My church celebrated its one year anniversary in our new location
this past Sunday. It was a wonderful
celebration. For several years we had
talked about how glorious it would be when we finally got into our new home in
downtown Dallas. We wanted to be an
urban church. We wanted our fellowship
of believers to have the look of Heaven…every race, language and
background. We purposefully prayed for a
location that would open ourselves up to those around us and be a church of
love and acceptance. We found just the
place…right on a DART rail station platform and across the street from one of
Dallas’ community colleges. You get off
the train and within a few feet you’re at our front door.
The church and parking lots sit on an entire block. Our parking lot is behind our church. So in order to get to the doors of the church
you either have to walk around the back of the building to the left through
another parking lot or around to the right via the DART rail platform.
I have always taken the route of the platform. It is a mysterious and wondrous journey. The platform is always full of people, a few
tourists, but mostly homeless people, some obvious drug addicts and some just
passing through with no apparent destination in mind. Usually it is an uneventful walk. However, on a couple occasions I’ve had
someone ask for money for food. I ask
them if I can buy them a cup of coffee and a muffin, and walk with them down
the platform into the church where our coffee shop is located. It gives me an opportunity to explain that this
building is a church, etc. I am a shy
person, don’t like confrontation, so I try to get to know this person, find out
their name so I can pray specifically for them and that’s about it. I don’t preach, don’t ask if they know
Jesus…I tend to just listen and spring for a cup of joe.
You’ve got to know this is WAY outside my comfort zone. I have butterflies in my stomach when I walk
the platform every Sunday. But, somehow
I have the courage and KNOW KNOW KNOW that it is the right thing to do. Somehow doing this reminds me of my Dad. He came to mind one Sunday as I nervously
walked the platform and found renewed courage and determination because I knew
my Dad would walk the platform. He’d do
it quietly, but be open to whatever came his way. Plus, my 45+ years of being a member of The
Salvation Army church laid a foundation within me of loving the unlovable
however I am able to do it.
So, here’s the thing.
One Sunday about two months ago I pulled into the parking lot and got
out of my car. A lot of my brothers and
sisters in Christ were arriving as well.
As I started to walk through the lot to the right towards the platform I
notice everyone was walking in the opposite direction to go around the building
to the left…away from the platform. Wow,
I thought. How interesting. I pondered it for a few minutes and then
moved on.
Last Sunday I arrived and parked in the lot, got out of my
car and started to walk toward the platform as usual when the parking attendant
called out to me.
“I’m sorry ma’am, this lot is for church parking only.”
I turned around and smiled at him and said, “Yes, I know.”
He said, “Oh, uh, oh, I’m so sorry. It’s just that everyone usually walks this
way (pointing to the left).”
I couldn’t help but smile as I assured him it was okay and
turned to continue walking toward the platform.
Then as what took place started to sink in, I became very sad. Sad because I realized my church may be
headed down a path of fear, judgement and isolation. What we all were cheering about and united
in prior to moving into this space- being an urban church accepting and loving of
all- perhaps is harder to live out than what we originally anticipated.
Yesterday as I sat listening to our pastor celebrate our one
year anniversary and others talk about how “God is in this place”…I wondered...yes,
God is in this place, He shows up every Sunday it seems and moves, blesses,
sanctifies, forgives, loves….but He’s also out there on the DART rail platform…and
if we’re not careful, as the body of Christ, He may move out and just take up
residence on the platform.
I know most of what is happening is out of fear. Fear of the unknown, of confrontation, of being
rebuffed. I have those fears. This route is definitely not the safe way. But, I believe the way via the platform is
the way of the cross. It’s not easy, it’s
hard. You may be rejected, bruised, even
beaten up. Sound familiar?
The outcasts of Dallas populate the platform and we are
walking into our church doors without acknowledging them or loving them or
inviting them in from the world.
Yikes. God help us.
It doesn’t have to be that complicated…it’s just about love.
Nine times out of ten no one approaches
me, yet I am determined to walk down the platform because I know it is Jesus
who is walking that platform, not me. We
are the body of Christ. If we don’t walk
the platforms of life, who will? How
will the outcasts see Jesus if they never see us?
Go the way of the platform.
Go the way of the cross.
