A defining moment that left an indelible mark on my view of church came in the mid 1980’s. I was working in Vienna, Austria with a group that printed bibles in eastern European languages. Part of my work was to make sure they got into the hands of those who needed them. I made contact with a pastor in Budapest who could channel bibles into the countries east of Hungary. We made arrangements to meet early Sunday morning and then he would take me to where his underground (not recognized by the state) church was meeting that Sunday. The streets that morning were all but deserted and the smell of sulfur was thick in the air (coal was used to heat many buildings). We took a trolley away from the center of the city and then at it the terminus transferred to a bus. At the apartment building we quietly walked up several flights of stairs and then came to a door that stood slightly ajar. We walked into the entryway where we took off our shoes and coats then proceeded into a larger room, which was dark because the shades had been drawn. There were already a few people there and after introductions were made, one of the brothers began to pray. And thus began a quiet time of worship. At the end (after a couple of hours) we talked while the host served juice, coffee and cookies. Then, as quietly as we arrived people began to disperse, back into the community where they were living “leaven” and “light”.
I see the Well as an “underground church”, a network of people quietly (but purposefully) following Jesus. We occasionally gather together but more often than not we see each other at a community gathering, a party or at the work place. Living in a culture where many churches and Christians feel threatened and under siege we cannot “circle the wagons” and retreat. A friend who served among Arabs and Muslims once told me that we will not reach out to those we fear. Who do we fear?
