FHMCC

First Heavy Metal Church of Christ

That's where we worshipped yesterday. It is exactly as the name implies. If you're thinking it might have been way out of my comfort zone, it was. Yet, it had an amazing impact on my heart.

We had decided to take a couple weeks off from our church and serving to do a few things. This Sunday just happened to be wide open when a friend asked if we wanted to check out this church in Dayton. They aren't members and only attend on occasion. It's about a 75 minute drive. Not close at all.

My friend gave me a list of warnings, but nothing prepared me for what I saw and only the Lord could have prepared my heart.

As we pulled up to the mid 1900s school house, the first thing I spotted was a parking lot full of card just like ours. Modest, family cars and in nice condition. In my mind, that fit for what we are used to at church.

I may have said this before, but all of our current and previous churches are at varying levels of "come as you are." But, we do and have worshipped with people of our common social status. It's just the way it's worked out. We are used to a parking lot of nice vehicles and well groomed people. That's our comfort zone.

The next thing I saw was a Hearst. It was painted with flames and had a pew as the front seat. It had writing on it, but I couldn't really get past what it was. Walking to the door, there were groups of fairly rough looking people all smoking. That definitely wasn't the warmest welcoming. This is a good time to point out that we aren't the kind of people this church caters to and that's really ok.

Inside, it was as you'd expect from an old schoolhouse. Dingy, dark, hot and stale. The musty, ashtray, gym sick smell assaults your nose as you walk in the door. Here's where things got real. While my senses were on high alert, I didn't fail to see how each person who passed us or said hello carried a gigantic smile. It took me only seconds to see how excited these people were to be there to worship.

Before I go any further, I think it's important to explain my reference to these people and why we didn't quite fit. Even in our jean shorts and tshirts, we stood out and so did our friends. Not that anyone made us feel like that.

As the old gym filled with people, I couldn't help but do some good old fashioned people watching. I've never seen such a diverse group of people. All different colors, sizes and ages filled the seats.

There were girls and guys with blue, purple, pink and flaming red hair. Older men and young with beards of varying length and even down to their waist. There were girls ripped shirts and bellies hanging out. Older ladies dressed in all black. There were men in chaps and covered in chains and biker attire. Tattoos were abundant. About 90 percent were dressed in black or FHMCC shirts. We saw about every type of piercing you can imagine.

Speaking of tattoos, we saw several gang and satanic tats. A different art for a past life, obviously. We saw a couple people wearing shirts indicating heroin was their current or past demon.

It's not with judgement that I look at these people as different, but you can see how we might have felt out of place. That was actually a very good thing in the end.

The band came out and I mean real band. The lead singer looked like an older version of Hulk Hogan and the bassist looked and acted like a ZZ Top member. They sang original hard rock/heavy metal songs about God and Jeaus riding a motorcycle and did it very loudly. Not exactly our usual "Be Thou My Vision" kind of Sunday.

However, this was the point I began to feel conviction and love for this church. As the music blared, these people were on their feet, hands in the air and enthusiastically worshipping their God. My God.

If I'd seen these people standing outside an abandoned schoolhouse before yesterday, I'd have thought they were about to be part of a biker rally or even some kind of cult worship. I'd never have believed I was looking at a group of Christians or seekers. Shame on me!

Likewise, I'd never see most of these people in any of the churches where I've been. In those moments, my heart crumbled. These people were worshipping my God with more love and enthusiasm than I've ever had. Despite what they looked like, they were no different than me. A sinner saved by grace.

When the band finished, the pastor came out to Ozzy intro music and armed with a giant squirt gun. Yes, he shot the crowd with it. He was your average tatted biker looking guy with a mic.

I'm so used to well prepared preachers and sermons that get read off an iPad and have multiple overhead screens. Not here. Admittedly, he didn't have the message until that morning. It was typed on a few sheets of paper. It also didn't all flow together perfectly. He literally included random things that were on his heart.

The sermon. Wow! So much of it spoke to my heart. I loved how he prefaced so much of what he said with the idea that there may only be one person in the room who needed to hear the message. Yes! I know at least one who needed it.

One of his points was about church. There is no perfect church, which we know. But we tend to get restless or discontent and want to move on to the next church that will eventually lose that new car smell. Yes!!! It's one of the things that led us there that day. Not that we are or were searching for a new church. We aren't. But we are restless and bored and struggling in some areas.

He was standing right beside us when he quite pointedly said, you need to put down roots. God doesn't want us church hopping. He wants us engaged and involved. He wants us making relationship. Gosh, that spoke to my heart and touched on what I want. I have to be a part of that and get content.

As he went on, he talked about using our gifts. He said God gave us our gifts. If we aren't using them to serve Him, then we are wasting them. I know this. But again, it was a poignant message with perfect timing.

Another point he made was that God wants us exactly how we are. We don't have to quit our addictions. We don't have to give up our idols. He just wants us to come to Him. If we do that, He will begin to work in those areas. He will show his love and mercy as He changes the lives of addicts or the hearts of those bound to idols. He will get the glory. I've known that, but never heard it put so perfectly.

At the end, he closed with a time of unison prayer to commit or reconnect to Christ. He said any pastor not sharing an alter call or invitation isn't doing their job. That was an interesting perspective since some of our churches have stopped doing that.

Before the final prayer, there was a time when about eight people stood in the front and took time to pray with those wanting it.

It was a unique experience to say the least.

It's not a church we will frequent and we may never attend again. Not that we are against it, it's far away.

Here's the thing though, I left feeling extremely thankful for that church. That church is in a rough part of Dayton. It ministers to a people group right here in the U.S. that is largely unreached. They go to places where other churches might serve once a year. They love a community of addicts, metal heads, partiers, cults and doubters.

It's not that our churches don't or aren't prepared. Honestly, most the people in our churches wouldn't know where to start with some of these people. These are the kind of people who, before coming to Christ, would have spit on your tract or ripped you a new one for sharing Christ. Most of these people wouldn't have lasted past one service in our churches. No fault on either side. This church just meets a unique need. They meet people where they are when where they are is darker than what we typically see in our churches.

Even though it's not a place for us permanently, I'm thankful for the experience. I'm grateful for all that the Lord laid on my heart. Sometimes a new and different perspective is exactly what you need to remind you of what you have already.