IVP - Strangely Dim

The Church with Nothing to Say

by David A. Zimmerman

Every time I drive past a billboard with nothing on it I'm a bit startled. I suppose that's how I know that I'm being affected by advertising--I miss it when it's missing. I also notice the signs that read "Advertise Here": I feel something like an obligation to advertise there, to fill the spot that we as an economy have abandoned to loneliness.

But in all my days I don't recall ever seeing a blank sign outside a church until a few weeks ago. I was driving down the street and realized that this church--a mainstay in my community for decades--had nothing to say to me. I was startled, of course, but I found myself moving through a range of emotions, from offense to confusion to panic to despair to anticipation.

I expect more out of church billboards, I guess. Most billboards sit in isolation from the wares they hawk--they're jutting out of the ground on a roadside in the middle of nowhere, while the product they promote is being canned, bottled or wrapped in a sweatshop on the other side of the world, for all I know. Or they're clumped together along the interstate clamoring for attention, sometimes morphing from one message to another as we drive past. Once again the product exists only in the imagination of the observer. It can't be tasted or touched from where we sit.

In contrast, church billboards sit in the church's front lawn. You know (or you think you know) who the author is of whatever message they project, and you process that message based on what you read. My all-time favorite church billboard message was a sermon title followed by a general message:

Eternal Conscious Punishment

Visitors Welcome

But this church had nothing to say to me. At first I was offended: it's the church's job to say something to me, isn't it? But then I wondered what it means when a church has nothing to say. It's a frightening thought, really. This is the institution, we're taught, that's been entrusted by God with "the words of eternal life." If the church has run out of words, perhaps God has run out of words for us--perhaps God has given up on us.

Then again, perhaps God is just clearing his throat. Billboards don't stay blank for long. They're either torn down or given a new message. Perhaps the church is preparing itself to convey the next big message from God. As Moses said to the people of Israel, "They are not just idle words for you--they are your life." This is my life--coming soon to a billboard near me.

The next time I saw the billboard it did indeed bear a new message: "Pancake Breakfast Saturday, 9 to 11."

***

I haven't given an update on my book in a while. It's still in stores, and I'm still occasionally being interviewed about it. I suspect that the spring and summer movie season will revive interest in the subject matter; there are three major theatrical releases related to comic books in the next four months. I'll be having a number of related articles published soon, and keep in mind that there's a free discussion guide available for download that gives you an excuse to watch six classic superhero movies with all your friends.

If you've read the book and enjoyed it, consider writing a review on Amazon.com or similar bookselling websites. I'd be your buddy!