Jamin Bradley

“I’m afraid I’d be too comfortable here,” a church visitor once told me when they were trying to decide if they were going to plug into our community.

“I can’t say I’ve heard that one before,” I laughed. They took their statement back about ten minutes later.

Many people loved our Dinner Church model, which served many impoverished people in our city, but not everyone wanted to be involved. Admittedly, it could be a bit awkward sometimes.

For example, one Sunday, it was reported to me that two visitors had restraining orders against each other. Another time, we had two frenemies present in our service. When I didn’t immediately take the side of one of them, they began to yell at me in the middle of a crowded sanctuary. They didn’t stop until they had exited the building, leaving me now to walk on stage and lead worship. Still another time, the whole church gathered around to pray for someone as they genuinely wept over a story that they had made up. When I caught them in the middle of the lie the next morning, they refused to admit it to no end.

Urban ministry is full of unexpected moments. The first time I couldn’t go to church because I wasn’t sure if I had caught COVID or not, I sat at home and watched our service online. As a member of the church preached outside, gunshots went off nearby. From my understanding, there was a family across the street that didn’t seem to care when their kids played with their handguns in the backyard.

You see and hear it all in this job, especially when you try to reach those stuck at the bottom. Some visitors walked out the door with the church’s money. Some kids stole our Nintendo Wii. Someone stole one of my favorite hoodies. Some other kids used our church phone to call 911 for no reason. Someone made a drug drop out of the church window behind me while I led worship.

While there are many beautiful stories to highlight in this kind of ministry, there are also difficult ones like these. I share them to highlight the messiness that sometimes comes when we step into the mission of Jesus, and also to remind us that it’s all worth it. These are the kind of reasons some churches move out of their community, but for us, they’re the reason we stay. This is heavy, necessary work that’s real and raw. When we serve those in need, we serve Jesus.