I arrived early at my church one morning. It was quiet; staff members had not yet arrived. I sat on a comfortable sofa in the carpeted entry and just listened. I realized that even “quiet” isn’t silent. The renovated building has a life of its own. Locks engage and disengage on a timed schedule. Systems run on power generated elsewhere and emit a low, barely audible vibrating hum that is almost more felt than heard. I had walked around the building earlier in the week and noted the multiple large utility boxes that control its power on the south side of the 60,000+ square foot box-configured facility. I had been acquainted with this building in its prior iteration, before Hurricane Michael….. It was a noisy, active hub with a diverse mix of activities going on from early morning until into the evening. Its visitors focused a lot on physical fitness and lively team activities and groups moving about on hard surface floors, using workout equipment, talking sports. It was designed for movement and for fostering the FUSION of spirit, soul, and body. It was a genial and welcoming space that suggested a vibe of active, externalized religiously-affiliated self-focus. Jesus was there, to be sure, be He seemed more like a staff member than the reason for all the activity.
Today the building is completely reconfigured and repurposed. With the loss of our primary worship facility on Transmitter Rd, in Hurricane Michael in 2028, this building, after significant post-Hurricane remodeling, is now our only church building. We have gradually resumed a broad range of activities and programs since occupancy began in late 2021 and COVID began receding.
There is a considerably different feel today…….. beyond just the quietness. There is a peace, a presence, a sacredness to the space that invites me to be at home here.
It is a welcoming space….. where the Lord greets me as I enter, as the Master of the house.