As Christians we are called to respond to the physical and spiritual need we see around us. But how can we share the hope of Jesus in a way that’s sustainable and that isn’t harmful to the people we’re trying to serve - and to ourselves? How can we meet people’s needs that go beyond quick fixes?
Let me start with a question. What or who do we think of when we hear the word poverty?
It’s easy to have a simplistic view of it, something that applies to other people and not us. Poverty of course can include unmet financial need, but it can go much deeper.
Poverty is far reaching – it’s rooted in brokenness – broken hope, broken relationships, broken systems and broken behaviours. In Christ all things are held together (Colossians 1:17), and in this fallen world, the opposite is also true.
And so, sadly none of us are without some form of poverty in our lives. We need practical ways to respond but also a deep missional spirituality to sustain us.
Missional spirituality is not about projects or programmes that we execute, nor is it about policies or processes we implement.
Missional spirituality are practices we can do (the possible) so that we can do what we need to (the impossible). Here are three that I’ve found especially helpful.
I meet so many people for whom the last couple of years have been marked by pain, trauma and tragedy. The legacy of COVID and the current cost of living crisis have revealed a lot of unfinished grief, unprocessed sadness, and relational pain that we can carry with us on a day-to-day basis. On a global level, the headlines of war and hunger have become all too familiar, but there are so many untold stories from marginalised people that are often ignored, forgotten or denied.
Even as Christians, we have a tendency to numb the pain. There’s lots of ways we can do this – from optimism to cynicism. These can insulate us from having to feel our pain but deep down we know we just can't “get over it”. Lamenting is the opposite of this – and it’s something the Bible encourages us to do.
It doesn’t mean whining, a lack of faith or questioning God. Lament is the honest truth-telling about the brokenness we experience in the world around us – and in ourselves.
It turns our internal grief and anger openly to God. It slows us down in our rush to find quick fixes to our pain or the pain of others. The psalmist cries “Why, Lord, do you stand far off? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?” (Psalm 10:1). We can easily keep God at arm’s length if we don’t allow ourselves to speak honestly to him.
Our faithful Christian witness is sustained and nourished by this reckoning of reality as we learn to make room for lament. This crying out joins us into solidarity with those suffering around us.
It means that when I speak with a neighbour who is struggling to cope, I hold back from offering advice, and I make room to listen for grief, fear and shame. I come alongside them in pain, and I lament it with them. In a church setting it means we regularly include songs, prayer and scripture of lament in our corporate worship, and create space for people to share their stories of pain and trauma.
But we don’t just stay there. Eventually, we go from listening to lament to the hope and praise of God’s deliverance. Hear what the psalmist says later “You, Lord, hear the desire of the afflicted; you encourage them, and you listen to their cry, defending the fatherless and the oppressed.” (Psalm 10:17-18). If we want to experience the reality of hope, we must take seriously the reality of pain.
I read in a news article that millions in the UK have no savings set aside, leaving them vulnerable to unexpected bills. Let me present you with a hypothetical situation. If you suddenly lost everything, how long would you need to make it out of the crisis and start again? Most of us would only take a few minutes to find something to eat, a few hours to find somewhere to sleep, and a few weeks to find some work to do.
And what would have made the difference? The people around us who would come to our aid – our friends.
Wealth is not just financial in nature but also social or relational. The root of the problem is not merely the lack of financial capital but social capital. We are not poor because we have friends.
The same news article shared the story of Kylie, a mother-of-six who faced financial difficulties and with no financial safety net, was scared of being judged and was ashamed of seeking help. If each one of us decides to start a friendship with someone like Kylie, with all the risks and complicated aspects of friendship, what difference would that have made to her life?
A good question to ask ourselves is, “Who are you a friend to?” (Luke 10:36-37)
I believe the church can show radical welcome to those who are so often socially marginalised and spiritually deprived. One of the most destructive consequences in our culture is social alienation. Theologian Joshua Jipp describes this fundamental problem presented in the gospel, as alienation from God and from others.
“We are—all of us—those described by Jesus as the poor, the captive, the blind, and oppressed—desperately in need of encountering the saving benefits of “the year of the Lord’s welcome” (Luke 4:18–19)… But the good news of the gospel is that God’s hospitality has transformed us into God’s friends and family.”
At its core, Biblical hospitality means making room for others. People see the gospel as much as they hear the gospel.
When we see the spirituality of hospitality as a way of life, we see the need to practice being safe people, having an accepting heart and listening ears, an openness and attentiveness to the needs of strangers, being generous, and voluntarily putting ourselves in the margin to connect with those on the margins of society.
Billionaire Elon Musk, has told his staff that they must commit to working “long hours at high intensity. Only exceptional performance will constitute a passing grade” or else leave the company. I suspect we wouldn’t hear these exact words echoed in our churches!
However, Christian ministry can end up being a 24/7 occupation, and especially when combined with another vocation, has the risk of burning us out.
A recent research by the Christian Think Tank, Theos revealed that many longstanding church volunteers have stepped back from front line ministry “due to the inability to afford it, rather than the lack of willingness to do so.” Even the bus fare to church during the week might now be prohibitive. This no doubt puts extra pressure on the few that remain.
As a pastor, when I think back on the times I’ve burnt out – the reason I have been weak is that I have tried to be too strong. I carried a load and burden that was not mine to carry. How do we combat compassion fatigue and prevent burnout? How can we support those on the front lines when the cost-of-living crisis threatens our last line of defence?
I once read that our society is ruled by the dominant story and practice of scarcity. Scarcity tells us there will never be enough and we have to hustle to get ours and to stay ahead. The opposite of this is abundance.
The Bible calls this shalom and the hallmarks are joy, love and generosity. Israel learned from the Sabbath commandment that there is an alternative to the aggressive anxiety defined by the life under Pharoah.
The gospel story of abundance declares that we are citizens of another kingdom - a kingdom not ruled by the clock and the tyranny of the urgent. Rhythmically, sabbath reminds us that we belong to the worldwide family of the generous God.
Sabbath is God’s way of saying “Stop! Notice your limits!”
This goes beyond just Sundays. It’s an everyday perspective. It means that when I’m meeting someone’s needs, I remind myself that I’m not drawing on my own resources.
I commit this person in the care of the one who’s in control and who gives generously. I remind myself that I’m a vessel being used by the Lord, which frees me from crippling self-reliance and burn-out.
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LCM shares the gospel alongside the local church of London, equipping everyday Christians to lovingly bring a message of hope in Christ to those least likely to hear it.
Registered Charity No. 247186
