Most Adventist churches were designed by people who never had to wonder whether they belonged.
Think about who sits near the back, or quietly stopped coming. The single woman who hears one more sermon illustration about husbands and kids. The divorced man who isn’t sure he’s still allowed to teach Sabbath School. The young adult with questions nobody wants to hear. Our LGBTQ sons and daughters, who often can’t tell whether they’re welcome at all. The member in a wheelchair looking at the steps up to the platform. The nurse who works Sabbath shifts and feels the looks. The visitor who has no idea what a haystack is or why everyone stood up.
Now imagine planning church with them first. Potluck would have an empty seat saved on purpose. The person with doubts would get a real conversation instead of a pamphlet. The ramp would go in before the new carpet. Someone would explain the haystacks.
Jesus told a story like this. In Luke 14 a man throws a great banquet, and the invited guests send excuses. So he tells his servant, “Go out quickly into the streets and alleys of the town and bring in the poor, the crippled, the blind and the lame.” The people on the edges became the guest list.
Jesus lived it, too. He invited Himself to Zacchaeus’s house while the crowd muttered. His critics complained, “This man welcomes sinners and eats with them.” A church built from the edges in would look a lot like His table. He already set a place for everyone who thought there wasn’t one for them.
Photo: “Man Sitting on a Church Pew” by cottonbro studio, via Pexels. Retouched, recoloured, cropped, text added. https://www.pexels.com/photo/7520769/
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