Where would you had Christ crucified?

A friend of mine passed away. Worse, he committed suicide. Through an interesting set of “co-incidences”, the memorial was held in the church building where we met. This church building is where an inner city mission works from. When we were both much younger, we were both involved with the work of the mission.

This building is build on ground that was an old Johannesburg rubbish dump. Maybe if you read the quote at the end, you’ll understand the significance.

Recently, I left my congregation.

Why are these two related? Because of what I experienced at the mission, I could not be satisfied with life in that particular church.

Sitting in the building before and during the service, I could not help thinking about all of this.

Inner city mission has forever spoiled me for Christians, “standing in the hospitality ministry”, while setting the cups for tea, gossips about and slanders a person, who did “not do her part”. Nevermind that this person is going through hell in her marriage. Dishing up cold drink for kids is apparently more important than a sister suffering through serious problems.

I could no longer continue drinking coffee and tea from white Constantia porcelain cups, eating good brand biscuits, while a couple in the church does not have food in their home. I long for watery soup, or no name brand coffee in polystyrene cups, served with past sell-by-date bread donated by a chain store.

I long to walk streets, carefully watching where I go, the smell of Jeyes fluid, drifting on the air from the alleys. To be with Christians, who care two hoots about your salary, your car that you drive, how clean the car is, your weight, your qualifications, your address, your clothes, tatoos or face/navel/toe metal. Where one can use the gifts God has given you, where you can care and love with the love of God. And its OK to care about a hobo, a street child, a broken person. Where money and qualifications are not in the way of being open and transparent.

I desperately want to be where people from the gutters of life come to God, because His love is shared. Where what people say and do, are mirrors of God’s unconditional love. People who do not need to put fish decals on their cars, and need not wear WWJD bracelets. People who know what God’s grace mean and imply.

My late friend had many problems in his life. The time at the mission, was the one time in his life that he was happy. The pastor held a wonderful service. No judgement, only God’s love and grace being emphasised.

The quote underneath is from a book, written by TL Osborn.

“Let the cross be raised again at the center of the market place, as well as the steeple of the church.

Jesus was not crucified in a cathedral between two candles, but on a cross between two thieves – on the town heap, at the cross roads – so cosmopolitan that they had to write His title in Hebrew and Latin and Greek.

The Son of God was crucified at the kind of place where cynics talk smut, where thieves curse, and where soldiers gamble.

Because that is where Christ died, and since that is what He died about, that is where Christians can best share His message of love because that is what real Christianity is all about.”