In the 1960's, an old man died in a small town. He didn't have any family, and at first the police who had found the man, dead from a heart attack in a park or in some other public place, didn't even know his name. His picture was circulated around the town and eventually some neighbors recognized him. What perplexed the police was that aside from his name and the fact that he had lived in this town all his life no one knew anything about him.

Mr X, as we'll call him, was evidently someone who was truly an invisible man. There was no police record, as he seems to have never broken the law. He was old enough not to have a social security card. No records of his employment in the area helped identify him. He didn't drive, thus he never had a vehicle to register nor a drivers license to renew. He was old enough that, while evidently he was born somewhere nearby, his birth certificate was either lost or unrecorded.

Mr X never served in the military or registered for the draft. He never got married, thus he never had a marriage license. He never attended town meetings, never ran for a public office. Surprisingly enough, he never had a bank account or a credit card. He never went on a trip and registered in a hotel that anyone could determine. He didn't own the house he lived in, he paid rent but had never signed a lease. He never went to court to sue or be sued. He never went to college, and the high school records he might have had were lost when the building burned down years before. He didn't have a phone, or pay any utilities. He didn't even have a library card.

This became a big story in the small town, and reporters from all over came to take up the challenge of finding a bit about this man. His personal belongings were opened to public scrutiny, as in desperation of finding a relative the police let anyone with an idea sort through them. He had quite a bit of money, but very little correspondence could be found. Mr X's name was found written inside a book, the only verification of the name the neighbors had originally given the police. When it was all said and done, they still had no idea who this stranger was that lived among them. The town put up a statue in his honor, giving him more fame in death than life, and then forgot all about Mr X.

Sound fantastic? Don't think that can happen in these times? How about a new twist on this old story:

There are Christians who come to church on Sunday at the last minute and then slip out the back the instant it is over. They never talk to anyone, they never volunteer to teach a class. They don't offer to lead prayers or do other duties. They don't send cards to those who are in the announcements as sick or struggling. They don't speak up in class, in fact many don't come to class, only to worship services. They don't come to potlucks or other gatherings of the saints on a social basis. They don't attend gospel meetings. They don't sing too loud (someone might notice them!). They don't make eye contact. If you try to catch them and make them feel welcome, they are always in a hurry. We see their name in the directory and can't picture a face!

Do we have folks like this? Unfortunately Mr X (and Mrs Y, too) miss an important point: How can one be a member of the body if they are not attached? And if you aren't attached, where does that leave you? Think about it!

Randy