echoes of redemption

Just a little clarification on yesterday’s post…

It wasn’t a dig at large churches (or a particularly large church where I used to serve).

It was a pointed dig at all of us who go to American Churches – regardless of size.

Because we all love our buildings.

I grew up in the church – watching the building fund thermometer on the wall every Sunday morning. We talked about how God wanted us to have buildings – bigger, better, more advanced buildings for his Kingdom.

And we all fell into the allure of the thermometer.

It was a way we could measure our faithfulness – or effectiveness for God.

Of course, all those thoughts are silly. And in the end all our buildings will burn to hell.

Yesterday was about all of us. Because we’re all guilty. None of us will arrive in heaven to hear, “Well built, my faithful building fund manager.”

If we took half our passion for building buildings to Haiti, Port-au-Prince could be rebuilt in the next few years.

If we took a fraction of the money we put into ourselves and unleashed it on water or food or human sex trafficking – we really could change the world.

So, in a way, yesterday’s post was meant to shake us out of the norm. To wake us up. To call us to a greater way of living.

Because it would be tragic to stand judgement for making a building the most significant thing we did for God’s Kingdom.

I read a stat yesterday that I honestly don’t know what to do with.

“While 40 million people died of starvation in the last decade, chuches spent $10 billion on campuses.”

Anger was the first emotion.

Then disappointment.

Followed quickly by frustration.

And then I remembered the line that the article started with: “Thirty-four million Americans have given up on organized religion…”

And I thought: if that’s how organized religion is caring for the oppressed, maybe that’s not so bad.

After all, this was personal to the author:

“I went to seminary, and after several years of study, I began my career as a professional minister. It wasn’t long, however, before I discovered that the church was more lost than the world it was trying to save.

“Go into many churches today, and instead of finding an institution interested in saving the world, what you may find is an institution vastly more interested in saving itself.”

I’m pretty heartbroken – only because his words ring so true. (You can read the rest here.)

We have to change things. We have to abandon the old way of doing things. We have to bring the freedom found in Jesus to the world. We have to raise up communities of people – churches – that are connected to one another, to their cities and to the world.

We have to dis-organize, de-centralize and de-construct what we have come to know as church.

We need to rediscover the path of Jesus.

It’s easy to get wrapped up in the institution of church. There are programs, teams and systems to run.

For me, when I heard of hungry people, I thought: we have a team that handles them.

I wasn’t engaged (or even aware) of the global water crises.

I really wasn’t welcoming strangers (outside of them coming to a weekend service).

Providing for those who need clothing wasn’t high on my list… or on it at all.

Caring for the sick was something someone else handled (because I told myself I wasn’t “gifted” to do it).

Connecting to those in prison was for the fringe ministry people, not me.

And based off Jesus words in Matthew 25:41, my actions were those of a pastor who is going to hell.

Jesus also said, Truly I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.

For, I was hungry and you gave me food.

I was thirsty and you gave me drink,

I was a stranger and you welcomed me.

I was naked and you clothed me,

I was sick and you visited me.

I was in prison and you came to me.

So maybe I need the oppressed more than they need me. Maybe in serving I find redemption for my own soul. Restoration for my own heart.

Maybe in serving them I meet the God of the oppressed in real, tangible ways.

And maybe, when it comes to the church, all the systems, the programs, the teams, the services – all of it is peripheral. Maybe instead of giving our lives to the church, we should give them to Jesus – feeding the hungry, providing water for the thirsty, welcoming the rejected, clothing the naked, visiting the sick and filling prisons with the hope of Christ.

Antoine de Saint-Exupéry said it best: If you want to build a ship, don’t summon people to buy wood, prepare tools, distribute jobs and organize the work, rather teach people the yearning for the wide, boundless ocean.