Getting Outside the Four Walls

Since Barb and I have been in Toledo (nearly 4 months now) we've had the great opportunity to visit a lot of different churches on Sunday mornings. As a pastor for the last 10 years, I've always been tied to a particular congregation on a Sunday morning, but since we don't have a congregation right now we have the freedom to check out other places to see what God's up to.

So far we've been to the following churches:
--Cedar Creek Church (non-denominational)
--First Alliance Church (Christian Missionary Alliance)
--Westgate Chapel (Christian Missionary Alliance)
--Hope Lutheran (Evangelical Lutheran Church in America)
--Hope Community (Nazarene)
--The Source (Nazarene)
--Upper Valley Community (Nazarene)
--Bedford Church of the Nazarene
--Vineyard Toledo (Vineyard)
--North Point Church (Church of the United Brethren in Christ, USA)
--Joshua Generation (non-denominational)

Each one has been surprisingly different, a fact that certainly points to the creative diversity of God's Spirit moving among His people. It also points to the diversity of human beings and the ways in which we connect with God. I can't recommend enough to you that you take opportunities to visit other churches in your area. It will expand your vision of God's kingdom in ways that few other things can. And it will either increase your love and understanding of your own church or your dissatisfaction with the current state of things. Either way, you'll grow.

In visiting all of these churches, it wasn't until this last week that I felt like I was really sitting amongst "the least of these". Without exception, every church we worshiped in was well organized, well behaved, fairly monochromatic (meaning: predominantly white), and comfortble. Joshua Generation could not have stood in sharper contrast to them all.

Joshua Generation is a new church whose nascency is in a local rescue mission. It began about 10 months or so ago at the building where they feed the homeless on Sunday mornings. Recently, the president of the mission asked the pastor if he'd consider taking the church to the streets in south Toledo, and he agreed.

My first meeting with pastor Chris both impressed and surprised me. Chris stands about 6'2" and is a big African American man. Looks like he played football or something. His arms sported tattoos and gold jewelry. The white baseball cap on his head was cocked slightly to the side. MC Hammer would have been proud of his sunglasses. He immediately welcomed me and said, "We just trying to get out the four walls. We takin' God's love to the streets!"

"To the streets" was right. They'd blocked off the old brick-paved road next to their building which stood next to a boarded up, weed-overgrown Rally's (btw, how does Rally's go out of business in the hood?). A dj blared Christian gangsta rap through the sound system. On a small platform sat three shiny, new bicycles and 3 microphones. I soon found out they were raffling the bikes off as well gift certificates to WalMart (free raffle, of course). 50 or so metal chairs sat in about 10 rows between the crumbling curbs.

The people gathered were a true cross section of the hood: black/white/latino; poor; homeless; drug addicts, prostitutes, old, young, and inbetween; clean/dirty; sober/hungover; and a few of us middleclass urban types sprinkled throughout. To be honest, we felt a bit out of our element.

We arrived at 10:15 for the 10:30 start which turned out to be more like 10:50. Preceding the worship time was JJ's Express Drill and Drum Corps, which, if you've ever been to a parade in an large urban environment, then you know what I'm talking about. It's about loud drums and booty shakin'. (But I think it's also about a lot more--the backs of their uniform/tshirts stated "We all we got!" For some of the kids that was probably true. I praise organizations like JJ's for that.) I doubt that it would have gone over in many other churches, mine included.

Then pastor Chris stood up and with all the aplomb of a ghetto MC began to tell us about himself--from the hood, grew up in church, made some bad decisions, got into gangs and drugs, God got a hold of his life, and now he's trying to help others find the Savior. Powerful.

After that, a couple of guys moseyed over to a drums set and keyboard sitting next to the curb while 4 women and a teen took the stage. Pastor Chris and the singers began to lead us in a few shouts-out to the neighborhood and then moved into the R&B edition of "This is the Day" and a few other songs I didn't know. When this was over it was 11:45. We'd been there and hour and a half and we'd just started.

I confess to you that we had to leave at that point. The loud music, blazing sun, and general bedlam had taken its toll on our 16 month old to the point that she was inconsolable. The other two were content playing in the dirt on the street (sorry mom) and pulling the leaves and flowers off the weeds, but we decided it was time to make our exit.

Since yesterday, I've been thinking about and praying for Joshua Generation and pastor Chris. I'm not trying to say one church is better than another just because it's out on the street, but I can't help but read the Bible and see what kinds of people it mentions as being around Jesus and wonder: Are we missing something?

In a moment both comical and lamentable, the catholic church, which sat on the corner opposite our little street scene, let out their services just at the time JJ's drummers were banging away and the dancers were shakin' it. To quote a popular syrupy Christian song: "I can only imagine" what those people thought. Were they disgusted, amused, dismayed, confused, angered, joyful?
Did they recognized God at work there? Did it make them grieve that they'd missed out on such a large segment of the population around them?

What about me? Did I really care for these people like pastor Chris did? Like those serving did? Like Jesus did? Were many of us there simply out of shame--like we should be doing something? Out of fear--"whatever you've done unto the least of these you've done unto me"? Out of guilt or sense of duty--I ought to do something because I'm white and privileged? Out of hubris and pride--I can fix these people? My guess is that it's a little bit of everything all mixed up together.

I don't know if we'll be back. I would guess we will, but I don't know. I can't guess what's going to happen to that little church, but I believe God's in it.

Still, I know two things: many of the people gathered there wouldn't have been in another church that day if it weren't for Joshua Generation, and, if He could have only chosen one church in Toledo to be, I doubt you would have found Jesus anyplace else either.