Religion, Sex, and Politics

It will come as no surprise to many of you for me to admit that I'm obsessive-compulsive about some things. I remember the comments when we had an early service meeting in the Fellowship Hall: "It doesn't matter how you set up the chairs, because Al is going to move them all before Sunday anyway." I wanted the chairs to be in an arc that allowed worshipers to see each other, to emphasize the "family" feel of our worship gathering, and everyone else seemed to be addicted to straight lines. So, yeah, I moved them every week back into "proper formation."

I believe that little things can make a big difference.

And I ran across a theory - actually 25 years old - that supports my position, and has been proven tremendously effective. It's called the "Broken Windows" theory. It was applied to some of the crime-infested urban areas of our country over two decades ago, with dramatic success. The theory states that little things, like a broken window in a building that doesn't get repaired, like graffiti on the walls of a subway station, like an abandoned car alongside the road, can be the trigger for big problems in a community. These things send a message that nobody cares, nobody is watching, the standards are low here. So criminals feel free to step up their illegal or violent activity. And ordinary citizens find themselves breaking laws because, hey, who cares? Why should I be the only one paying for my subway ride?

So in New York and some other out-of-control cities, they tested this theory. Instead of loading neighborhoods with policemen, they simply cleaned the walls of subway cars and stations. They cleared debris from the streets and beautified the neighborhoods. They tore down abandoned properties. And crime dropped off suddenly and dramatically. The environment we create, or tolerate, sends a message.

I remember many years back, right here at Hillsboro, a new family walked in the door one November Sunday morning. They were not invited or brought by a friend. No one knew them. But there they were. They became active, and our church played a big role in their lives. So I asked, "What caused you to come to Hillsboro?" And the father said, "I work right down the street. I drive by your church on my way to work every day. And, for all these years, I didn't give your church a second thought. It looks like nothing is going on. But I drove by here on the Friday before Halloween, and the church yard was full of people. Teenagers were decorating the trees. People were setting up hay bales. And for the first time I thought, 'Hey, maybe our family would like to be a part of that.'"

All of this makes me think: how many families did we miss during the years when our roof was rusted and in need of replacing - families that looked at the roof and said to themselves, "Those folks don't seem to have very high standards. I can't imagine their ministries are much better." Or what about the years when we desperately needed a new sign in front and down at the intersection with 250? And I could go on.

Could the difference between a family finding life in Christ or not finding it be whether we took the time to trim the hedges? It sounds hard to believe, but I am convinced the answer is YES.

This is also why I obsess over the look and contents of our church newsletter. It sends a message about every other aspect of our church's attitudes and ministries and passion. For most of our community, that newsletter tells them everything they know about our church. I sure don't want them to see any "broken windows" when they look at it. It's within my control, so I insist on excellence.

There are other places in our church's ministries, programs, and facilities that I identify clearly as "broken windows" that are sending the wrong message to the people we want to reach with God's amazing grace. What about you? Do you see some "broken windows"? ...and most importantly, how do we get them repaired quickly?

I invite you to respond to this blog by listing broken windows, and making suggestions about how to fix them as quickly as possible.