Over the past year I have described the need for the church to turn "upside-down" if it is to be faithful in a more marginalized role in society. Mission that is "upside-down" connects with those on the margins, rather than its center. We are encouraged to follow the model of Christ who set aside divine status and privilege to take the form of a servant and be humbled to the point of death on a cross.

This is a difficult adjustment for us who have lived for so long at the social centers of power and privilege. We have had the highest per capita income of any U.S. denomination; we have boasted disproportionate representation among the members of Congress and in the White House; we require our ministers to have advanced degrees, often limiting their ranks to those with the means to afford the time and money of graduate study. In an age when the church dwelt in the seats of power and privilege, these were signs of our success.

But our success becomes an impediment for adapting to life on the margins. We have lived so long at the center that Christ's call to abandon status or wealth or privilege and follow him in his path of downward mobility sounds like a foreign tongue. I see this when working with congregations in transition. When asked to envision their future, churches will often do one or more of the following:

What these responses have in common is that they do not require the congregation to change, or to sacrifice, or to surrender their identity as the church at the center. Like the aging silent film star in Sunset Boulevard, the church prefers to live in the illusion of past glory rather than adapt to a new reality. Consequently, we prize and pursue and provide for members with power and privilege while neglecting those of lesser means who might demand time and money with little promise of return, or those of different classes or cultures who aren't just like us, and therefore make us feel uncomfortable.

We cannot be "upside-down" without also being "inside-out" and "sticky." We not only must take the gospel out of the church building and into the community through tangible forms of service, we must also build relationships with those we serve. And you can't do that successfully from a status of privilege. If we truly share the love of Christ, we must love and welcome them as partners, not mere objects of charity. And that requires leaving our world and entering theirs - just as Jesus did in taking on human flesh and dwelling among us.

This week's lectionary reading from James 2:1-10, 14-17 challenges us to do just this. James criticizes his readers for showing favoritism to wealthy visitors over the poor and questions if they truly believe in Jesus - who commands us to love our neighbors as ourselves without distinction. He concludes by telling them to demonstrate their faith by getting "upside-down" and "sticky":

"What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but do not have works? Can faith save you? If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food, and one of you says to them, "Go in peace; keep warm and eat your fill," and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that? So faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead" (2:14-17).