What if I told you church wasn’t about the amount of people you get through the doors? Or dressing up in your Sunday best? Or choir vs. worship team? Or even, gasp, the enrichment programs and coffee they provide?!
Now, I don’t mean to be harsh here, but if you can’t find the *right* program for your family in one of the thousands of churches in America, I feel bad for you. Number one: because there are hundreds and hundreds of great churches scattered throughout the States, but number two: because friend, you are missing the point.
Please don’t dismiss me just yet. I love the American church, and I’m anxiously counting down the days til I get to sit in my plushy chair with one hand held up proudly in worship and coffee in the other. But over the last 11 months, I can’t help but notice that we’re totally, completely missing the mark.
Y’all, it’s bad. Like really bad.
If more of our churches opened up our doors and followed Christ’s example to feed the hungry and love the hurting, imagine what our communities could look like. We’d have a lot less to bicker about on social media. Many of the issues we like to point our fingers to the government for would disappear.
I know that a lot of churches do a lot of really good things. But are we really doing all that we can? Definitely not. Not even close. I love that our churches pour into our youth and kids. I really do. And I see the impact it makes. But if all our tithing goes directly into programs that better only ourselves, our families, and the few friends that get invited along the way, what happens to the people who never step in the doors?
Cue month eleven.
We’re living and working with an organization called Formavida, situated on top of a mountain overrun with drugs, gang violence, and poverty. Thirteen years ago, this community tugged on the hearts of our host Lucy and her husband Ricardo, so they began their ministry with a food kitchen. Since then, their home church has added a church plant here and they’ve begun an after-school program to ensure kids are educated, fed, and have a safe place to go. This is the church.
We’ve had the privilege of working with the kids the last two weeks, and it’s been really, really hard on my heart. The kids are tough and carry heavy shells, but they’re all fighting things that are hard to imagine for most. Several families are refugees from Venezuela, here because their own country is falling apart. One family in particular has stolen our team’s hearts.
Pompilio, his wife and four kids arrived in Bogota six months ago seeking cancer treatment for his wife, something unattainable in Venezuela because of soaring prices and minimal medical supplies. They began rebuilding their lives while Pompilio worked overtime to provide for his family. Although finally receiving treatment, his wife eventually lost her fight and passed away.
Now Pompilio is faced with raising four kids, all under 12 years old, as a single dad in a foreign country, and the kids are having to learn how to mourn their mom. Each one is handling things a little differently, but the oldest one, Bray, has dug a special place into my heart. We were sitting together the other day when he decided to tell me about her. With sad eyes and a completely even tone, he showed me her picture and told me she was in heaven. My heart broke with every detail he and his dad shared. From her sweet soul to Bray’s carbon-copy hands of hers, they allowed me into a really tender, sacred place. It was only by God’s strength that I held back the tears that tried so hard to well up.
Y’all, people need to feel seen and heard. But even more than that, they need us to be a little piece of Jesus in the midst of chaos. And as the church, that’s not only our privilege, but our responsibility. And if we aren’t willing to step outside our comfort zones to be that for people, we’re missing our calling as followers of Christ. They deserve it. Pompilio and his family deserve it. The neighbor you walk past everyday and don’t know their name — they deserve it. The homeless man who is down on his luck — he deserves it.
This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters. 1 John 3:16
[If you’d like to help give some really awesome kiddos a safe place to go and a warm meal, you can support the after-school program here!]
