The oldest parts of Renovation Community’s building date from 1965. Doors from video #1 hung in that section. The photos and Video #2 shows doors from an early 1970s addition.
Thick paint layers created a peeling, globby mess.
We often couldn’t keep older design elements while slowly renovating our facilities. Either they didn’t fit, weren’t safe, or couldn’t be restored for modern usage. But we’ll keep these doors. [You know how much new commercial solid-core doors with windows cost?! Crazy!]
Renovation Community publicly “launched” October 2018. But in church jargon, we’re technically a “restart.”
The name and identity feel new but our 501c3 is the same one formed in 1964– “Wedgwood Church of the Nazarene.” A couple people in our church family have worshiped at this address since the mid 80s.
Pieces like these doors connect us with our unique church’s 56+ year heritage. They came from children’s classrooms, an old pastor’s office, and our Fellowship Hall (a churchy term from yesteryear).
Through these doors sat: children, now older than me, learning about Jesus; godly pastors meeting with hurting people or preparing sermons; and friends laughing over a shared meal or celebrating at a wedding shower.
These doors may as well be symbols for our church (the building, organization, and the people). They’ve served their purpose well, but all bore various signs of damage. Some needed considerable repair. All had at least 3 coats of paint; some had 4 and 5. We’ve spent hours preparing them for decades of future use.
But once we’re done, they won’t look like freshly-built doors straight from the factory. Instead, they will bear unmistakable marks of ‘old doors made new.’ Glimpses from their past will remain.
In one sense, Jesus works similarly in us. We read in Revelation 21:5 that He’s not making “new things” (i.e. making something from nothing) but making “all things new” (i.e. taking existing things and making them new again) or as I like to say, “renovating.”
Less than 2 weeks after college graduation, I started my first seminary class entitled “Theology of Work.” My arrogance and argumentative personality prevented me from learning all I could have. But two concepts from that class still shape how I pastorally serve financially struggling people: 1) Reciprocal Gift-giving and 2) Modern Gleaning.
Even the most superficial Bible readers cannot miss Scriptural commands to practice Charity— giving to others in need without expecting any form of repayment.
But Scripture also teaches us to help in other ways.
Charity is necessary but unwise Charity can: 1) hurt some recipients’ sense of dignity and self-worth 2) enable laziness and/or an individual’s refusal to fight their impoverishing addictions and 3) rob precious resources from hardworking people who genuinely need them.
So whenever possible, wise care for the poor must be: personalized, holistic, and adjusted to a person’s greatest needs (sometimes different from their immediate needs). That feels like an unrealistic goal for many organizations (much less individuals), which is why we must partner with others.
Buying expensive new replacement doors didn’t seem like good stewardship of finances. It also would have reduced our available funds to help a painter friend who needed and wanted work.
I’m a decent painter, refinisher, and can even run a paint sprayer. I could have done all this myself. But that didn’t seem like good stewardship of a different resource— Time.
Everyone’s Calling from God is different. Mine ISN’T to refinish our church’s doors. And I truly don’t have the time.
I met a friend shortly after I became a pastor in 2013. He’s hit a lot of rough patches in the 8 years I’ve known him. But this summer he FINALLY picked up keys to his new apartment. Unfortunately he lost his wallet and every ID he owned on that same day.
Two steps forward. One major step back.
Replacing a lost ID is relatively easy when you still have others. Just submit alternate proof of identity with your Social Security card, passport, birth certificate, or even a bank statement.
But imagine not having ANY of those.
Or imagine applying for a job and needing to submit legal eligibility to work in the U.S.
My friend could finally write a real mailing address on job applications but now couldn’t provide anything to verify his identity.
How easily could you get a job with no ID, no car, and no experience navigating online job applications?
What if your hands, which faithfully provided your income through manual labor for decades, now betray you with arthritis?
My friend feels like “less of a man” when he’s not working. He proudly refuses Charity and tells me, “I’ll WORK for my pay but I won’t be someone’s Charity Case.”
What if our church and I could give gifts to my friend and receive gifts from him in return?
Then he wouldn’t feel like someone’s Charity Case.
In Leviticus 23:22 God commanded, “’When you reap the harvest of your land, do not reap to the very edges of your field or gather the gleanings of your harvest. Leave them for the poor and for the foreigner residing among you. I am the LORD your God.’”
Unreaped grain meant loss of income or food for the farmer’s family. But it also meant time saved out in the hot fields— more time with family, more time to rest, more time to plan next season’s harvest.
In an ancient Jewish, agrarian, and pedestrian culture, leaving the corners of your field unharvested was one simple way to practice generosity to the less fortunate who walked by your fields. But if you want to honor that idea today, it takes some creativity. I don’t have any grain for the less fortunate to glean.
But I do have some old doors. If I imagine my weekly ministry tasks like a field ready for harvest, these doors have perpetually remained in the field’s distant corners. I never have time to reach them…
With a small-church budget, every dollar saved really does feel like a dollar earned or… “harvested.” But what if, instead of saving every possible dollar and refinishing these doors myself, I left them “unharvested” for someone less fortunate than me? I could save valuable time. And my friend could receive tangible help from our church in exchange for putting in some effort.
We’ve given him transportation, furniture, clothing, housewares, washer/dryer usage for laundry, help making online purchases, help navigating government bureaucracy, technology tutorials, and even a little spending cash.
In return he’s used his skills in numerous ways around our facility, including refinishing these doors.
He’ll begin applying final paint next week. Soon, passersby will again look through these door windows to see children learning about Jesus, pastors meeting with hurting people, and friends celebrating together over food.
If you’re in southwest Fort Worth and need a painter, I know a guy. Stop by to meet him and see his handiwork. 😉