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By Steven L. Shields
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One woman retorted, "Oh no, people must be worthy to come to church." Another said, "Surely, you aren't suggesting that cigarette smokers are welcome in church." Another said, "Next thing we know, you'll be wanting to let gays into the church. They should have their place to go, and not sully the reputation of our church."
I've met thousands of well-intentioned Christians who prefer the neat, tidy, and sometimes elegant boxes we call "church." Churchgoers spend so much money building beautiful temples for their use. We soothe our guilt by claiming we built the places to the glory of God.
Christians pride themselves on how many people come to church on Sunday. They work hard to have the most wonderful music during services (be it orchestra, pipe organ, vocalists, rock band, or praise team). "We've got the best pastor. His sermons are so inspiring." "Come to our church. We have a great program for children." "The Bible says ... And you can be sure our church follows the Bible." I've heard it all.
Once, while working with rural pastors in India, I was asked to preach on Sunday morning. We gathered in a modest, palm-frond-roofed mud-brick building. The service began with several hymns. But we kept singing and singing.
I asked the pastor what the schedule was, and he said, "Oh, we're waiting for the guys to bring the public-address system." I expressed surprise since the room was no more than 10 square meters. He told me the speakers were for outside the building, so the pagans in the town could hear the gospel. I couldn't challenge the pastor, but frankly, such behavior is not my understanding of the teachings of Jesus Christ.
I want to know how the people of the church treat others. The church is not a country club for members only. Will you welcome the man who is smoking outside and invite him in? Does the woman who is "inappropriately" dressed have a place in the pew, or do you judgmentally send her home to change before admission? How many "deacons" and parking lot attendants "keep the doors" in your church, making sure only the "worthy" get in?
Before you sing, "We'll know we are Christians by our love," show me how you love all God's children: Buddhists, nonbelievers, differently-abled, differently-gendered, differently-colored, those who are marginalized because of education, economy, or job. Don't greet them with judgmental glances. Ask them their story, buy them coffee and really listen. Telling people they need to get their "act together" before they can come to church is not the gospel.
Not long ago, I was visiting a church in Seoul where I served as a missionary pastor. A man there had many deeply spiritual questions that went beyond basic beliefs. I sat with him and chatted. None of my answers were satisfactory to him, but we had a good conversation and agreed to explore further.
When he left, one of the elders of the church told me that I should not have encouraged him, because we "don't need people like that at church." I was stunned. The congregation had changed dramatically in the 10 years since I had left for other assignments in the denomination.
I am far from perfect. The acts that Jesus would have his disciples do often make me tired. I'm uncomfortable; it's easy to get emotionally drained. But before you tell me about how passionate you are about your faith, show me how compassionate you are to your neighbors. How much of the church budget is marked for ministry outside the church building? Probably not very much. Finances are drained for salaries and building construction and maintenance.
When I was a pastor, I struggled to maintain programs and facilities that were "required." The budget was slim. Motivating people to passionately care for others who were outside the tight-knit church group was difficult. Perhaps it's human nature.
We struggle to survive; we are driven to meet our needs first. As a human, I struggle with being kind to others all the time and smiling. I take myself too seriously. I get stressed and frustrated. We all do. But I know I can do better. I know we can do better.
Let's turn all our churches, all our temples, all our sanctuaries into places of refuge for the bruised and brokenhearted. Let's make them hospitals for people whose lives are shattered, and rehab clinics for those who want to get rid of their addictions. I'm more interested in how you choose to live and give than how much you judge others with "the Bible says…"
Steven L. Shields has lived in Korea for many years, beginning in the 1970s, again in the 1990s and into the 2000s. He served as copy editor of The Korea Times in 1977. He is a retired clergyman and vice president of the Royal Asiatic Society-Korea Branch. He can be reached at slshields@gmail.com.
