A pastor friend recently sent me a powerful video. In it, the speaker delivered a piercing truth: “We talk about reaching the unreached… we preach to the preached. We bless the blessed. We convert the converted, and we baptize the baptized. We comfort the comforted but we neglect the neglected.”
He went on to lament how most of the Church’s resources – our time, energy, and funds – are focused inward, centered mostly on ourselves. Then came a question that hit me like a thunderclap: Who will take care of those outside the faith?
As a pastor, that wasn’t easy to hear. It wasn’t an accusation – it was a prophetic cry. Not meant to wound, but to awaken. That one question stirred a deeper reflection in me: Where are our church resources – our time, money, manpower, infrastructure, creativity, and talents – really going?
The Inward Drift of Ministry
Across the globe – especially where churches are well-established – a concerning pattern has emerged: most ministry activity revolves around those already reached. We build bigger sanctuaries, host repeated seminars, and organize programs tailored to believers. We invest in branding, lighting, and performance – all for people already inside the fold.
None of this is inherently wrong. God deserves excellence. His people need nurturing. But when the majority of our resources serve the already saved – when the ninety-nine are given every comfort while the one is left wandering – we must pause and ask: Have we misunderstood our mission – or merely made peace with our comfort?
This kind of drift doesn’t happen overnight. It starts subtly – with good intentions. A little more budget for comfort, a few more events to entertain the familiar crowd, one more retreat just for the core group. Soon, without realizing it, our calendars, budgets, and hearts are consumed by internal concerns.
But the words of Amos ring loudly even today: “I hate, I despise your religious festivals; your assemblies are a stench to me… But let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream!” (Amos 5:21, 24)
When our songs grow louder while our streets grow darker, something has gone terribly wrong.
Following the Master’s Model
Jesus didn’t remain in the synagogue. He touched lepers, dined with tax collectors, healed the demon-possessed, defended the outcast, and welcomed the rejected. He said: “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.” (Luke 5:31–32)
Jesus walked into dark places and trained His followers to do the same. His model was clear: Go to the broken. Reach the unreached. Love the unloved. Bring light into darkness.
He did not call us to make disciples who sit, but disciples who are sent. The early church understood this. They didn’t stay in Jerusalem to maintain momentum – they scattered and shared the Gospel through suffering, persecution, and bold obedience (Acts 8:1–4).
If we are truly following Jesus, we must ask: Are our churches reflecting His pattern – or only His name?
Measuring Success by the Wrong Standards
In today’s church culture, success is often measured by size: more attendance, more views, more tithes, more programs. But size does not equal obedience. Excellence does not guarantee faithfulness.
In fact, sometimes excellence in production can hide spiritual emptiness. We may have performance-level choirs, digital perfection, and soundproof auditoriums – but if the poor are not loved, if the lost are not found, and if the broken remain untouched, we’ve missed the heart of the Gospel.
Have we confused dynamic delivery with mission effectiveness? Have we become performers on a stage instead of shepherds in the field?
Jesus rebuked the religious leaders for their public shows of piety while neglecting justice, mercy, and faithfulness (Matthew 23:23–28). That warning still stands.
A true shepherd doesn’t just feed the flock – he goes after the one who is lost. We must never forget this pastoral principle: The health of a church is not just measured by its seating capacity, but by its sending capacity.
Where Are Our Resources Going?
Let’s take an honest look:
1. Buildings. We invest crores of rupees in infrastructure – air-conditioned halls, sound systems, media centers, church kitchens. But how many of these serve the poor or extend the Gospel to the unreached?
2. Church Programs. We spend countless hours planning worship concerts, retreats, and internal seminars. But are we equipping believers to live missionally outside the sanctuary?
3. Salaries and Maintenance. Budgets often prioritize staff salaries and property upkeep, while mission, outreach, and community transformation remain under-resourced.
4. Outreach. In many churches, true outreach – especially to people of other faiths or marginalized communities – receives less than 10% of the total budget. We must ask: Does our spending reflect our stated mission?
Internal growth and discipleship are vital. But discipleship without mission is incomplete. Jesus said: “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.” (Matthew 4:19). If our following doesn’t lead to “fishers of men” – are we truly following?
