The least of these

Last night, an organization called Family Promise used our fellowship hall to present an opportunity for ministry to the homeless in our county. Over 60 local churches were invited to attend. About 30 persons actually showed up, representing just 9 different congregations! I guess I should be thankful for that, but in truth, I am saddened by it. There were exactly 2 pastors present. I wonder how many congregations would have found a representative to attend if the meeting were about a program that promised to bring 10 new familiese into their sanctuaries this year, and to add 15% to their income stream? Compassion, genuine caring for those in need- that's the mark of the Church, the proof of a real experience of Christ's life in the Believer. Well, it used to be- before we became obsessed with getting ourselves religiously comfortable and creating programs that are attractive to those people who are emotionally together, physically clean, and able to make a regular contribution in the offering.

Imagine the difference that Christian churches could make in this community if they actually did Christ-like things! But most churches spend almost 100% of their time, energy, and volunteer resources serving those within the walls, Christians comforting Christians! We claim we have no time to minister to the homeless, conduct a nursing home service, commit to a regular prison ministry, build a pantry to feed the hungry, provide mentoring to a fatherless boy, or take time to teach a young woman the skills she needs to support her baby. And we don't, because we have to keep the people happy who want climate controlled buildings, lavish youth programs, scintillating Christian education ministries, and well produced worship services.

I just wonder if our kids would be more convinced about the reality of Christianity if, in addition to teaching them doctrine in nicely decorated rooms with expensive, colorful literature that they discard before they reach home- we took them to do yard work or to read to a lonely elderly person, had a homeless ministry where they could play with poor kids and help to make dinner for them, or provided them opportunities to do other kinds of self-sacrificial service? Maybe they would learn what too many of us have forgotten... that faith without works is dead!

I have to give my parents some credit here. Every Sunday, when I was growing up, we got dragged to a nursing home to sing, talk, and love the people there. I hated it! While other kids got to play sports, I had to sit in an ugly basement chapel at Garden Nursing Home. I was deprived, or was I? Many of the residents smelled badly, tried to kiss me, and wanted me to sit by them so they could hold my hand. That's not cool when you're 12! But I learned to love outside of my comfort zone and, over time, learned that I was loving Jesus when I cared for those who were forgotten, lonely, and 'marginalized' by society. (I didn't realize my parents were conducting Sunday School in a with 'hands on' curriculum before that term was in vogue!) Then too, my parents were active in loving the needy all the time, not just on Sunday. Our house always had somebody in it that was in recovery, homeless, or otherwise in need. I thought that was just what Christians did. Later I learned that the majority of Christians talked about such caring and then paid for somebody else to do it, earning a tax deduction at the same time. That way they could 'love the needy' without getting their hands dirty.

Jesus told a story about the Judgment, when we stand before God. Interestingly, He doesn't say we will recite the Westminster Confession or the Apostle's Creed to receive the Father's commendation! In fact He doesn't mention that we earned a nearly perfect attendance record for Sunday worship gatherings or that we built a great building that was architecturally interesting. You know that, right? Here's what He does say: "Then the King will say to those on the right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the Kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home. I was naked, and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me. I was in prison, and you visited me.’" (Matthew 25:34-36, NLT)

But how can we do those things for Jesus? Where is He hungry, or needy, or an alien in need of shelter? That's what those at the Judgment asked, too. And here's how Jesus replies: “Then these righteous ones will reply, ‘Lord, when did we ever see you hungry and feed you? Or thirsty and give you something to drink? Or a stranger and show you hospitality? Or naked and give you clothing? When did we ever see you sick or in prison, and visit you?’ And the King will tell them, ‘I assure you, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!’" (Matthew 25:37-40, NLT)

I am crying at this moment as I think about how little of the money that is collected, in the name of doing God's work, from my congregation actually feeds the hungry, serves the poor, or shelters the alien. I'm not crying with joy, but with shameful sorrow. What will I tell Jesus when I stand there? How will I explain the way the churches I shepherded in His name squandered the opportunities for ministry that existed all around us? I can only groan, "God, forgive us. Help us to please you by opening our eyes and our hearts to Jesus where He lives among us. Amen."