There is nothing worse than recommending someone not come to your church. It pains me to say it, then and now.

A young seeker, looking to reconnect with church wanted to talk. We knew each other from previous work, so it was a different kind of awkward. It wasn’t the usual talking-to-strangers kind. She was reading books, discerning a call to return to a community of faith, and was making those first timid steps toward returning.

She would never go back to the church of her origin. It was rigid, thoughtless, abusive. She wanted a healthier church. One that would have space for her to explore, to dream, and to come alive in the Spirit. A true church.

She came to me to help her find the place, joined us for worship, and then met with me later in the week.

Now, I don’t remember ever being told this, but it seemed to be true: as a priest, my job was to attend to her need, rather than my community’s desire for growth. So I had to give her guidance that pained me to say.

You shouldn’t come to my church.

She and I were on the same page. That just wasn’t the page the congregation was on. It just wasn’t healthy enough. I kindly gave her other suggestions and encouragement.

There is a challenge to ministry, particularly when you are called to be a part of a group that isn’t like you or isn’t headed where you are headed. It is extra hard when you are asked to be in leadership of a church that you probably wouldn’t attend.

The challenge the Parable of the Lost Coin gives us, as I preached on Sunday, is that we might not be anything like the woman in the parable, whose sense of urgency and focus demand immediate action and accommodation, rather than prudence and careful consideration. [For more detail of how this parable works, check out this earlier post.]

This parable doesn’t evoke the usual words: care, consideration, prudence, wisdom, virtue, stewardship: words that we throw around in the church with such abandon. Words that seem to be so important to us. Jesus is teaching the opposite. What it does evoke are a sense of now, joy, generosity, devotion, freedom, affirmation, and accommodation. Are these not the very ideals we most long for? Not just in GOD, but in our church and in one another?

This parable certainly tells us to get our act together. And I believe that it tells us to not only leave the door open for others, or go out and find them, but to make real room for them, allowing ourselves to be moved by that which is lost.

Most of all, this is a parable about action, celebration, and joy. I’m pretty sure these are Jesus’s hallmarks for His followers. How might they become yours?

[I’ve written several times about this, including yesterday and this new insight from Monday. Or check out this list. You think I maybe kind of like it?]