I’ll never forget one Sunday morning after our family had just moved back to the U.S. from living overseas. We had to find a place to worship. “Church shopping,” as it’s sometimes called, was tough for many reasons. But on that particular Sunday morning, I observed something that made me downright giddy: curled-up linoleum in the women’s bathroom.
A worn-out restroom wouldn’t normally give me joy, but the somewhat neglected flooring told me something important about that church. Combined with a crowd bustling in the sanctuary, the lively conversations that ensued as soon as the worship service ended, and the gospel-packed sermon we’d just listened to, it was obvious this church had a healthy outward focus.
As first-time visitors, we were greeted by the pastor, other church staff, and everyone sitting near us in the sanctuary. Volunteers met my kids at the Sunday school room door with huge smiles, and our pew-mates offered me tissues when I shed some tears during the service.
These people cared more about welcoming newcomers than they did about the bathroom floors. Their hearts and their budget were set more on people than on their facility. I’m not suggesting curled linoleum is a litmus test for faithful churches. But we’d visited at least a few churches with beautiful bathrooms but no obvious enthusiasm for newcomers or the grace and gospel of Jesus. Seeing those vibrant people and their service, alongside an imperfect building, gave me hope that this congregation would be a place of refuge in our transition—a people who would make space for us.
Externally Focused
And they were. After a couple of Sundays, a handful of conversations with church members, and even invitations to hang out with them during the week, we learned this church’s culture was very outwardly focused. They worked hard to welcome outsiders, serve their community, and make their church building a warm and welcoming home for anyone who wanted to come in.
Their hearts and their budget were set more on people than on their facility.
Such a radical outward focus and commitment to welcoming others can feel risky and counterintuitive for both church leaders and members. Shouldn’t we focus on ourselves? we wonder. Will the people in here be OK if we keep extending a welcome to the people out there?
But here’s the crazy, countercultural, faith-requiring answer to those questions: To the extent we try to save or preserve or protect our churches for their own sakes, we will lose them. Jesus says to you and me and to every church family, “Lose your life for me and for the gospel and that’s where you will find true life” (see Matt. 10:39). The more we as individuals and our churches as a whole seek to lay ourselves down for others, the more joy, satisfaction, and true life we’ll find.
Rethinking Priorities
This upside-down spiritual truth is what my family observed at the church with the curled-up linoleum. Their priorities were evident: fixing up their church building came second to serving their community and inviting others in. One might think they needed to keep their facilities pristine so more people would visit and come back. It would certainly be a bonus for the church members who use that bathroom week in and week out. And please hear me, I’m not making a prescription for all churches to neglect their buildings for the sake of the gospel.
But this church’s example is provoking and worth considering. As church leaders and members, we’re wise to keep an eye out for signs our churches are too self-focused. Here are some questions worth asking:
Does your congregation see the culture outside your church as an enemy to be kept away or as people to be welcomed in with the love and mercy of Jesus?
Which are your church attendees more likely to ask: “What can I receive?” or “What can I give?”
When presented with a plan to plant a new church or to provide a missional outreach activity, is your congregation excited or resistant?
Does your congregation tend to idolize the past and the “good ol’ days,” or is there a fresh excitement about what God is doing today?
Looking at your church budget and calendar, do you see evidence of spending time and money on outward-facing ministry?
As a pastor or church leader, do you feel tempted to view people in the pews as dollars in the bank, thereby making yourself susceptible to catering to the people “in here” at the expense of the souls “out there”?
Laying Ourselves Down
If we’re honest, I think every Christian can detect in himself or herself an element of self-focus. Thankfully, our God is endless in mercy, and he’ll help us take up our crosses and follow him.
The more we seek to lay ourselves down for others, the more joy, satisfaction, and true life we’ll find.
The goal for you and me isn’t curled-up linoleum in our church bathrooms. The goal is to honor and proclaim Christ crucified, risen, and coming again. The goal is to lay ourselves and our churches down, again and again, for others, as our Savior did for us. As Jesus welcomed us in, may we too welcome others. Our Lord sacrificed his own comfort—his own life—that he might welcome us. By his indwelling power, may we go to great and sacrificial lengths to do the same.
The Gospel Coalition