A House of Prayer for All People

Church today really stirred something in me.

From the opening prayer to communion at the end, the theme that kept surfacing was radical hospitality—what it truly means for God’s house to be open, welcoming, and alive with His presence.

There’s a growing sense that God is doing something new. You can feel it in the vision and direction—dreams of expanded ministry, a recovery house next door, a community green space, and more outreach. It didn’t feel like “plans on paper.” It felt like a response to a calling: we have more ministry we’re called to do.

One thing that stood out to me was the reminder that generosity—of time, resources, and spirit—is never wasted when it’s placed in God’s hands. God provides in unexpected ways, sometimes even through people who aren’t “part of the church” yet. That alone says something about how God works.


Jesus, the Temple, and Righteous Anger

The message centered around Mark 11, where Jesus enters the temple and drives out the money changers. This is one of the rare moments where we see Jesus visibly angry—flipping tables, overturning chairs, disrupting what had become “normal.”

Why was He so angry?

Because the temple—God’s house—had stopped being what it was meant to be.

“My house will be called a house of prayer for all nations.” (Mark 11:17)

The problem wasn’t commerce alone—it was exclusion. The systems in place made it difficult for outsiders, foreigners, and seekers to worship. What was meant to invite people in had turned into a barrier.

And that hits close to home.


Are We Making It Hard for People to Come to God?

This message wasn’t about pointing fingers—it was an honest question for all of us:

Are we, sometimes without realizing it, making it harder for people to come to God?

  • Do we expect people to “clean themselves up” before they belong?
  • Do we confuse holiness with sterility?
  • Do we fear that welcoming broken people might compromise faith?

Jesus didn’t.

Jesus welcomed people as they were—and then let God do the transforming. Radical hospitality doesn’t lower God’s standards; it trusts God to do the work.

The truth is, real church isn’t tidy. The family of God never has been. And maybe that’s exactly how it’s supposed to be.


We Are the Temple Now

What really struck me was the reminder that we are now the temple of the Holy Spirit.

That means God’s presence doesn’t just live inside church walls—it lives in us. In our workplaces. In recovery spaces. In awkward conversations. In moments where loving someone costs us comfort.

Being the temple means opening our hands and arms wide—even when it changes us. Especially when it changes us.

That kind of openness? That’s how holiness grows.


Communion: A Table Big Enough for Everyone

The service closed with communion, and it felt especially meaningful today.

The communion table is a place of radical inclusion. Jesus invited everyone—even the one who would betray Him. That’s the gospel.

Communion isn’t about perfection. It’s about grace, forgiveness, and being welcomed into God’s family. You don’t have to be a member. You don’t have to have it all together. You just have to come.

And that’s the kind of church I want to be part of. That’s the kind of faith I want to live out.

A house of prayer.
Open doors.
Open hearts.
Room at the table.

— Josh Bridges

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