Nobody Needs a Church Or, Lament of the Ministers

“I’m spiritual but not religious,” they say, and
“I’m not comfortable with institutionalized religion.”
That’s all well and good.
But I get phone calls from strangers hoping I’ll visit a dying father
And emails from strangers requesting prayers.

I’ve seen people crying in the grocery store
And the mall parking lot.
I consider stepping in, but
People say they don’t want ministers these days
And I already have congregants I never visit.
My heart is a wellspring of grief for all I cannot do
And all I cannot serve
And saying no, sometimes, is the only way I can be sure
I can say yes when I need to.

“I’m homebound,” they say, and
“I’m lonely.”
Nobody wants a minister
Until
Suddenly they do.
And nobody wants a church
Until
A loved one is dying or dead and
Suddenly
It would be nice to have someone give the eulogy
And people to bring the casseroles
And friends to sit and cry with.

We need roving gangs of chaplains patrolling the streets
Accompanying the grieving and witnessing the suffering
Answering 24-hour hotlines
And churches staffed with ministers to spare
But
“I’m spiritual but not religious,” they say, and
“I’m not comfortable with institutionalized religion.”
There is little funding for we ministers
We guides
We who companion and mirror and witness the world’s
Pain and suffering and joy

And so
We companion and mirror and witness
Pain and suffering and joy
We see the hurting and yearning and confusion
“Where can I find people to connect with?” they ask, and
“Who can I talk to about my grief?”
“Who will visit my dying father?” and
“Who will pray for me?”
I know the answers to these questions.
Uneasy answers:
It’s hard to make withdrawals when you’ve made no deposits, and
That which we do not nurture dies.