She marched over to our class line. “You should come over to my line so that we can talk.” I had two highly solid reasons for refusing to comply with her wishes: it was forbidden, and she had bitten me twice on the school bus before today. Rejecting my protests, she grabbed my ankles and attempted to drag me to her line. The gym floor did not offer anything to anchor me to my place. My classmates offered the same assistance as the gym floor. My cries for help went unanswered until a teacher mercifully came to my rescue.

There are many people who have been injured by people who call themselves Christians. Yet we wonder why they protest when we attempt to drag them to church. We may mean well, desiring to give them the life, peace and joy that have been offered to us. Our spiritual walks need thorough examination if we lack this desire. However, we need to work on walking with them- you won’t get exhausted from dragging them, and they will likely find this preferable.

People need to know that your love for them is not contingent upon their church attendance. If they still don’t want to go to a building with a cross on Sundays after you have mowed their lawn six times, keep mowing their lawn. If they curse the first time a church was even constructed, find out where their pain comes from. Show them that you are hurt because they were hurt. Let your actions tell them who the church is.

Nobody needs to go to a specific building to learn about Jesus. No. God help us when the only way for atheists and muslims to know Him is by meeting us where we are at. Our hearts should ache and burn with so much compassion that we bring Jesus to others. Jesus had to go through Samaria to meet a broken woman that would have never set foot in a temple otherwise. And when we take the time to see and hear other people, to walk through their pain with them, we will witness them eagerly shouting, “Go see the God who knows everything I ever did but still loves me!”

There are people who are dying, not to go to church, but to for us to be the church. You can see it in their sighs, tearful eyes and defensive lies. Their isolation is screaming for Jesus. Their divorce and family death beg you to give them a glimpse of our Savior’s love. Are your spiritual eyes seeing their pain? Can you read their hearts? Or is your heart calloused enough to drag them to a building?