The longer I live, the more astounded I am with the talent, intelligence and gifts of the people I meet. Some of them are packing multiple degrees like off-duty police officers pack heat. Some of them are just trying to survive middle school. They look much different on the outside, but when I hear their stories they all write like a bestselling memoir. They have joy and pain. Dark nights of the soul and great moments of clarity. They have chapters and chapters still unwritten, full of potential.
So why, oh why, do they not use their gifts for the church? This is a travesty. I know women who start successful businesses, stay busy as PTA Presidents, and can kick a soccer ball so hard they make high school boys cry. I know men with incredible intelligence, amazing technology skills, and gentle affection for children that makes me cry.
Many of them use these talents in the local church, and that makes my heart feel so full. It creates a living picture to Paul’s words about being the hands and feet and head of Christ, all with different functions but working together to share Christ’s love with the world. I picture all of us inhabiting a Star-Wars like robot, a huge piece of equipment doing good, each of us with our own levers to pull and buttons to push.
Yet so many don’t. They are incredible leaders. They can power an organization, motivate hundreds of people to action, and create complex organizational plans. They can conduct meetings with strangers and sell medical devices. But they don’t offer their gifts to the local church.
I say local church because I think there’s a very trendy world-mission thing going on right now in evangelical circles. And I like it, I really do. I think it’s high time that evangelicals got on board with the plight of sex trafficking, women in oppression and slavery, clean water, and a whole host of issues around the world that are completely unacceptable.
But I also know that every Sunday in your local church, there is a child who’s family is falling apart. A child who’s parents are so wrapped up in their own pain they forget to hug him and kiss his boo boos.
There’s a high schooler who’s thoughts of suicide greet him with the morning light and keep him awake long after the sun goes down.
There’s a single mom who’s doing her best to stay faithful to her family, but feels the ache and burden of raising her children alone.
There’s that young couple who smile broadly because they should be happy with life, but they just can’t seem to make marriage work. They will file for a separation this week.
There’s the guy who’s been out of work for ten months now. He wants to be brave and manly, but he’s terrified, insecure and depressed.
These are our people. This is our local church. It is made up of people who need answers. Who need healing. Who want purpose. People who are incredibly gifted and have amazing stories, and who, if freed up to do so, can make an enormous difference in this world.
The church is also full of people who are comfortable. Who are shopping for a new SUV after the service. Who just put a payment down on their beach house for vacation. Who are busy with all kinds of activities and the whirlwind pace of suburbia, but aren’t quite sure what they are doing with all of this, well, stuff of life.
I want the comfortable people to meet the broken people. I want the broken people to feel heard and the comfortable people to wrestle with questions. I want the body to unite, right here in the local church. I want you to read this words and get disturbed by something, by dirty water or lonely children, and do something about it. Sacrifice time, raise money, offer leadership.
Do I want too much?
As Christians, do you think we have a responsibility to the local church? How does that play out in your life?
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