This Church Is Going Viral For Their Openness And Their Sign Game Is Epic (30 Pics)

If you’ve ever driven past a church sign and groaned at a cheesy pun, you’re not alone. But there’s one small congregation outside Portland, Oregon, that has taken the humble roadside marquee and turned it into a full-on ministry of inclusivity, humor, and holy mic drops. That’s the story behind the viral Bored Panda hit, “This Church Is Going Viral For Their Openness And Their Sign Game Is Epic (30 Pics) | Bored Panda” and honestly, the hype is deserved.

Instead of fire-and-brimstone warnings or vague inspirational quotes, the Clackamas United Church of Christ in Milwaukie uses its sign to say things like, “This church loves everyone including our LGBTQ siblings,” “Our transgender siblings have heartbeats,” and “God created therapists. It is OK to see one.” The result? Millions of views online, countless social shares, and a growing reputation as that church the one that doesn’t just talk about love, but spells it out in bold black letters for everyone stuck at the stoplight to read.

Let’s take a closer look at why this church’s sign game is so strong, what their openness looks like in real life, and what the rest of us can learn from a congregation that has turned a simple board into a beacon.

Meet the Church Behind the Viral Signs

At the heart of this story is Clackamas United Church of Christ (CUCC), a small progressive Christian community based just south of Portland. Led by Pastor Adam Ericksen, the church is part of the United Church of Christ denomination, known in many circles for its “God is still speaking” campaign and early support of LGBTQ inclusion.

Long before social media fame, CUCC was already trying to live out a version of Christianity centered on compassion, justice, and radical welcome. But it was the sign updated regularly with punchy, challenging, and sometimes downright spicy messages that catapulted them onto global timelines. Bored Panda first covered their signs years ago, then followed up with “new pics” as the church kept rolling out fresh messages that mixed theology with social commentary and a lot of tenderness.

What’s striking is that the sign wasn’t created as a marketing gimmick. It grew out of a very simple question: If people only ever encounter your church from their car window, what do you want that one message to be? CUCC chose to use that space to comfort the hurting, affirm the marginalized, and nudge comfortable people just enough to think twice.

Why Their Sign Game Is So Epic

Humor With a Point

Plenty of churches try to be funny. But there’s a difference between dad jokes about “Son-screen” and a sign that makes people laugh and feel seen.

The Clackamas signs often read like a cross between a protest placard, a stand-up routine, and a one-line sermon. One week, the board might challenge cruel rhetoric about immigrants or people in poverty. Another week, it might gently roast religious hypocrisy or remind people that seeking therapy is not a spiritual failure. The tone is playful, but the content is serious: mental health, racism, misogyny, homophobia, trans rights, and the misuse of religion for political power.

That mix of wit and moral clarity is exactly why their sign game feels “epic.” It’s not just about being clever it’s about using humor to lower people’s defenses long enough to deliver a truth that might otherwise be easy to ignore.

Turning a Church Marquee Into a Mini-Sermon

Most churches rely on the Sunday sermon to communicate their deepest values. This church treats its sign like a sermon in miniature. Every phrase has to work hard. There’s no space for jargon, so theology gets distilled down to ideas like “Kind atheists are closer to Jesus than mean Christians” or “Jesus wasn’t neutral he sided with the poor, sick, and immigrant. Be like Jesus.”

These soundbites aren’t random. They reveal a clear vision: faith is supposed to be good news for people, not a weapon used against them. When that message is spelled out next to a busy road, it doesn’t just attract church members it comforts people who have long assumed church doors were closed to them.

From Local Curb to Global Timeline

Of course, the reason the sign went viral in the first place is that people started snapping photos. Commuters posted their favorite messages to Facebook, Instagram, Reddit, and Twitter. From there, online outlets like Bored Panda and other lifestyle and news sites picked up the story, showcasing roundup after roundup of these unusually compassionate and progressive church signs.

Once the internet realized this wasn’t a one-off moment but a consistent pattern, the sign became something of a recurring character in the news cycle resurfacing whenever a new timely message spoke into the cultural mood, whether about racial justice, Pride Month, or caring for people’s mental health.

