Have you ever sat in worship, "up close and personal," with people who are very different than you -- at least in the obvious ways? Try it, and you'll discover that it adds a totally different dynamic to being church.
My wife Jan (who writes a seriously inviting blog, by the way) is pastor of a small, inner city church that we helped to start several years ago. With several friends of similar mind, we set out to experiment with non-traditional ways of being a faith community, and expressed a common desire to live out the presence of Christ in downtown Raleigh.
For a couple of years we met regularly and talked a lot about our concern for the downtrodden, and our desire to welcome all who sought the love of Christ.
Our conversations, however inspired and intriguing to us, had little impact on the community.
This past summer, we decided to take a different approach. Along with two student interns, Jan started spending time down in Moore Square, a popular hangout for homeless people in Raleigh. They volunteered at a women's shelter, a soup kitchen, and an organization that serves AIDS patients.
Before long, philosophy turned to faces, needs took on names, and our congregation began to change.
When we met last Sunday, our gathering included not just the white, well-educated, middle class folk we started with, but people who sleep in corners and carry their worldly goods in a sack. There were worshipers who suffer from AIDS and/or Hepatitis C. There were people of differing ethnic backgrounds and gender preferences, men who've spent time in gangs and in prison, some who can barely read.
Most of our new friends participate eagerly in our communal worship and study activities, adding a dynamic that rarely surfaces in traditional churches. For example, Jan recently led a study of John 5:1-18, the story of a crippled man who had spent 38 years by a healing pool without being healed.
In the story, Jesus bluntly asked the man, "Do you want to be made well?"
Jan asked the group to reflect on reasons why some people might not want to be healed. We expected sophisticated observations like "they might get less attention," "they might lose an emotional crutch," or "they might be afraid of change."
But that's not what we heard. A man showing the physical effects of Hep-C said "I just found a place to stay. If I go to the hospital, it might not be there when I get back." In his case, "a place to stay" might be a covered alcove behind a building where no one else is sleeping, but he doesn't want to lose it.
Another man, one who has endured the harsh drugs that fight HIV/AIDS for more than a decade, quietly observed "The side effects of some drugs are so painful that some people would rather die than endure them."
Someone said, matter-of-factly, "If you get well, you might lose your disability check, and not have any income."
A former drug addict mumbled an answer that no one understood. His pregnant girlfriend, happy to be in a safe place, slept soundly on the floor, responding to the question with loud snores.
It was not your typical set of responses, nor the typical crowd you'd expect to find in church.
I suspect, however, it is exactly the sort of crowd that Jesus would attract if he came walking through Raleigh.
Following him can be quite an adventure.
12 comments:
How do you attack a local Raleigh church for compromise--a fundamental love for beer, yet support a local Raleigh church that affirms emergent village theology? A man once said: There's something theologically cock-eyed about an approach that blithely ignores clear scriptural warnings, but holds fast to a few ambiguous texts…I hope this blog does not represent “Baptist today.”
Would that this blog and the church described therein represented not only "Baptists Today" but Baptists today. You're right, Tony, I think the gathering you describe sounds a lot like a church that Jesus would attend.
For "Anonymous,"
I'm not sure what you mean by "emergent village theology." The blog talks about trying to love other people, particularly those on the margins, as freely as Jesus did. If that is an aspect of "emergent village theology," we affirm that aspect. I suspect, however, that theology among postmoderns or "emergents" is not so monolithic as your comment suggests.
I think that "anonymous" is saying that it is OK to love beer as long as you don't help those in need.
And why should we follow this Jesus, fellow. He was not a model christian (little "c" intended). He hung out with prostitutes and even let some of them off without getting stoned. We certainly don't need that type of theology in our churches!
I hope that "anonymous" does not represent all who desire to not be named.
Throughout most of literary history, Anonymous was a woman. It was the only way a woman could get her work published.
In the words of one of my favorite pastors, we all need to take off our scum-colored glasses and see the world as Jesus sees the world. I commend you and Jan for reaching those thought to be un-reachable and showing love where little is shown. I bet you would throw a birthday party for a prostitute (Campolo). I surely hope so.
An adventure indeed. What a fabulous description of the sacred time we had in worship Sunday. Thank you for it.
Tony: The John P. who posted above is not me, but rather someone with a similar name apparently. Just wanted you to know I would never come to your defense like that.(wink, wink)
Truly an adventure every day. The best part is knowing you are following Jesus. You don't have to ever worry if what you are doing is right. What a confidence builder that is! As a matter of fact, if what you are doing is NOT what you see most others doing in this world, then it probably IS right.
Act as if Jesus is sitting at your right hand listening to every word, because He is. It's what He does. How else could He adequately watch over His children?
Omnipresent, omniscient, all powerful, First and Last. All glory be to Jesus, praise His name.
I don't know if I should be offended or honored by Dr. Pierce's comments. I'll go with honored. You won't be able to convince me otherwise.
I don't know why my name pops up like that...my last name is Land. But this internet thing is confusing and works its own magic...and come to think of it, it's non-biblibal. Maybe "anonymous" will enlighten us on how theologically awry we are for corresponding via a method that isn't biblical instead of the 'ole parchment and feather.
Thanks to everyone for reading, and for the comments.
ok, this comment is coming a bit late, but I just read the post. Your church reminds me a lot of Church Under the Bridge in Waco, TX. If you get the chance, look it up online sometime.
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