When faced with significant material need in our communities, churches naturally want to respond. We organise food parcels, provide warm spaces and help people through moments of crisis in a multitude of ways. These acts of compassion matter deeply. They meet real needs and demonstrate something of God’s generous love.
But how do we ensure our compassion ministries do not stop there? How can these forms of practical care lead to genuine relationships in which people are known, valued and given opportunities to encounter Jesus?
My family and I have lived on an estate in North Liverpool for the last thirteen years. It is a community that by all measures experiences considerable deprivation, but that is not the whole story. The people here are friendly, generous and loyal, with a fantastic sense of humour. There are many individuals and organisations working hard to make life better for their neighbours.
It is a privilege to call this place our home. Our children attend local schools; we have both worked and volunteered in the area and, over many years, we have sought to build deep relationships. As Paul wrote to the Thessalonians, we have resolved to share “not only the gospel of God but our lives as well” (1 Thessalonians 2:8) with the people who live here.
This long-term presence has shaped both our understanding and approach to mission. It has helped us see that people here are not simply projects and our community is not just a collection of needs. It has revealed the limitations of compassion offered from a distance, where we can meet someone’s material need without knowing their name, hearing their story or recognising the gifts they might offer to our community. The food parcel may be needed, but something important is missed if the relationship ends there.
It has helped us see that people here are not simply projects and our community is not just a collection of needs.”
Over time, we have begun to move from offering charity towards building solidarity. Charity can unintentionally divide people into those who have something to give and those who only receive. Solidarity recognises that we need one another and that everyone has something to contribute.
We have learnt this through a simple change in our approach to volunteering. Previously, there was an expectation that someone needed to be a Christian, belong to the church and live in a particular way before they could participate in our activities. If I’m honest, we saw mission as something we did ’to’ people and ‘for’ our community.
But people from our estate began expressing a desire to serve alongside us. They did not want just to receive our help; they wanted to play their part in helping others. As we made room for them to contribute and even shape our activity, mission became something we did together.
What happened next surprised us. Friendships developed as we worked alongside one another. We shared our lives and our faith naturally, rather than treating evangelism as a separate activity bolted on to the end of a project. In serving others, people began to experience something of the significance of the gospel for themselves. People started both exploring their faith and coming to know Jesus.
In a sense, discipleship had begun before conversion. As people were participating in acts that reflected God’s kingdom, they were discovering the God who is at work in this place, whose mission they had already joined in with.
Charity can unintentionally divide people into those who have something to give and those who only receive.”
Whatever form our compassion ministry takes, we need to create space for more than a transactional approach. Practical help may be where a relationship begins, but it must not be where it ends. People should be given opportunities to contribute, exercise choice and retain their dignity, rather than being defined by what they lack.
This approach requires patience. It cannot be rushed or measured only by attendance figures. It grows as churches remain present, listen to their communities and create ways for people to actively contribute rather than only receive.
Perhaps a good question for us to ask of our compassion ministries is not, “What can we provide?” but, “What kind of community are we building?” Are we creating services that people access and leave, or places where they can belong? Are we only meeting needs, or recognising gifts? Are we speaking about Jesus while also sharing our lives?
When practical care, genuine relationship and the good news of Jesus come together, compassion ministries become more than a service we offer. They become a shared life in which all of us can give, receive and be transformed by encountering Christ.
