What you’ve done to the least

“for I was hungry, and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger and you took Me in; I was naked and you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me.”

So I went to [church name here] this past Sunday. The service started normally enough, a Lee choir having been invited to sing for worship. After they finished, however, a man stood up and began to introduce a video to those of us in the audience. Who had seen the video? he asked. He told us he had seen it several times himself- and every time it had touched him. It was the future of “our” church, he said.

The movie played.

“This is our moment in time!” The first lady to appear on screen told us. “God is needing us to step out in faith!” The pastor soon followed with his own spiritual buzzwords, and we finally discovered what the “future” was.
“We’re moving,” he said. “To a brand new, 21 million dollar, state of the art facility.”

“Join with me as we tour God’s plan for our church!”

As Tomlin’s “How Great is Our God” played in the background, a computer generated tour began to unfold.
“A spacious cafe, lit with natural light! More parking for members and visitors alike! A children’s auditorium, with game floor!”

The pastor was back. “Faith is what we need to accomplish this. When our posterity remembers us, will this be our moment in time?”

The video is fading out. The people are clapping, the man from before is stepping back onstage. “Come,” he says, “As we fulfill the Great Commission together.”


My head is spinning by this point. I’m in the Gospels re-reading the Great Commission to find that part I seemed to have missed, I’m dividing 21 million by the 32$ Compassion needs to support a child, I’m writing down quotes I just heard onto a tithe envelope they’re expecting me to place my “faith” into.
More parking? For visitors? The visitors I want to reach don’t own cars, sir. Painting parking lines and expecting the lost to simply file in and arrange themselves is naivety at its worst.
Natural light in the cafe? What comes in the window will not save the lost. The people that leave that door every Sunday is what will. Church is not made for salvation, people- we are.

A children’s auditorium? Let’s start with a roof. Or clean water and food. Children can’t eat multi-use game floors- and they can’t sing to music contained in a building an ocean away.

I’ll admit it- I’m not sure I heard another word Sunday. All I could see were the faces of people in that church, people in Atlanta, children in Uganda. And maybe this is a personal rant of mine. Maybe you’re saying that it’s been said before, that there’s a good and rational reason for the building that this church is putting up. But I’m saying something anyway.

Jesus is not buying coffee in the Fellowship Hall. He’s not thinking up catchy church sign slogans- and He’s not calling a church to give 21 million dollars to itself as a spiritual legacy. He’s starving. His legs are giving out as he crosses borders, his car is breaking down as His life crashes, and- if the church will listen- God’s heart is out there beating with him.

It’s time we pull our hearts off of whatever idol we’ve placed them on, and we find that beat. We become what is needed.

We fix the world.

1 Response to “What you’ve done to the least”

  1. 1 hasmig workman, Mom Feb 26th, 2008 at 5:15 pm

    Hey deghas, I just read the article. That was good. So True!Love ya/ Momma

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