It astounds and disheartens me to read all the ways that churches insulate themselves from the brokenness of the world, from the evil that persists and the predatory nature of our national culture right now. From “we don’t talk out loud about politics or that kind of thing” to “we are a family church and want our pastor primarily to engage in community activities like little league games” to “our pastor should visit the sick and preach sermons that help us stay close as a congregational community,” the church is hell-bent, perhaps literally if there is a hell, hell-bent on staying clean of the poison dust of exploitative economic practices and the gear-clogging grime of politics-as-usual.

And we think Jesus told us to do this?

The ministry center I run, UrbanSpirit, used to own a church building. A big, old church building, with, um, issues.

Not the least of the issues were the beasts that constantly set off the motion detectors -- spider webs, a rattling door. My cat Beckett, which is how I came to adopt him. The alarm system also warned of actual intruders. It was these the alarm was intended to guard against. The problem was there were way too many of the other things. In the beginning, the alarm company would call the police, and I would meet them there, sometimes deep into the wee hours, fearful of what we may find. Most times it was nothing, but sometimes it was something. Either way, I was awfully happy the police were willing to be the ones to figure it out.

Eventually, the police department began charging a fee for false alarms…