a mild response

I'm disappointed in some of the comments I heard at this past Sunday's Congregational Meeting.

Is it true that church is just a place to show up on Sunday for 90 minutes; sing your hymns, drink your coffee? Then you drive home and heed not the gospels for the next six days?

I've heard it said that this is so; that we in the church should not trouble ourselves with "service to the community" or "relevance to our neighborhood." I've heard it said that the church is a building only, in which we praise and pray together. Of course, I've also heard it said that the church is anything but a building; that we ourselves are the hands and feet of Christ, and must always be consciously thus, regardless of the building we meet in.

I've been asked why I spend so much time managing our ever-expanding food shelf program when I should be "in my office" taking care of real church business. And I've heard the criticism of my elders, who ask why we give so much away to the community, when they give seemingly so little to the church in return.

I've never been a Sunday Christian, it's a luxury I simply never had the chance to take for granted. I for one have spent most of my life speaking against the church, against organized religion, and have associated all Christians with the most ignorant, self-serving and richly deceptive televangelist types. It was easy, because I never set foot in a church or gave anyone the chance to prove my bias even a little bit wrong. But then God shook me awake one night, and I took a job working for the church; so now I have to be a Christian all the time, because God's work leaves room for little else in a world where the need for God's mercy and strength screams to us from the streets all day, every day. Is that too strongly phrased?

Of course it's important that the church as institution should endure; that we should manage our resources wisely and take prayerful time in considering each step along the path of growth and service. But who among us at NEC has not yet felt the Spirit moving in this place?

For that matter, who among us has not yet seen the relieved smiles of those members and non-members we serve with food, clothing, and other types of personal and economic assistance? Who among us has not yet felt the need in our own lives to reach out for help, and when did the church stop serving you in your need? Who among us has not felt the need for community, for the fellowship of those who share a concern for the world we live in? Who among us has never faced uncertainty, the kind that challenges our most basic sense of self: where will I live? How will I feed my children? How can I make my life better?

If all God wanted us to be was a "Sunday church," we would never have consolidated. We could each have done things the way we'd done them in our little churches for years and years, until our ministries died the inevitable death from spiritual attrition that I think we all really wanted to avoid. Instead we and our collective resources were brought together, to love God and one another, to serve the community, and to tell the story of Jesus Christ. We were sent to find one another, and to go then into the community to find others who needed us. We were sent to bring them the church, and to be the church in all its glory. Were we sent merely to survive? I doubt it, myself.

So let's try to think again about the church God calls us to be -- look at the ministries that have taken flight without any assistance other than a willingness on our part to serve -- look at all the wonderful people who have joined the church in just the past year -- look at the seven-day-a-week church we have become, because so many individuals and groups want to think of us as their church, even if they aren't part of our Sunday worship community. And then tell me if you can that NEC is not called to be a part of the larger community, the bigger world, and the grace-filled heart of our Lord.

Thanks be to God.