Upper Clyde Church

Although Upper Clyde Parish Church in Lanarkshire, Scotland, looks quiet and rural (which certainly describes most of the 180 square lies of its parish) the building itself sits right next to the busy and noisy A74(M), which is to the left of the trees, the users of which may see the spire as they zoom past.

To its credit, the church has a good website, with its various rotas actually up to date and not running out in 2021. There is even a weekly blog which deals with spiritual matters, unlike many I have read. Yet its location set me thinking. This church is passed by many but, presumably, entered by few. And this could be said of most churches in the land, regardless of situation and denomination. Britons are like sheep without a shepherd; they run after money, idols, ideology and pleasure, but none satisfy. Churches and chapels they might behold from afar, but few venture in, the doors to darken, the pews to warm. There is a sense in which we must go to the highways and byways and compel them to come, while also praying for the Holy Spirit to draw them. To pass by a church is not to enter it; to hear of Jesus Christ is not to hear Him. As Bartimaeus understood in the tenth of Mark, it is not enough for the Lord to pass by; one must call Him, call for Him, call on Him.

And many charged him that he should hold his peace: but he cried the more a great deal, “Thou son of David, have mercy on me.” v47

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