Openness That Goes Way Beyond the Sign

It’s easy to slap a nice message on a board. It’s harder to make sure your community actually lives what that board says. One reason this church resonates with so many people is that their openness isn’t just aesthetic it’s structural.

Clackamas United Church of Christ is an openly affirming congregation. That means LGBTQ people aren’t just tolerated; they’re explicitly welcomed, celebrated, and invited into leadership. The church’s own materials directly address questions about whether being LGBTQ is a sin and they answer with a firm “No,” grounding their stance in a reading of Scripture focused on love, justice, and context rather than clobber-verses pulled out of history.

Similarly, their signs supporting racial justice or calling out state-sanctioned violence are tied to real commitments: conversations about systemic racism, solidarity with movements for justice, and preaching that refuses to pretend faith exists in a vacuum. When they put words on the sign about immigrants, people of color, or the poor, those words point back to ministries and relationships, not just opinions.

The result is that the sign becomes a front door into a community that actually matches what it advertises. For people who have been burned by churches that talked about love while practicing exclusion, that integrity is a big deal.

Why the Internet Can’t Stop Sharing These Signs

So why did “This Church Is Going Viral For Their Openness And Their Sign Game Is Epic (30 Pics) | Bored Panda” blow up the way it did? A few reasons line up perfectly:

• It flips the script on religious stereotypes. Many people associate church signs with guilt trips or vague platitudes. Seeing one that loudly advocates for LGBTQ rights, mental health support, or anti-racism is shocking in the best way.
• It’s incredibly shareable. A single photo with a strong message is tailor-made for social media. It takes two seconds to read, hits emotionally, and doesn’t require theological background to understand.
• It offers hope to people burned by religion. For folks who have left church because of exclusion, abuse, or hypocrisy, these signs are like a small apology from a tradition that often failed them. Even if they never visit, it helps to know communities like this exist.
• It sparks conversation. Messages about Jesus as a person of color, or God using “She” pronouns, or affirming transgender people inevitably stir debate. Love it or hate it, you’re probably not indifferent and that’s why the images spread.

In an attention economy, sincerity plus boldness is a powerful mix. This church leans into both.

Why Inclusive Faith Spaces Matter Right Now

Beyond the memes and viral posts, there’s a deeper reason this church captured so much attention: people are hungry for spiritual spaces that don’t require them to check parts of themselves at the door.

Over the last decade, surveys have shown rising numbers of “nones” people who claim no religious affiliation even as many still describe themselves as spiritual or interested in meaning, justice, and community. A big reason for that disconnect is disillusionment. When religion is used to justify bigotry or silence victims, people understandably walk away.

A church that uses its most public billboard to apologize for harm, affirm queer and trans people, renounce racism, and destigmatize therapy sends a different message: “We know the harm that’s been done in God’s name. We’re trying to be part of the repair.” That doesn’t erase history, but it does model what repentance and transformation might look like in real time.

It’s also a reminder that faith communities can be catalysts for good when they choose to show up for the marginalized instead of just blessing the status quo. The sign is small. The impact, for many who read it, is not.

What Other Churches (and Organizations) Can Learn From Their Sign Strategy

You don’t have to be a church or even religious to learn from the way this community uses its sign board. There are some surprisingly universal communication lessons baked into their approach:

1. Say What You Actually Mean

Their messages are specific. Instead of “All are welcome,” they say, in effect, “Yes, we really do mean you LGBTQ folks, atheists, people in therapy, those hurt by religion.” Vague inclusivity sounds nice but rarely changes anything. Clarity does.

2. Take Sides for the Vulnerable

Neutrality is tempting, especially when you’re worried about backlash. This church’s signs make it clear that they don’t see neutrality as an option when people’s dignity and safety are on the line. Every organization has moments when it has to choose between comfort and integrity. Their sign choices offer a case study in picking integrity.

3. Use Humor Without Punching Down

The jokes on the board are never aimed at the vulnerable. Instead, they poke fun at hypocrisy, rigid dogma, or the idea that God is offended by people seeking help or living as themselves. That’s a crucial distinction humor can either reinforce harmful power structures or gently topple them.

