Week 49: A Church Beyond the Walls

Who: Mark

Church: Bridge City Church

Lunch: Church Potluck

Topic: A Church IN the Community

When I started this project over a year ago, the motivation came from a simple observation: two very different types of people seemed drawn to our work in the community—those who had left the church, and non-profit leaders with a deep love and faith in Jesus. At first glance, it felt strange, even contradictory. But the more time I spent listening, the more I realized that both groups shared something profound in common: a desire to engage honestly with hard questions, to show up for others, and to build something bigger than themselves. One group brought the perspective of disillusionment, of searching for meaning outside traditional structures. The other brought a grounded faith and a commitment to serve flowing from that belief. Together, their presence around the same table told me we were onto something important—creating a space where seemingly opposite experiences could coexist, learn from each other, and work together toward the common good.

My invitation to Bridge City wasn’t formal—it was self-imposed. My dear friend Mark, who serves as the Executive Director of one of our nonprofit partners, Corner Evolution, has spent the past year sharing story after story about his church community. Every time we talked, Bridge City came up—not just in passing, but as a place that clearly shaped the way he leads and lives. In fact, Corner Evolution itself is deeply rooted in the values of this congregation, carrying forward its spirit of compassion, service, and justice into the broader community. After hearing Mark’s reflections so many times, I finally realized I needed to see this place for myself. What I found was more than a church; it was a community that not only supports its own members but also pours out its energy and resources into the city around it.

The church is unassuming. No large signs. No reverberation of bass flowing through your body as you approach the building. No greeter with Mickey Mouse hands waving at you or a bookstore prominently places at the entrance/exit, like most of the rides at Disney. (If you’re new here, this is a not-so-subtle- jab at a few churches I’ve visited over the years.)

But, here’s what it did have: People from every walk of life. The diversity (yes, I said the “D word”) was striking and beautiful. It wasn’t just about ethnicity; it stretched across generations, gender, and socio-economic backgrounds. And while the group itself was small, what stood out most was how deeply connected they were. You could feel the sense of belonging, the shared respect, and the understanding that each person brought something unique to the table. It was a reminder that true community isn’t measured by size, but by the depth of connection and the richness of perspectives present in the room.

Once a month, instead of their typical format, they gather around a long table for a family-style meal. It’s a simple tradition — passing dishes, sharing stories, and making room for laughter — but it’s become one of the most meaningful parts of their rhythm together. I happened to visit during one of these Sundays, watching the interactions, in awe of the simplicity beauty of togetherness. I tried to explain it to someone recently. I’ve been in rooms that called themselves diverse, but you could still feel the edges and what struck me most wasn’t just the laughter or the food, but the way their differences didn’t divide the room. It was a kind of unity that didn’t need sameness.

The other thing that left a lasting impression was their take on “outreach” and how they didn’t take the traditional approach most churches embrace: creating programs. Instead, they looked around to see what was already taking root in their community and chose to come alongside it — partnering, supporting, and being present instead of trying to build something of their own.

And as I wrap up this year-long project, I can only say this: Bridge City was the church community that felt closest to what I imagine the early church might have looked like — ordinary people breaking bread, sharing life, and meeting the needs right in front of them.

Not polished nor perfect, but present.