A Story of Redirection
Sometimes I imagine, if for once our churches decide to forgo our annual Christmas celebration banquet. Instead, we used the entire budget – modest though it was – to provide blankets, rice, and take the Gospel message to a nearby tribal village untouched by the church. That simple act opened doors for long-term relationships, home visits, and eventually a new house fellowship in that community.
The joy that comes from seeing unreached people responding to the love of Christ far exceeds the joy of another decorated banquet hall. That is the kind of reimagining we need today.
Just recently, a group of Naga Pastors from Shillong conducted a youth spiritual camp in a rural village between Assam and Meghalaya surrounded by people of other faiths. The village had more than a hundred young people who had no such opportunities for many years. The pastors rode their own two-wheelers and managed the entire expense from their own pockets. Meals and snacks were covered by love offerings from families and friends in Nagaland.
That camp did not make headlines. But heaven noticed. And lives were touched.
The Neglected Neighbors
While we focus on internal growth, here’s what’s happening around us: many people in our cities still haven’t heard the Gospel clearly; many children grow up without love, nutrition, or hope; many widows, orphans, and refugees long for community; prisoners and addicts cry out for redemption; marginalized tribes remain unreached.
And these are not faraway statistics – they are our literal neighbors. Mission is not just overseas; it is also over the fence. Who will reach them if we don’t? Who will speak the truth if our sermons stay trapped behind walls?
A Church for the Found or the Lost?
It’s easy to become a church that serves only the found. It’s safe, predictable, and comfortable.
But the early Church wasn’t known for safety – it was known for radical love, bold generosity, and outward movement. They broke barriers, gave sacrificially, and suffered for the sake of the Gospel (Acts 4:32–35, Acts 10, Acts 13).
Today, many churches are more famous for stage design than street mission. Excellence is not the enemy – but excellence without obedience is empty.
Let us not become a museum for the already-reached. Let us become a mission base for those yet to be touched.
When the Master Returns
Imagine Jesus walking into our churches today. He sees the polished floors, the schedules, the bulletins, the social media feeds. Then He asks: “Did you feed the hungry? Did you visit the prisoner? Did you clothe the naked? Did you welcome the stranger?” (Matthew 25:35–36)
What will we say? Will we show Him our archives and sermons? Or will we tell stories of transformed lives, Gospel encounters in dark places, restored dignity, and hope among the lost?
He will not ask about attendance charts. He will look for obedience, compassion, and the “least of these” we touched in His name. He will not review our liturgy schedules or AV quality – but the lives we reached beyond our walls.
Reimagining Church Investment
Every local church should regularly ask:
(i). How much of our budget serves the lost, the poor, and the unreached? (ii). How many of our programs engage people outside the faith?
(iii). Are we training believers to live missionally in workplaces, families and neighborhoods?
(iv). Do our churches make room for addicts, refugees, single parents, and mentally ill people to encounter Jesus?
(v). Is our mission field only across the ocean – or also across the street?
A Call to Realignment
This isn’t a call to guilt – it’s a call to course correction. The Church is still God’s chosen instrument for transforming the world. But like a ship slightly off course, we must regularly check our direction.
Revival won’t come through better stage design. It will come through deeper obedience. Transformation won’t happen through more meetings – but through love that leaves the building.
Let us commit to praying for the lost with the same urgency we pray for our children; giving toward missions and outreach with the same joy we give toward comfort and maintenance; welcoming the broken with the same dignity we show the well-dressed; training disciples not only to stay – but to go; and serving those beyond our membership – not as a side project, but as a core calling.
Let us never forget the Good Shepherd who left the ninety-nine to find the one. Let us remember the Host of the great banquet who said: “Go out quickly into the streets and alleys… bring in the poor, the crippled, the blind, and the lame.” (Luke 14:21)
Conclusion
If Jesus walked into our churches today and asked, “Where are the resources I gave you?” what would we say?
Let us be found faithful – not only in preaching to the preached, but in reaching the unreached. Let our buildings echo not just with songs, but with testimonies of transformation. Let our budgets reflect not just internal comfort, but eternal consequence. Let our ministries not only gather the saved – but go after the lost.
May the Church once again become what Christ intended it to be: A light in the darkness. A refuge for the weary. A beacon of hope for the world.
~ Meyu Changkiri
