Pastor Tim and I (sitting with our backs to the wall; I’m on the right with the white shirt) talking with a table filled with people who live near the church, but whom we had never met.

On Saturday, Anchor held a “block party.” We sent invitations to over 100 homes on our street and on nearby streets, passed out flyers, and used a big banner out front to invite neighborhood people to a free chicken BBQ meal (Nelson’s pit BBQ!). We also invented students from the Literacy Alliance, a group which meets at Anchor on Monday and Thursday nights to help people obtain their GED. We rented a Moonwalk outside for the kids. We didn’t know how many would come, but it seemed like a good thing to try.

I consider it a huge success. I figure probably 40 people came. I got the chance to sit down and talk to all but two of them (the two in the picture that Pastor Tim is talking to). The people were very appreciative that we would do something like this. Some attended church, some didn’t. We weren’t intending to hit them with the gospel or some hard sell. It was just an chance to get acquainted, and to thank our neighbors for putting up with our very loud concerts (with concert-goers eating up all of the street parking).

I talked to one family yesterday that lived on our street. They had a junior high girl and a high school boy. Seemed like nice folks. This morning, the girl came, by herself, to the 9:00 (early) service. She was sitting by herself at one of our tables in the back of the sanctuary, so when the music was done, I made a point of sitting there with her. I even remembered her name, which is a rather stupendous accomplishment for me.

Perhaps more folks from the block party will trickle in now and then. I talked to two young boys, as they devoured the chicken, asked me when we would do this again. I told him we would probably do it again next year. One of them told me, “I think you should do it” (and he paused to think) “three times a year.” So I guess he liked it.

Well, bummer. Churches are fleeing the part of the city where my church exists. It’s not that there are fewer people in our area. No, these churches just want to make their future in a different part of town. A “better” part, perhaps.

First it was Abundant Life Tabernacle, which wants to buy First Assembly’s building on the north side of town (while First Assembly moves to the old Calvary Temple building). Just heard about that on Sunday. St. Francis University, right across the street from Abundant Life, will buy that property. So that’s one major church exiting our neighborhood.

Tonight I heard that the Wesleyan church, just down the street from us, plans to relocate to the suburbs. The good ol’ suburbs. That’s where it’s at. Forget about all those people living in the inner parts of the city. Sure, they need Christ. But do they have money? No. You can’t build a church on poor people. You need bucks. And the suburbs is where you find bucks. Lawyers, doctors, businessmen–they’re in the suburbs. Those people deep in the city–they’re just a bunch of uneducated, high-maintenance losers. God doesn’t care about them nearly as much as he does the people in the suburbs with nicely-groomed yards.

Yeah, I’m ticked. I’m sure there are all kinds of places like our neighborhood throughout the city. But does anybody think of planting a church in places like that? Not usually. No, you plant a church in the fast-growing suburbs, so you can cherry-pick the middle and upper-middle classes, and maybe land a truly rich person or two. That’s what my denomination has done for about as long as I’ve been around–go to the suburbs–and it seems to be everybody else’s strategy, too. When denominations talk about planting churches in major cities, what they really mean is plant churches in the suburbs. But there’s a whole lot more to cities than rich suburbs. Sure, maybe they plan to have a “mission outreach” into poorer neighborhoods. But to base yourself there? No way.

I’m sure Jesus would go straight to the suburbs, so he could hob-nob with rich people. Forget about the poor and needy. Let them drive to the suburbs. Oh, they don’t have a vehicle? Well, maybe they can take the bus. (Okay, Steve, take a breath, chill.)