Love The People In The Room

It happened yet again. It is such a common occurrence that I have long stopped counting, and yet I was surprised. It still stole my focus and sent an ache directly to my heart.

           I saw their unfamiliar faces when I stepped into the pulpit and took stock of those God had called together to hear the preached Word. We’re a small church praying for more locals to join us in worship so new people stand out and bring an excitement of possibly answered prayers. This attitude of happy anticipation can be a challenge to maintain when our gatherings are so frequently visited by vacationers, but by God’s grace, our congregation is still eager to warmly greet newcomers.

           As I worked my way through the text, I found no clear signs that these new faces were either dreading or enjoying what they had walked into. There was plenty of eye contact, and they seemed to blend in with the faithful brothers and sisters eagerly soaking up the Scriptures. We were together under the Word when I looked down at my manuscript, and when I looked up, they were gone.

           My mind instantly assumed I had done something wrong. Had I gotten carried away and preached too long? Had I said something offensive? Were my illustrations poor? Was my exegesis in error? Was I too loud? Was I not loud enough? There are many reasons people might leave a meeting before the end, but I instinctively concluded it was my fault.

           My bruised ego begged my mind to wrestle out the mystery and find the guilty culprit that sent our guests to their car, but the reality of silence on my microphone brought me back and graciously reminded me that I had a sermon to finish. The young couple sitting near the sound booth in the back had vanished, but I still had truly good news to announce.

           Most of the people in the room had no idea what had happened. They were as focused now as at the beginning, and these familiar faces have all encouraged me to preach and lead them to Jesus. Week after week, these people take notes, ask questions, and fight to listen even when their kids are working against them. I turned my attention back to the Scriptures and back to the God who had called me to preach in season and out of season. My thoughts stutter-stepped, but I had to admit that I didn’t know why these guests left. It was silly, and probably egotistical, to assume I was the villain.

           With the aid of the Helper, I was able to put that distraction aside and press on, exalting Christ in his awesome power over death and the devil. I wish our guests had been able to hear that part of the message, but I am grateful that God helps weak preachers like me persevere for the good of the flock that persevered to the end.

In times like this, Peter’s words to the elders in his first epistle are worth their weight in gold: “Shepherd the flock of God that is among you” (5:2) . We can’t get hamstrung by those who leave or those who don’t show up. We must feed the flock we’ve been given. There have been many guests who have left early, and if the Lord should tarry, there will be many more, but in the hour for preaching, it is our calling to love the people in the room.

It is those among us that we are responsible to shepherd, but our longing to plant and cultivate healthy churches for a global harvest demands that we also care about the people who do not attend our gatherings. We must pour ourselves out for familiar worshipers but still be mindful of the neighbor who mows his lawn on Sunday morning. The traffic delaying the worship team should motivate us toa disciplined pattern of prayer. The horrors of the coming judgment for those outside of Christ should stir up hospitality, and the beauties of Jesus’ compassion for sinners should push us to befriend the people outside of our church community. The empty chairs in our meeting spaces should cause us some heartache and remind us to nurture a warm and welcoming environment.

           The Sovereign Lord has assigned to the church the duty of going into all the world to make disciples, and we dare not lose sight of our mission. We must keep a desire to see new faces, yet this mission cannot keep us from deep affection for the regulars. It is often the case that our longings to reach our city and our need to be tender toward the flock of God that is among us fight over resources. We can’t let the wicked lie take root in our minds that we must choose one or the other. Healthy Christian love craves new people and rejoices to see the same faces week after week.

That moment of tension in the pulpit when our visitors left mid-sermon was a clear expression of my heart’s longing to see more Charlestonians drawn by the gospel’s power. Still, it was also a caution flag calling into question my thankfulness and contentment with what the Lord has already done in our assembly. Disappointments about those who leave or those who never come are probably commendable responses in general, but there is also an impurity in our disappointments that reflects an unholy attitude about the people God has brought into the church.

           I’m reminded of Bonhoeffer’s sobering words in Life Together. Therein, Bonhoeffer grabs hold of the human tendency to imagine an ideal church and then fuss about all the ways reality falls short. He calls this imagined ideal church a “wish dream.” He writes,

“Every human wish dream that is injected into the Christian community is a hindrance to genuine community and must be banished if genuine community is to survive. He who loves his dream of a community more than the Christian community itself becomes a destroyer of the latter, even though his personal intentions may be ever so honest and earnest and sacrificial.”

The longing for a healthier church ought never to hinder our love for the flock we’ve been given. We must be careful not to let our dream of a global harvest destroy the very real community gathered around plastic tables in the fellowship hall.

           I want to preach with such divine help that people lose track of time, and I long for every facet of our gathering to be supernaturally attractive to both sinners and saints. We regularly pray that God will change our community with new converts, but in these longings and prayers, we must be cautious not to fall into Bonhoeffer’s wish dream.

           We must be careful not to hinder and destroy what is with our earnest prayers for what could be. We must strive to be welcoming to newcomers and zealous for new Christians, yet grateful for those who are anything but new. God will give and God will take people away, and we must be ready in either case to say, “Blessed be the name of the Lord”.

It may be that the Lord has called you to shepherd a cold and cliquish church, and you know well that an impermeable church is sure to die. You’re absolutely right to pray for better, but if you don’t love the flock of God that is among you, you will fail to honor your Chief Shepherd and obey his commands:

“So I exhort the elders among you, as a fellow elder and witness of the sufferings of Christ, as well as a partaker in the glory that is going to be revealed: shepherd the flock of God that is among you, exercising oversight, not under compulsion, but willingly, as God would have you; not for shameful gain, but eagerly; not domineering over those in your charge, but being examples to the flock. And when the chief Shepherd appears, you will receive the unfading crown of glory.” 1 Peter 5:1-4

           Pastor, teacher, church member, itis good and pleasing in your Father’s sight for you to pray for more people to join your fellowship. I pray we never lose the ache to see every seat in our auditoriums filled, but we must remember that we are called to pour ourselves out for the good of those God has put in front of us. Whether there are many or few, whether the new people stay or not, let us strive to be found faithful to lay hold of God for grace to love the people in the room.

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