Why is it that when you are working in urban contexts it’s so hard to get people to join you? Why do people seem unwilling to join in urban ministry ventures?
In rural settings, it’s relatively easy to get people to come out and build some houses or churches, dig wells, respond to natural disasters, or do relational-level ministry. In urban settings it’s not. People might be willing to throw money at the problem, but they don’t want to get involved at a personal level. Why is that? Is it an unwillingness to sacrifice? The comfort of what’s familiar? A fear of the city? Lack of compassion? Self-centeredness?
The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few. Drive though the city (this can even be done with the doors locked.) Look at the whole harvest and pray for workers. I used to drive through downtown LA through all the side streets in the neighborhoods. Then I’d stop at Tommy’s burgers (not recommended for health reasons, but very tasty) and go eat my meal in the park. I’d see multiple nationalities, people of every description and color and culture. These are the people for whom Jesus died.
Drive through the city and look. What are you feeling? Compassion? Care? Irritation? Judgment? Pay attention to your feelings and pray over them. Ask God to open your eyes to look at the harvest. How can you help? How can you minister to the least of these? What are you doing to come alongside them?
That’s a tough question I really wrestle with. Perhaps one answer is not only to encourage the “little” people to join in with successful people that are making a great impact. We need it to go both ways. How can we come along side those who are trying to start something or make a small impact? This reminds me of Jesus when he fed 5000 with the lunch of a young boy. It is illustrated in this urban legend: The story of a little boy who was taken to a Paderewski concert by his mother. He slipped away from her, made his way to the platform, sat down at the concert piano and began to play Chopsticks. The crowd reacted with anger and said to take the boy away. Paderewski, when he realized what was going on, went to the piano and began playing along with the boy, whispering to him, “Keep going. Don’t quit, son. Keep playing. Don’t stop. Don’t quit.”
This story is made up, but I really like it. It could totally happen.