Significant Church

Serving in the inner-city, we have our fair share of ups and downs. Encouragements and discouragements. Wins and losses. For every Jesse there is a Jacob. For every Lisa there is an Elizabeth. For every Tony there is a Mike. It seems like every time we have a massive victory we get hammered with some crushing defeats. It’s exhausting to be honest.

These last few ferociously cold weeks have been full of discouragement for us at Family of God. Not only do we constantly worry about our people in abandoned houses, on the streets, and under storefront overhangs, but it has also been a roayl pain in the you-know-what to keep our building warm; the only place that our people find refuge from the elements. We have also seen a decrease in our attendance. In 2019 and into 2020 (pre-Covid), we were averaging 80-100 people every evening, maxing out one night at 152. Family of God was the happening place to be from the hours of 4pm to 8pm just about every night. As Covid hit Michigan (though not so much Family of God) and we had to shift ministry operations, we saw our number of people elevate even more, averaging 130 to 150 people coming to the church every night to receive meals. People knew that the church was there for them. That Pastor Hill, our volunteers, and I truly cared for them.

As we opened the church back up for gathering, we saw low numbers in attendance. Unbeknownst to us, we had subtly trained the neighborhood to come, get their meal, and leave. We had eliminated the essence, the flesh and bones of Family of God; community and simply being together. As the summer pressed on, the autumn leaves began to change, and snow began to fall, so did the number of people attending, especially in 2021. It has been a trend that we have not quite been able to figure out (though Pastor Hill and I do have our theories). A trend that has been incredibly discouraging to say the least. Just this last week we had a day with 35 people, and another with 25, one fourth of what we had grown accustomed to.

I read an article this week about a small church in New York that recently closed (you can read it here). Pastor Sorensen discussed his church plant (thoughtfully named Epiphany), how Covid impacted his church, and how devastating it was after their return to worship to see how few people were present. I can relate to him. But at this service there was a couple in which the woman was to receive the Lord’s Supper for the very first time. This woman was receiving Jesus in the flesh at the altar in this church that seemed so insignificant at the time.

And so as I thought about Epiphany last Wednesday, the trend at Family of God continued. Maybe 40 people attended the Ash Wednesday meal. I prepared the ashes, the bread, the wine, and the service for the few people I expected to attend—I would be happy if we had 7 or 8. One by one people filed into the sanctuary after dinner. My heart rejoiced as I stood up to preach and saw not 7 or 8, but 30 people.

Within this beautiful congregation sat a woman battling a relentless cancer, a woman who takes in homeless people off the street, a young boy eagerly sitting up front, my good friend who is attending the seminary next year, a group of volunteers that served the meal that night, an 80 year old woman who used to serve in the Marines, another woman who serves every single day at the church, a woman who doesn’t speak much English, and a gentleman that lives in an abandoned house that just wanted a ride “home.” People with a wide variety of backgrounds gathered together in the presence of Jesus Christ. It does not get much better than this for a pastor.

These people, along with the woman from Epiphany, received Jesus’ body and blood for the forgiveness of sins at the altar of their church. One by one as they had ashes imposed on their foreheads, reminding them of their mortality and sin, they also consumed life in the flesh and blood of their Lord. It doesn’t matter if there are 1,000 people, 500, 30, or even a small handful, Jesus promises, “where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them” (Matt. 18:20). And where Jesus is, there we sit. There we eat. There we live. “Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day” (John 6:54). No church ever gathers in vain.

Though it can be discouraging, and boy is it ever at times, the church is always significant. No matter how big, no matter how small, there is no such thing as an insignificant church. It’s the proclamation and recieving of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of sins that makes it so.