The contrast was striking. It was a beautiful summer morning at the local diner. The warm breeze invited us to take a table on the patio. We perused the menu.
Lisa and I have known each other for more than a decade. We initially met in the street. I was in my car heading to my office. She was panhandling.
Our conversations were the length of the red light. Bit by bit we developed a friendship. I asked her name. She learned mine. She grew up in the foster care system then told me about her kids. I introduced her to mine.
Eventually, I’d pull over to talk longer. We had coffee. We went to lunch. We exchanged phone numbers.
We were having breakfast that summer day next to two people obviously in a business meeting. I overheard them mention million-dollar budgets, staff conflicts and organizational overhauls. The world had changed. The struggles were real.
Before our server took our order, it became clear that the business being discussed was church business. I knew it well. I’d spent the previous decade and a half as a pastor of a local church.
I’d invested countless hours at breakfast and lunch meetings like that, discussing ministry possibilities, negotiating (much smaller) budgets, and organizing leaders. But as I sat there with Lisa, I couldn’t help but wonder which was the better investment in and representation of the church.
It’s not an easy question to answer. Like most things in ministry, it’s messy and complicated. We’re playing the long game after all, and we are terribly short sighted.
I, for one, know that the multifaceted responsibilities of a local church leave pastors and committed members with little time or energy to sit and listen to someone who most of the world drives right on by without giving a second glance.
What if we flip the equation? What if the church (Jesus followers, Christians, me… and you?), spends less time running itself and more time listening and loving those who need it most? What if we have fewer buildings and budgets to maintain (yes, that means that more churches need to close)? What if we were more available to share God’s love and grace and mercy right when and where people need it? Might we experience that for which we so regularly pray – “God’s kingdom come and will be done”?
We mustn’t leave these as hypothetical questions. Courageous leaders need to start earnestly asking and answering them. Then, we must live the answers. That’s where change starts to happen.
In this season of my life, living the answers meant closing my church, leading myself right out of a job. Saying that change is hard is an understatement. I’ve experienced grief, anger, disappointment and doubt. It is a death, of sorts.
But as our faith so clearly teaches, an ending is a beginning. What was lost is now being found, albeit in a different way. With this change in my practice of ministry, I’ve experienced the deeply good and profoundly life-giving gift of being present to the last, the lost, the lonely and the looked over right when and where it’s needed. Like that morning over breakfast with Lisa. Bodies were nourished. Burdens were shared. And new life — resurrection— was delicious.
And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.
Micah6:8
Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in him.
Psalm43:8
For your consideration:
- In a typical week, how much time do you invest in church (weekly worship, planning meetings, etc) compared to caring for the disenfranchised?
- Look at your church’s budget. How much of it goes to church business compared to acts of compassion, mercy, and justice?
- How is the “return” on your investments?
- What might you do differently to actively participate in the coming of God’s kingdom?
Adaptive Church 