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A church as a definition of inclusive

A few years ago, a social-activist group in Vancouver decided to hold a street festival in Pigeon Park, where Gospel Mission stood at the time.
A Church as the Definition of “Inclusive”
A Church as the Definition of “Inclusive”

A Church as the Definition of “Inclusive”A few years ago, a social-activist group in Vancouver decided to hold a street festival in Pigeon Park, where Gospel Mission stood at the time. Our senior pastor, Barry Babcook, contacted the organizer and asked if he might set up a table there, to talk about the Mission and its work. “Sure!” came the reply. “We’re very inclusive!”

Barry told me about the exchange later, and I could imagine his brow furrowing and his way of saying “O ..... KAY!”, in that semi-quizzical tone that asked the question, “what’s wrong with this picture?”

See, I know that a knock against Christian churches has been that they are non-inclusive, filled with people who don’t want to associate with anyone who Isn’t Like Them and want everyone to think the same way they do. Non-inclusive seems to define Christian churches, right?

Well, stereotypes come from somewhere, so I’m sure there are some churches like that, but from my own experience, I didn’t really know what “inclusive” meant until I set foot in a church. 

Maybe it was the fact that the first churches I experienced, and am still drawn to, are essentially independent, or part of a loose association, as opposed to an established denomination. In any event, it was there that I got to know people of all shapes and sizes. There were Black people, Asians, people whose ethnicity you couldn’t really tell, Indigenous people with amazing spiritual gifts (some of the fiercest “sin-busters” I’ve met are Indigenous). There was one woman who would repeatedly get up and walk out during a sermon and come back a few minutes later: at first, I thought she was really rude until I realized she had a form of autism and couldn’t sit still for more than five minutes. There were wealthy people, poor people (some hoping that the Christian ideal of helping one’s neighbour was good for the occasional five-spot), and people struggling with “issues”, looking for validation, condemnation, or rehabilitation through the Bible.

There were people with their backs to the wall, with no place left to turn and no one left to blame.

Like me.

I’m grateful that those were the first kind of churches I went to. I was new to Christ at the time, and like many new Christians, I tended to define my faith by what I was against, rather than what I was for: a church more “doctrinal” or rigid might have nurtured that wrong-headedness.

“Inclusive” also defines a Skid Row mission like Gospel Mission and others like it. We didn’t shake down people to find out if they were Christian before we let them in, and we adopted a very long fuse when it came to behaviour before we’d toss them out. Anyone was welcome at the table and definitely, “anyone” described the makeup of the Mission crowd.

Look at the people Jesus chose to hang out with: His Apostles were a broad mix; He chowed-down with “tax collectors and sinners”; even the occupying Romans recognized who He was; His birth was announced not to the religious leaders of the time, but to a diverse group of astrologers and soothsayers in a way forbidden to God’s people. Truly, Jesus wrote the book on “inclusive”!

At the Mission, the result of this inclusiveness was some amazing examples of people finding a new reason to live. Some would clean up, turn around and get as far from the Downtown East Side as possible. Some would become volunteers and minister to others. Some would display a surprising depth of knowledge about the Bible and give insights that I stole, liberally, to turn into sermons. Some would simply walk in a greater level of hope. And some, alas, would continue to spin out of control, because despair is inclusive, too. 

Sure, there are some Christian-identifying churches that shun, or have adopted so many man-made rules and doctrines that newcomers, looking for comfort, wind up feeling unqualified and unwelcome. As I say, there’s a reason why stereotypes are conceived. On the other hand, the people who feel unqualified and unwelcome may still be unwilling to own their issues.

(Memo to those who feel “unqualified”: your salvation does not depend on someone’s estimation. Just believe. Everything else will fall into place in God’s time. I speak from experience.)

By the way, yes, Christians want people to think like them. When the Apostle Paul was arrested for preaching Christ, he was brought before King Agrippa, and witnessed Jesus to him as his defence. Agrippa said, “You almost persuade me to become a Christian”, to which Paul replies, “I would to God that not only you, but also all who hear me today, might become both almost and altogether such as I am, except for these chains.” (Acts 26:29 NKJV) Who wouldn’t want to see others experience the joy of “newness”, second chances (and third and fourth and how many it takes), and the ability to think beyond the “four walls” of our own natural senses? 

When the idea is not to look at where you’ve been, but where you’re going, “inclusive” is what it’s all about.

A Church as the Definition of “Inclusive”Drew Snider is a former pastor at Gospel Mission on Vancouver's Downtown East Side, and has been a guest speaker at churches in BC. He writes about the people and events in his e-book, ‘God At Work: A Testimony of Prophecy, Provision and People Amid Poverty’. (available at online bookstores)

Photo of hikers  by Matt Heaton on Unsplash

You can read more articles on our interfaith blog, Spiritually Speaking HERE