4. Be Consistent, Not Just Viral

This isn’t a one-time PR stunt. Week after week, year after year, their messages stay on-theme: love, justice, inclusion, honesty. That consistency is why people trust the sign and why features like the Bored Panda article keep coming. Anyone can go viral once; staying aligned with your values over time is the real work.

Imagining the Real-Life Experience of These Signs (500+ Words of Reflections)

It’s one thing to see these messages in a curated online gallery. It’s another to imagine what it’s like to encounter them in real life in the middle of an ordinary Tuesday, with coffee in one hand and your brain already three emails deep.

Picture a teenager who’s quietly trying to figure out their gender or sexuality, riding in the passenger seat while a parent drives past the church. Maybe they’ve only ever heard sermons about “sin” and “lifestyle choices.” The family car turns the corner, and there it is: a simple board that says, in effect, “Our LGBTQ siblings belong. God’s love includes you.” That kid might not remember the street name, but they’ll remember the feeling the sudden jolt of, “Wait, there’s at least one church out there that doesn’t hate me.”

Now think about someone who’s been wrestling with anxiety or depression but has absorbed the message that “good Christians” should just pray harder. Therapy feels like failure. Medication feels like weakness. They’re sitting at a red light, staring at the pavement, when they glance up and see, “God created therapists. It is OK to see one.” It’s just a sentence on a board, but it gently dismantles a whole stack of internalized shame. For a few seconds, they’re allowed to imagine that getting help is not a betrayal of faith it might actually be an act of honoring the life they’ve been given.

Then there’s the longtime churchgoer who’s never questioned certain assumptions: that Jesus was safely distant from modern conversations about race, or that religion and politics should never mix when it comes to justice. They drive past a sign that calls Jesus a person of color, or quotes theologians who insist Christian theology can’t be neutral in the fight against oppression. Maybe they disagree. Maybe they feel defensive. But the thought still lands. For the rest of the day, those words live rent-free in the back of their mind, nudging them to reconsider who Jesus stood with and who they stand with now.

There are also the quiet smiles from people who don’t plan to step inside any church again but still feel a small wave of relief knowing this one exists. Former church members, ex-evangelicals, people who left after being harmed by leaders or doctrine for them, driving past a sign that acknowledges marginalized people instead of condemning them can feel like a tiny act of repair. It doesn’t fix the past, but it cracks open the possibility that faith communities can grow and change.

And finally, think about neighbors who never really paid attention to that corner of the street before the sign went viral. The marquee becomes a kind of neighborhood heartbeat. People start looking up each week just to see what’s new. Conversations happen at the grocery store: “Did you see what the church put up this time?” Some roll their eyes. Some cheer. Some quietly screenshot the message and send it to a friend who needs encouragement.

Those experiences the tiny moments of surprise, relief, and conviction are what give the signs their real power. The online galleries and Bored Panda features are the highlight reel, but the everyday impact happens one glance, one car ride, one unexpected moment of hope at a stoplight at a time.

In a world where so many public messages shout about who doesn’t belong, this church has built a different kind of billboard: one that tells the truth about harm, names who has been pushed out, and then dares to say, “You still belong in love.” No wonder the internet keeps coming back for more.

Conclusion: When a Simple Sign Becomes a Sanctuary

In the end, “This Church Is Going Viral For Their Openness And Their Sign Game Is Epic (30 Pics) | Bored Panda” isn’t just a fun collection of clever phrases. It’s a snapshot of what happens when a community decides to use every available inch of space even a weather-beaten road sign to embody its deepest values.

The Clackamas United Church of Christ has turned a very ordinary object into something extraordinary: a public, ongoing love letter to people who have been told they don’t belong in church, in faith, or even in their own skin. Their openness is not perfect and not immune to criticism, but it is real, consistent, and costly in all the ways that matter.

Whether you’re religious or not, there’s something compelling about a sign that keeps insisting, in fresh words week after week, that compassion is more important than control, that justice is more sacred than comfort, and that love actual, practical, inclusive love is the only message worth putting in letters big enough for the whole neighborhood to read.