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Last week, I wrote about the realities of suffering and the church. Jesus seemed fairly clear that those who follow Him would suffer for it, suggesting that a church that does not suffer may not be following Christ as He has called them to. Again, we are not to go looking for suffering for its own sake, but to be unwaveringly bold as we dare to live out the teachings of Jesus, to follow Him, not just worship Him.
It is all too easy for us to define our position as a “persecuted” community through the lens of things which we stand against. In other words, as we publicly oppose abortion, it is not uncommon to be vocally rejected and despised by many people in the world. However, while such stances are necessary (even if we have gone about it poorly more often than not), I do not believe that our true suffering will primarily about what we oppose. Instead, following Christ will produce a community whose behaviour, even internally, will offend and threaten the powers that be.
Perhaps one of the most critical of such behaviours in early church history was the practice of hospitality, especially with respect to welcoming people of very diverse, even divergent, economic positions. Early Christian communities were often characterized by their inclusion of the rich and the poor together. It was not simply that both were included, but rather than the nature of that inclusion was intentionally subversive to the expectations and patterns of the world. The poor were not condescended to or merely tolerated, but often given the place of honour, while the rich were encouraged to humble themselves in the community.
It is critical, at this stage, to understand that Jesus (and His wider Jewish tradition) held very integrated view the material and the spiritual with respect to poverty/wealth. In other words, it is not merely a matter of if you have great wealth or no wealth nor is simply a matter of being “spiritually” rich or poor. It was both. Jesus affirmed that follow Him would lead to a life in which the bondage of material wealth would be loosened and our commitment to generosity, simplicity and hospitality would lend itself to an economic place that was more likely to be humble than in abundance.
This is part of Jesus’s upside down kingdom, living in a way so contrary to the way of the world that it seems ludicrous. And yet, Jesus calls us into communities where poverty (as nuanced above) is something we are to take joy in, while wealth (again, nuanced) something that should teach us humility. While we do not have the space to get into this in detail here, the point is that our communities should relate to the dynamics of economics differently than the world does.
However, what is most critical for us to recognize is that the rich and the poor did not just happen to be part of the same community, but were there by necessity. Unlike today, where choosing a Christian community is akin to shopping the market, the early Christians were a minority, an often persecuted minority at that. Thus, they found themselves together as a community of diversity.
That diversity, while perhaps a necessity in their context, was hugely formational to the nature of their community and the focus of their ministry. The Roman Emperor Julian commented (disdainfully) on such an identity when he said that their numbers were “specially advanced through the loving service rendered to strangers, and through their care for the burial of the dead. It is a scandal that there is not a single Jew who is a beggar, and that the godless Galileans care not only for their own poor but for ours as well; while those who belong to us look in vain for the help that we should render them.” In other words, they were selflessly caring for the very people who persecuted and killed them. And this was a threat to the empire and its interests.
All this is to say that, when we consider becoming a community that suffers for Christ, we should give special attention to how we relate to those of lower or higher economic status. Do our church communities truly and functionally honour the poor? Do we encourage the wealthy to humble themselves? How often is the reverse true? These are critical questions for us to unflinchingly ask ourselves.
However, it goes much deeper than this. After all, unlike the early church, necessity does not require most of us to share life with people of different economic or social status. As a result, our communities lack the powerful formation that shapes who we are and the ministry we engage in. Such an admission requires that we ask much harder questions, such as: Might obedience to Christ call demand a re-orientation, even relocation, to intentionally pursue such relationships? If such a response is necessary, are we willing to uproot ourselves, our families, perhaps even our churches in order to follow Him? As I am fond of saying, when God said there should be no poor among you, He wasn’t recommending segregation.
What does this have to do with suffering? Without question, the radical reorientation I believe that God is calling His church to will threaten the powers that be, both in the world and among the religious status quo. It is only when we begin to invite people into our homes, attempt to feed the hungry in our communities, create alternatives for economic justice- it is only in the midst of such a reorientation that begin to discover our counter-cultural Christ’s community is called to be and how many of the world’s (and the church’s) systems resist such a change.
Not every Christian is called to move into a poor neighbourhood (though far more are called to that than are obediently responding). However, every Christian is called to live a life of generous simplicity and radical hospitality in whatever context they are called (again, not one they simply happen to be in- there is nothing incidental about place). Every Christian is called to participate in a community that is seeking to be formed into the image of Christ- a formation that necessitates sacrificial and costly choices.
What do you think? Am I overstating my case? If not, what response should we give?
My family moved from suburban Detroit where my dad was the pastor of a conventional church when I was in 3rd grade to be apart of a church that was experimenting with christian community in Terre Haute, IN. We bought a farm and almost as soon as we had settled in, the church grew uncomfortable with what was happening with this experiment. Within six months many of the people including my dad and the pastor of the church had sold their homes, uprooted their families and moved to the inner city of Grand Rapids, MI to continue their ministry to the poor and outcast and worship in a school gym. I am the wrong person to relate the worth of that move since I pretty much cursed the day we left that farm and I went from seeing my dad everyday to very seldom having his attention. Otherwise I saw everyone involved doing it with a great deal of energy, conviction and purpose. No looking back at what they had left but striving for what was becoming more of a community than they had imagined. My family and especially my dad would say that you have not at all overstated your case and they can say that based on personal experience. I might add that the costs, that I have not so subtly hinted at, are not always so easy to count and even more difficult to recognize in the midst of all the excitement.
Hey Dan,
It is easy to allow idealism cloud our judgment. Communities that are built of ideals, no matter how well intentioned, tend to burn brightly, but briefly. There are costs, but we should be careful that we don’t use that reality to put people through needless pain for its own sake. Thanks for sharing.
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I really loved this question: Do our church communities truly and functionally honour the poor? It really got me thinking about the church I’m a part of. I also loved the idea of us being radically and generously simple with hospirality as a key marker of our lifestyle. I also wonder if our ruling empire would note how we care for them, like Julian did back then?
Andrew, I think our culture would take notice. While not as extreme (by far) as in Julian’s day, many Christian friends have faced charges from local government for simply sharing food in the park with the friends. Why? Because those friends were homeless.
[...] Hospitality, Economics, and the Suffering Church Jesus affirmed that follow[ing] Him would lead to a life in which the bondage of material wealth [...]
Thanks for a passionate plea for unity in the midst of necessary and desired diversity. In a culture of homogeneity–especially in our churches–a radical inclusion is proclaiming the gospel.
I think Dan touches on it and it is a question i have thought about often. What is the line between serving the poor and hungry and taking care of ourselves? Or said differently, is there a danger of glorifying poverty? I have some personal experience that relates to this and it is a tough issue to work through. Appreciate the challenge though and it is a good one for a church culture, where i am from, who is part of the 1%.
Thanks Rob. I appreciate that.
James, while we do have to be careful how we do it- both for our own sakes and that of the poor. However, I think we would both agree that, for the most part, the church has not erred on the side over service. While your concerns are relevant, they shouldn’t be used by others to justify inaction. I am glad you seem to share that view. Thanks!