I have entered a new phase in life…at least in the eyes of the church:  No longer pushed into the marginalized wasteland of “college ministry” and long since cast out of the paradise of the “youth group,” I have finally reached the promised land:  Young Adult.  It wasn’t until I was actually sitting in a host home, chowing down on some Tzatziki with oreos, and talking to people who had real-life jobs like nurse, pharmacist, and graduate student that I realized I now belonged to this most prestigious Holy of Holies.

I know it’s probably not that big of a deal to most people, but it was cool for me.

Anyway, I have been fortunate to be involved in the young adult bible study at my September church.  Last night, we were talking about this whole theme in the Bible of giving to the poor, caring for the lowly, and all that jazz.  In the process, we collectively stumbled upon a practical dilemma that has been bothering me for some time:

If “we” as people of faith are to help “them” (the poor), then what role do “they” have in “our” faith?

Seriously, if a Christian/Jew/Muslim/Buddhist, is instructed to give to the poor, then how on earth is someone poor supposed to participate in that kind of faith?  There aren’t many big religious instructions about “taking from the wealthy.”  Though it is clearly not a uniquely Christian problem, it is increasingly difficult for middle-class Protestant churches with an eye toward social justice.

Later on, our leader asked if a homeless person would feel welcome at this church as an equal member of the community.  The question was met with a chorus of shaking heads and silence.  In case I haven’t mentioned it, this church probably houses the wealthiest cross-section of the Birmingham population.  WASP-y doesn’t even begin to describe these people.  To be sure, they are serving the poor, but would someone in poverty want to come be an integral part of this community?  Probably not.

What’s interesting about the Bible, though, is that it talks much less about helping the poor, and much more about the poor (and the oppressed generally) being revered in God’s vision of the earth.  Especially with Jesus:  The poor are blessed, the last are first, jamming camels through needle eyes is easier than the rich entering the kingdom of heaven.  That sort of stuff.

So why are so many of our churches stocked full of the rich and implicitly exclusive of those who are different?

I attended a communion service at a pretty interesting United Methodist experiment in downtown Birmingham.  The church is called “Church of the Reconciler,” and it purports to “challenge members to follow Jesus in multicultural, interracial community; maintain a commitment to be inclusive, welcoming all people regardless of age, gender, race, economic status, ethnic background, mental or physical ability, or sexual orientation.”

Radical Inclusion is the term the church uses, which means deliberately involving the homeless in the substantive work of the church.  Want reasons?  Well, “just as Jesus and his first disciples were homeless, many, many faithful Christian believers are homeless.”  As such, the church’s members and supporters supposedly come from every economic background.

I am not sure if they are accomplishing their stated goals, currently.  I visited on a Wednesday morning, and the attendance was 100% homeless.  Moreover, was a clear divide between those who were members and those who were there for a free meal (My guess is the man screaming “this is NOT God’s house!” was not a member).  The absence of the middle class and wealthy was striking.  In fact, it was exactly inverse of the homogeneity of most churches.

Maybe we should be more surprised when we don’t see homeless people in church?

I have heard that Sunday is more diverse, though, so I will stop by this weekend and see what I can find out.

Speaking of Sunday, I will be starting at a new church!  Still in Birmingham for October, but I am moving to a Presbyterian Church (USA).  Stay tuned for more…