Will the Real Church Please Stand Up?

If crisis does not inspire action, what will?

Crisis reveals the deepest truths about human nature.

Our core beliefs are exposed in its presence. Our good intentions crumble in its wake. We come to know ourselves as we truly are — not as we wish to be — when chaos comes calling.

Throughout history, countless men and women have etched their names in eternity by rising to face the chaos of their time.

The compassion of Mother Teresa. The leadership of Martin Luther King. The will of Eisenhower. The courage of Harriet Tubman.

Today, these stories are retold with mythic-like reverence. These are the heroes of old.

The reformer who fought for equality.

The soldier who liberated the concentration camp.

The saint who touched the untouchable.

Our society has enshrined these men and women because they have shown us the way. They are the moral heights we hope to ascend. They — through their selfless actions — have become the standard.

The year was 166 C.E. and the Roman Empire stood on the brink of an unprecedented medical crisis.

Soldiers of the empire had just defeated the Parthian enemies on the Eastern front and were marching back to the capitol. Unbeknown to them, an epidemic was in their midst. Scholars today believe these first century forces carried with them humanities first encounter with smallpox (Yeomans, The Antonine Plague and the Spread of Christianity, 2019).

The resulting pandemic was devastating.

For 23 years, the Antonine Plague ravaged the empire. At its zenith, the plague claimed the lives of as many as 2,000 Romans in a single day. The mortality rate during the course of the plague was as high as 10% of the population (Yeomans, 2019).

Institutionalized healthcare did not exist at this point in history. Medical physicians were available but their steep costs made them unaccessible to the lower class and public at large (Ferngren, A New Era in Roman Healthcare, 2019).

“Beyond offering supplications to the gods for relief, public officials did nothing to prevent the spread of the disease, treat the sick, or even bury the dead…the [Romans] believed that nothing effective could be done in a time of plague other than appeasing the gods” (Ferngren, 2011).

As rotting corpses lined the streets of Carthage during the plague in 250 C.E. and in the face of intense religious persecution from the political ruler Decius, a local Christian leader, Cyprian, decided to take unprecedented action.

“He urged the rich to donate funds and the poor to volunteer their service for relief efforts, making no distinction between believers and [unbelievers]. Under Cyprian’s direction, Christians buried the dead left in the streets and cared for the sick and dying. For five years he stood in the breach, organizing relief efforts, until he was forced into exile”(Ferngren, 2011).

The action taken by this community leader proved monumental. For the first time in history, a community systematically extended healthcare to all — regardless of ethnicity, creed, or sex (Ferngren, 2011). This action however, came at a great personal cost as many contracted the very plague they sought to bring relief to. They paid the ultimate price for their compassion.

Cyprian’s decisive and practical compassion during the pandemic became the new standard for local faith communities responding to crisis.

Two centuries later in Alexandria, Egypt, a church leader organized a group of men from the poorer classes to care for and transport the sick. They risked their lives to provide care for the untouchables of their city.

These men earned the nickname Parabalani.

Roughly translated, it means The Reckless Ones.

The Covid19 crisis has revealed a sobering truth about many American faith communities.

Unlike their predecessors — who extended decisive, practical, and reckless compassion to those in need, often at great personal cost — modern faith communities in the West have overwhelmingly chosen the way of caution.

Widely appealing to wisdom and prudence as an alibi, many churches have shut their doors and cancelled their in-person services at the first sign of danger. At a decisive moment of societal need, faith communities have vanished from the scene.

While the early church rose to prominence by distinguishing itself from the pessimistic actions of their government and fulfilling felt societal needs — healthcare, philanthropy, emergency services — many modern American churches have unquestioningly fallen in step with Washington.

The question followers of Jesus must now ask is as obvious as it is sobering:

If the Church vanishes in the face of crisis, what is the purpose of Her existence?

The Covid19 crisis has unearthed a harsh truth, a truth which many in the faith community must now contend:

There is nothing different about the local Church if we do not act differently when it matters most.

Is it possible there are still communities of faith acting with decisive, practical, and reckless compassion for those in need?

In the wake of shelter in place orders in Los Angeles, The Dream Center is responding to the felt needs of their local community.

This faith-based nonprofit sits above the 101 in LA’s Echo Park neighborhood. For 25 years, ‘The Church that Never Sleeps’ has responded practically to crisis after crisis.

Riots. Earthquakes. Fires. Homelessness. Poverty. Food deserts. Addiction.

Founding Pastors Matthew and Tommy Barnett created a model that is as simple as it is revolutionary: be a church that stays in the neighborhood long enough to have the influence. Find a need and fill it, find a hurt and heal it.

In the mid-90’s, when most churches established home bases in the suburbs, The Dream Center remained in Echo Park, a neighborhood torn by gang violence and poverty.

Now, there are over 700 people living on the campus of the restored Queen of Angels Hospital in one of the centers residential programs for homeless families, veterans, foster youth, and addiction recovery.

Most recently, the Dream Center established an emergency drive thru food bank for people affected by Covid19 in addition to partnering with the LA Housing Authority to provide needed supplies to families in the projects.

Decisive. Practical. Reckless.

At a time when the fear of Covid19 is proving more overwhelming and stress-inducing than the virus itself, perhaps here is an example of a local faith community acting without hesitation to meet the needs of their neighbors.

During a pandemic where wisdom and caution silenced many faith communities in the West, The Dream Center stands as a tangible example for the faith community to follow.