nothing to encourage us to seek the old paths of righteousness and absolute surrender. There’s nothing that points us to the largely unused, narrow gate that leads to eternal life. No. The mainstream church of our day is busy selling a gospel that requires little and pays even less. Mimicking our society, we’ve become enthralled with cheap grace, assuming that the sinner’s prayer we prayed as a child is sufficient. It’s not. Ask Solomon? (Jeremiah 6:16; Matthew 7:13-14; Colossians 2:6-7; I Timothy 4:15-16; James 4:17)
He was clearly a man blessed by God. His wisdom was legendary. His wealth was immeasurable. His fame spread across the ancient world like wildfires covering ground in a drought. His intelligent organization and oversight built the temple of the Lord that his father David only dreamed of being able to build. It built a lot of other things too. Lesser things. Earthly things. Ungodly things. Like temples of worship for the false gods of his many wives. Wives he shouldn’t even have had. Foreign wives with pagan gods, pagan beliefs, pagan practices. Wives he’d taken in spite of God’s direct command not to do so. Wives that would eventually turn his heart from fully following the God who had blessed him beyond measure, removed his enemies, and given him peace on every side. (I Kings 1:28-11:13)
With the laying of every foundational brick, the raising of every wall, the building of every altar in those pagan houses of worship, Solomon was effectively hammering a “for sale” sign in front of the temple he’d erected to God alone. His heart had drifted away. He’d placed his own soul on the auction block. Others would follow suit. It wouldn’t be only the building essentially up for grabs. The hearts of the people would be too. Not for the first time, God’s people would be placed in a position to choose. Good or evil. Right or wrong. Life or death. Heaven or hell. (Deuteronomy 30)
Since the days their ancestors had traversed the wilderness with Moses, they’d been hearing about choices. Easy choices. Understandable choices. Eternal choices. Moses had gathered the people before him and laid it out in words even a child could understand. Words that echoed in every household throughout every generation. They knew the options. They knew to do good. They knew to obey God. They knew their obedience would reap life everlasting. They knew it was their choice. Completely up to them. But they couldn’t ride the fence. They couldn’t claim the rewards of full surrender and obedience to God while gleefully indulging in the sins of the world. They knew their choice was the same as the one presented by Joshua decades before, “Choose who you will serve. Now. Today. God or gods.” For sale or sold. Show your hand. Pick which you are and hammer a sign in your yard. (Deuteronomy 30:11-14; Joshua 24:14-15)
In comparison to the surrounding buildings of that decrepit town we traveled through, the church for sale did not appear to be in terrible disrepair. The red brick facade had no obvious deterioration. The corners were intact. The mortar was uncompromised. The windows, though coated in dust and grime, remained unbroken. Although the yard needed mowing and the shrubs trimming, it was nothing a few hours and some lawn equipment couldn’t set to rights. From the outside looking in, that church appeared to be in fine condition. Perhaps the trouble was within.
Perhaps there had been a deluge of rain and high winds that loosened the shingles and poured water into the sanctuary, damaging walls and carpet and pews beyond repair. Perhaps the pipes had frozen in an unusually cold winter storm and the plumbing repairs were far beyond what the budget could afford. Perhaps mold had been found in the basement, rodents had infested the storeroom, or bats had invaded the belfry. Maybe. Maybe not. I really have no idea. I do know this. When we choose to hammer a “For Sale” sign in the yard of our soul, the trouble is always inside. We are wavering between belief systems. We are questioning right and wrong. We are being tempted to sell out to a form of substandard godliness that will have us choosing spiritual death over eternal life. (James 1:8; Ephesians 4:14-16; II Timothy 3:1-5; Matthew 7:15)
In his first letter to the church at Corinth, the Apostle Paul states we are all part of the body of Christ. Together. You see, before the church building is built, before the congregation is formed, individual people must consciously make the choice to be God’s people. Part of His body. Members of His kingdom. Personally. Individually. You. Me. Through that one commitment, we are the church of Christ. The one He wants to present, holy and blameless, without spot or wrinkle. It seems we have some work to do. Some heavy questions to ask. Some sobering answers to choose. Will we hold fast the profession of our faith without wavering, without selling out to lesser convictions, without lowering our standards, without compromising our morals? Will we resist the urge to give way to a more socially acceptable religion? Are we even marginally interested in accepting a watered down version of “Jesus lite” or embracing cheap grace for which we never feel the pinch of sacrifice, the sting of surrender? Are we devoted to God, sold out to His Word, committed to His commands, His laws, His ways, no matter how unpopular they may be. Have we hammered a sign in the yards of our souls that unequivocally states where we stand? Does anybody know? Does everybody know? Are you sold out to God or for sale to the world? (I Corinthians 12:12-27; Romans 12:5; Ephesians 5:27; Hebrews 10:23; James 4:7)
Sold out to God!