Where the Hell is the Church?

The seven year old boy three doors down just slashed his wrists. Fortunately they found him before he bled to death. He was mad because social services were going to take him and his seven brothers and sisters away from their drug addicted mommy. We fed all the kids cookies, but, Oh God, they need more than that.

Mrs. E came to me crying last Monday. She's afraid that her embittered next door neighbor will seek revenge on her family for having reported him to the police for beating his wife every night. The man is now out of jail and knows who turned him in. She's already been assaulted once (in front of our church while waiting in the food pantry line) and is afraid he'll burn down her house like he did to those other buildings. She asks for prayer 'cause she thinks her brother will soon be killed.

The bastard child S. bears the insults of even the old ladies in the church for being an illegitimate girl and having a "no good" boyfriend. She embarrassed to even say hello to me, a pastor.

E. missed prayer meeting today. I hope it's not because he has relapsed.

Mr. R came over the other day and asked for some food. We gladly took some to him, but I had to turn him down when he wanted cash as well. The poor guy was so high he could hardly keep his eyes on me. I'm not sure if I'd ever seen a high person before, but it's a pathetic sight. Such slavery.

Meanwhile, all the good Christians are out in the suburbs enjoying their lattes from Starbucks and picking out a new plasma-screen HDTV for their second living room. The thought must never occur to them that hell is only a few miles away in the direction of downtown and that God needs warriors to go fight some battles.

Where the hell is the church? And why isn't it here in hell where it should be? The seven year old and Mrs. E and bastard S. and Mr. E and Mr. R need a little bit of Jesus, but there isn't much to go around. 'Cause for some reason the church has left this neighborhood and set up shop elsewhere. I'm sitting here on 12th Street and I feel alone. And I'm mad at the church for not being here for my seven year old friend.

Where the hell are you, church?