Where It Began
The storefront church series began with memory. As a child, I sat in church holding the program bulletin, reading the order of service and looking for the sermon title or scripture text printed inside. That same title was often posted on the church marquee outside, announcing the message to anyone passing by.
The pastor would take a single verse from the Bible and build a whole sermon around it, one line of text carrying the weight of a message meant to guide us through the week. I still go to church as an adult, and that ritual still moves me: the Word printed in the bulletin and posted on the marquee, then brought to life inside by a voice behind the pulpit.
Sanctuaries in Borrowed Spaces
Storefront churches hold a special place in that memory. They occupy spaces built for commerce, such as an old barbershop, a closed corner store, or a narrow room between businesses, and transform them into sanctuaries.
There is something powerful in that transformation. Faith doesn’t wait for a grand building or stained glass. It gathers wherever people are willing to gather, often at night, after work, under fluorescent light, with folding chairs and handwritten signs.
The Painting
In this painting, a preacher stands behind the pulpit late in the evening, delivering the Word to a small congregation. I paint in a direct, plainspoken style because that is the spirit of these churches.
They are honest, unpolished, and rooted in community rather than spectacle. I am less interested in perfection than in truth, and I want the painting to feel the way those services feel: close, earnest, and alive.
The Congregation
The members of the congregation wear text and symbols on their clothing. These marks are a way of honoring each person as a story of their own.
Everyone who walks into a church carries something with them: burdens, hopes, histories, and prayers. I want viewers to sense that the people in the pews are not just an audience but a gathering of individual lives held together by shared belief.
The Word on the Marquee
Words are central to this work, just as they are central to the church. For each painting, I write my own sermon title and display it along with the church’s name and schedule of activities, the way a marquee or bulletin announces what is to come.
These titles act as both scripture and invitation. They ask the viewer to stop, read, and reflect, much as a passerby might pause on the sidewalk in front of a storefront church and wonder what is happening inside.
Tonight’s Sermon: “Holden Caulfield Predilection for Legion” (Mark 5:1–20)
This sermon title pairs Holden Caulfield, the grieving, restless narrator of The Catcher in the Rye, with the man called Legion in the Gospel of Mark. Both are isolated young men haunted by forces they can’t control. Holden lingers with the memory of his brother Allie, while the man in Mark lives among the tombs, crying out and breaking every chain.
A predilection is something we’re drawn to again and again. Holden’s is for the many voices inside him: grief, anger, loneliness, and contradiction. When Jesus asks the man his name, he answers, “Legion: for we are many.”
The scripture offers the hope Holden is searching for. The man is healed, found clothed and in his right mind, and sent home to tell his story. That message speaks to the congregation in my painting too. Each person in the pews carries their own legion of burdens, and the storefront church is where they come to be named, heard, and made whole.
Why I Keep Painting Them
Through this series, I hope to preserve and celebrate a tradition that is often overlooked: small congregations that make holy ground out of ordinary places, and the faith, resilience, and community that keep their doors open.
If you grew up in a storefront church, or still worship in one, I’d love to hear your story. What do you remember about the bulletin, the marquee, or the sermons that stayed with you? Share it in the comments.