Diary Entries From A Church Secretary

At least three times a week, if not a day, someone comes to the door outside of the church office and attempts to open it. It’s locked, of course, so they press the button that requests an audience with whomever might be on the other side of the camera screen. That’s me. In a second, I have to determine if that Image-bearer is worthy of an audience.

Many days, I’m appalled by my initial thoughts fueled by racism, sexism, and ageism. My determination of their worthiness often comes simply by their physical appearance, as I’m privy to what they look like because of the security camera perched above my desk. And it seems that mercy relies solely upon my judgment of their appearance.  

I have a giant green file folder busting at the seams with “Applications for Emergency Financial Assistance.” Within it are needs ranging from a small request for a late gas bill to months of late rent. Occasionally, we’ll have a single mom evicted from her apartment. Hungry kiddos. Scared mom. Sometimes, it’ll be a man out of work. Or an elderly lady with health issues and motherless grandchildren, incapable of work and not qualifying for government assistance.

Real people with real stories of how it’s really not working out for them. And they come to a church building - a symbol of sanctuary, the place they hope to get close to God – for help in their distress.

In our culture’s cutthroat pursuit to attain independence, security, ease, and contentment, we've forgotten our command to entertain strangers and be hospitable.

Leviticus 19:33-34 “When a stranger sojourns with you in your land, you shall not do him wrong. The stranger who sojourns with you shall be to you as the native among you, and you shall love him as yourself; for you were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God.”

“By practicing hospitality, particularly to those who could not repay them, God’s people affirmed the surpassing value of knowing God and his blessings. Their obedience invited the Lord to give them his blessings instead of the gains that they could provide for themselves.” (Generous Giving)

In 17 days, I’m getting married. I’ll stand under a wedding canopy called a chuppah and say some really important words, held together by our faithful God, to my brave groom. The chuppah itself is picture and a vow to be hospitable to those in need, as it has no walls keeping out visitors. Our marriage should be one that eases the burden of the vagabond. And a church should be the same.

We should be a people marked by our generosity. My friends in Uganda show me time and time again that money, homes, and cars should mean nothing to us except a means to living a life that gives freely. Our open-handedness should show one thing: Christ is our Treasure.

I want to say “yes” more because I’ve come to realize I need to say “no” to a lot of my own desires. And by denying my inclination to materialism, I may be able to help the very people to whom I am afraid to open the door.

So yeah, it’d probably be an act of obedience to extend the budget line item in our “Benevolence Fund” to include more than “just our church members.”