I have been struck recently by the tension facing the church today: does it focus upon buildings or the people? Financially, our buildings have become a significant issue for us as we fight to keep them up to date with the latest building regulation etc. It’s pretty obvious, that we need to do this for safety’s sake, and our churches are a significant landmark in the town’s skyline, but is that what should be our main focus today?
We have a God who entered this world through ‘smallness’ – a baby refugee (wow, that strikes a chord with the current situation in the USA and their detention centres), and as a homeless rabbi. God values the widow who could give an offering of two small coins over the mega-donations from billionaires. We hear from: Moses, the stuttering spokesman in the Exile; a stubborn donkey of Balaam; a lying brothel owner named Rahab; an adulterous king named David; a bunch of disciples who struggled to grasp the message even though it was right in front of them; and then a converted terrorist named Paul. It wasn’t the key stakeholders we note who God used. God is the one who changes everything – are we prepared for that?
So, I think God loves camping…under the stars.
God “tabernacles” or ‘sets up camp’ with the Israelites. God camps with Rizpah as she camps next to the bodies of the massacred children (2 Sam 21). Jesus, as the baby refugee, becomes God with Us (Emmanuel) arriving in a Manger. In John’s Gospel, Jesus ministry is deemed as ‘incarnational’ meaning “pitching God’s tent among us”. Jesus wanders around Galilee with “no place to lay his head”. God doesn’t seem to dwell in temples built by us but meets us where we are at.
Is our focus in getting people into church, or allowing the church to meet people where they are?
Perhaps our focus upon buildings needs a fresh perspective. Some people find wonder when they enter a cathedral today: the mystery, the immensity of the building entwined with the silence offers them that moment of possibly deep spirituality. Our myriad of churches offers a point in nearly every city, town and village where people can come to pray, to worship our God. But, in my opinion, there’s more to it than just a building. Today, people might not wish to re-enter a building which has caused such past trauma. Their reasoning for leaving church in the first place might well be linked with the chill or lack of reality with today. There are other venues which could still be church: the cafés, the pubs, the parks, our houses or even under bridges (for example, https://www.churchunderthebridge.org).
Will we consider where the people are today?
What would Jesus make if he popped into our church today? Would he turn the baptismal font into a wine fountain, perhaps tear holes in the roof when the crippled can’t get in the doors, or knock over the offertory especially the contactless card reader I recently saw in one church? I can see a steward telling Jesus off, saying “were you born in a barn?” And Jesus would nod.
Where is our focus today? What if the building were not to be available for use? What might happen then? Where might we go? What might change then? I’m wondering what might be released, with all our skills and graces, if our focus wasn’t about the building now but upon how we might show God’s love to all around us, meeting them where they are, in their circumstances.
(Some illustrations drawn from Claiborne, Shane., The Irresistible Revolution, (Grand Rapids : Zondervan, 2006, 2016))