A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he fell into the hands of robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead (Luke 10:30 NIV).
The Master told the story of the Samaritan, the stunningly godly citizen, the merciful heathen. It’s a familiar parable. But as Becky Pippert points out in Hope Has Its Reasons, “Christian truths are unknown, because they are too well known.”
I sit at a table with 11 students; nine college, and two high school. It’s 8:15 on Tuesday night, and as our weekly custom dictates we are writing letters. My current letter opens,
“Dear Attorney General:
“I write because I am seriously concerned about the safety of someone who has reportedly ‘disappeared’...”
Each Tuesday night the Amnesty International (AI) chapter at Union College meets to pray, discuss world events, plan events, and write letters. AI is a worldwide non-political voluntary movement with 1.8 million members in more than 150 countries who work primarily on behalf of prisoners of conscience—people who have never used nor advocated violence, who are being raped, tortured, jailed, threatened, and killed because of what they believe.
We are seldom certain how effective our letters are, though occasionally we hear of releases. Here are two actual samples:
“When the first two hundred letters came, the guards gave me back my clothes. Then the next two hundred letters came, and the prison director came to see me. When the next pile of letters arrived, the director got in touch with his superior. The letters kept coming and coming—three thousand of them. The President was informed. The letters still kept arriving, and the President called the prison and told them to let me go.”
“For years I was held in a tiny cell. My only human contact was with my torturers.... My only company were the cockroaches and mice.... On Christmas Eve the door to my cell opened and the guard tossed in a crumpled piece of paper. It said, ‘Take heart. The world knows you’re alive. We’re with you. Regards, Monica, Amnesty International.’ That letter saved my life.”
Two of the students at the table often miss chapel services at our college. What astounds me is that I know people who see these two students as “less spiritual” than those who miss our AI meetings every week. The belief persists that the supreme act of spirituality is “going to church.” This concept, of course, is foreign to Scripture. As evangelist Billy Sunday famously observed, “Going to church doesn’t make you a Christian any more than going to a garage makes you a car.”
What is the measure of true spirituality? First, we should be aware that even normative standards for measurement can be flawed. For example, basketball players are always measured from the tops of their heads to determine playing height. But, unlike soccer, no one does anything useful in basketball with the top of her or his head. A truer calculation would be to measure from the tip of an outstretched arm. A 5’9” player with a short neck and long arms can be legitimately taller than a 6’2” player with a long neck and short arms. What matters is the reach.
In Christianity, the spirituality question is also one of reach. Who will reach out like the Samaritan? Many Christians seem to have lost sight of the truth that real spirituality is found in justly, mercifully, and humbly doing acts of love. “Going to church” is primarily important because it enables us to become better lovers in realms where people can be reached.* The week doesn’t prepare us for the Sabbath so much as the Sabbath prepares us for the week.
God is personal but never private. Jim Wallis, editor of Sojourners magazine and a prophetic voice in the wilderness today, affirms, “When spirituality isn’t disciplined by the struggle for justice, we can become narcissistic. Cynicism is a buffer against commitment.” Three billion people live on less than two dollars a day. Each day, 30,000 children die from lack of clean drinking water and starvation-related causes. How does this square with celebrity infatuation and the entertainment world’s endless self-hype?
Wouldn’t it be horrible if our Master continued His story, “So likewise when a Seventh-day Adventist came to the place and saw him, the Adventist remained securely in the current comfortable lane and passed by on the other side?”
Let us walk on the right side of spirituality. The side where we touch the world’s hurt. The side of risky response. The side that moves us beyond loving mercy to doing justly.
Doing Justly Every Week
Do you ever wonder if there’s a better exit from a motivating Sabbath sermon than to shake hands, smile, and think about lunch? How many times can a person get inspired to do something for God and do nothing?
What if, instead, upon exiting a sermon, members encountered on a ministry gallery a menu of options to provide practical help to someone in the community? On the gallery in the foyer is a list of contacts, times, and phone numbers for church members to assist someone in need. A member sits behind a table to sign people up and answer questions. Possible ministries include providing car mechanic service to single moms, paying an electric bill for a month, giving Bible studies, doing yard work, intercessory praying, writing letters for Al, tutoring with the local literacy council, etc.
This means the church exerts as much energy on finding people to help and helping them as it does in running its own programs. This may mean electing a ministry team and coordinator as regular church officers. It definitely means providing a substantial budget and involving new and young members in leadership positions.
Tony Campolo tells a parable of touring an oil refinery where petroleum is broken down into gasoline, lubricating oil, and other products. At the end of the tour someone asks, “Where is the shipping department?”
“Oh, there is no shipping department,” the tour guide explains. “All the energy generated in this refinery is used to keep the refinery going.”
When most of the money and energy of the church is consumed in promoting its own programs, building its own membership, and constructing its own buildings, it becomes an end to itself. A whitewashed tomb. Another saltshaker on display.
No church is “being spiritual” until it has enabled every member to be vitally involved in an ongoing, conscience-driven, enjoyable ministry.
Peter Benson, president of Search Institute, described a church he attended that emphasized true spirituality. “The most sacred moment of the church service,” he concluded, “was when they opened the doors of the church and we walked back into the neighborhoods where we live.”
*The original “altar call” was invented by Charles Finney to sign up people in church for an anti-slavery petition.
Chris Blake is the associate director of English and communication at Union College in Lincoln, Nebraska. This article is an excerpt from his new book, Swimming Against the Current: Living for the God You Love, scheduled to be released by Pacific Press this spring.
