The Ministry of Ordinary Places by Shannan Martin

Author:Shannan Martin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 2018-08-23T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Let’s Stop Loving on the Least of These

Last summer, a church showed up at the park across the street to serve the poor. They wore matching T-shirts and brought in bounce houses and a stereo system blaring Christian music. My family kept our distance for a few reasons, one being that we knew we weren’t what they had in mind when they came. Setting up a day of fun for under-resourced kids sounds like a good enough idea, right? I’ve seen it done many times before and thought nothing of it. I’ve also eagerly taken part in similar events throughout my life, believing I was doing something good and worthy. But in the past, I was always the one who drove to a different part of town and set up the popcorn popper. I had never been the one to whom the carnival came. I’m still confused about why it made my stomach drop, or why it still doesn’t feel like justice these many months later.

My low-income neighborhood seems to be a hot target for people trying to scam us—overpriced cleaning products, discounted utilities, this brand of religion, that one. It hasn’t gone unnoticed that when people show up around here, they usually want something. Understandably, many of us have raised our guard, taping signs to our front doors and keeping the curtains drawn.

While sharing the hope of Christ is certainly not wrong, there’s a better way to connect with overlooked people. It involves not just a loving gesture, but actual love that cannot be put on, taken off, or packed up at the end of the day.

Back in my youth group years, we participated now and then in door-to-door evangelism, which we called canvassing. It was presented as a way of putting legs to our faith, literally walking it out into the beaten-down world. It was a test, and though I hated every second of it, I hated failing worse. Even when it was optional, I volunteered. I knocked on doors in Southern Ohio trailer parks, my permed bangs lacquered with Aqua Net (lavender can). I knocked on doors of cobblestone cottages in Northern Ireland wearing a perpetually damp jacket.

I don’t remember any banner encounters with the unsuspecting, unlucky few who answered, but I do remember the rush of relief when no one was home, or when they pretended not to be. We were taught that this was the way of demonstrating love to those bound for hell unless we intervened. We were sweaty-palmed evangelists, timid and afraid of rejection. I loathed the thought of putting someone on the spot. Rather than responding with gratitude, the people we sought to save tended to react with defensiveness, or even anger. Though I couldn’t have put it into words then, I knew our methodology was askew. We boxed up the holiest of relationships and tried to shove it through cracked-open doors, handling the gospel like a box of encyclopedias with a three-month payment plan, detached, impersonal, the antitheses of the Jesus way.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.