Four Ways · Pillar 2 of 4
Meet Enduring Needs
Find out who is hurting, and build something that lasts.
The easiest question a church can ask is, "What do we want to do?" We all have ideas. We all have favorite ministries. But there's a better question, and it's a harder one: "What does our community actually need?"
Ask the uncomfortable questions. Who in your community is struggling the most? Single moms? Senior adults? Families without adequate clothing? People facing housing insecurity? Then ask what your church can actually do about it.
Why the questions are uncomfortable
These questions are uncomfortable for a couple of reasons. First, the answers aren't always pretty. Every town, even a sweet small town, has people quietly hurting behind closed doors. You have to be willing to look.
Second, once you know, you're responsible. It's a whole lot easier to say "somebody ought to do something" when you don't know names and faces. James puts it plainly:
If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, and one of you says to them, "Go in peace, be warmed and filled," without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that? (James 2:15–16)
What good is that? Not much. Kind words are good. Kind words with a coat are better.
Start small. Stay faithful.
Here's where a lot of churches get stuck. They see a big need and they think they need a big building, a big budget, and a big plan before they can start. So they never start.
Don't do that. Start small. Stay faithful. Let the ministry grow as the need and the volunteer base grow.
You don't need everything figured out. You need a real need, a few willing people, and a commitment to keep showing up. Jesus said:
One who is faithful in a very little is also faithful in much. (Luke 16:10)
Faithful in a very little. That's where it begins.
The Clothes Closet
Let me show you what that looks like. It started in a tiny room in the back of the church. It later moved into the abandoned former Levy County Journal building. Today it operates from a large converted NAPA garage and serves roughly 150 people each week across the tri-county area.
Isn't that something? Read that again and notice the order. It didn't start in the NAPA garage. It started in a tiny room in the back of the church. If we had waited until we had the big space, it would never have gotten off the ground. The ministry grew into each new space as the need grew and as the volunteers grew.
Today the Clothes Closet is open two days each week and is run by approximately 27 volunteers. Clothing is given to people who need it. And it has become a visible expression of the church being the hands and feet of Jesus.
That word visible matters. People can see it. They can drive by it. They can walk in the door. It's not a line item in a budget somewhere. It's love you can pick up and take home.
Why "enduring"?
Some needs come and go. A storm blows through and everybody pitches in for a few weeks, and thank the Lord for that. But some needs don't go away. Children keep growing. Seasons keep changing. Families keep running into hard times.
An enduring need calls for an enduring ministry. That means the same days, the same place, and the same faces, week after week, so people know where to find you. When a hurting person can count on you, something starts to change. A ministry that shows up once is an event. A ministry that keeps showing up becomes part of the life of a town.
So ask yourself: is there something your church could do every single week, for years, for somebody who's struggling? That's the question behind this whole pillar.
The hands and feet of Jesus
Jesus told a story about the end of the age, when the King separates the nations. And he says something to the righteous that ought to stop us in our tracks:
And the King will answer them, "Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me." (Matthew 25:40)
When we clothe somebody, we're serving Jesus. Now, we don't do this to earn anything. You bring nothing to the table when it comes to your salvation. Jesus met our deepest need when we couldn't do a thing about it ourselves. He came to us. We serve because we've been served.
And that's what the people in your community need to see. Not a church that talks about love, but a church that hands somebody a warm coat, learns their name, and asks if they can pray with them.
So who is hurting in your town? Ask the uncomfortable questions. Listen to the answers. Start small. Stay faithful. And build something that lasts.