Jesus calls us to a primary, alternative community.

As a pastor and now as a counselor, I have been troubled with the difficulty Christians seem to have with wounded people. I have brought people to church and seen them welcomed warmly, only to have them come back later feeling utterly rejected. It was as though, when the newcomer began to share his or her pain, the church seemed to back off in retreat. At the same time, the strong or relatively whole people seem to have little or no trouble integrating. Why is that?

It may simply be a human characteristic. We all find ourselves more attracted to those able to give as well as receive. We become more guarded when we encounter people who appear to be a handful. And when we meet wounded people, we find ourselves withdrawing because we realize they need more than we can give. We fear they will drain us, use us up. There is truth in such a perception. We do need to develop clear boundaries in our caring and not let wounded people dominate our lives.

Our contemporary evangelical model of church is partly to blame. We tend to be communities “of the strong, by the strong and for the strong.” Most congregations do not have a strategy or plan for dealing with hurting people. Perhaps we assume conversion or education in the Scriptures will sort out all human pain. But the evangelical church has embraced a military model of church that is fundamentally inadequate and causes us to fail in our efforts to be the body of Christ.

An army is based on three basic tasks: recruiting, training and deploying. If any nation is to have a strong military, it must be able to recruit an adequate number of soldiers. During the Vietnam War, America initiated a draft because it could not recruit enough voluntary soldiers to fight such a conflict. Recruiting potential soldiers is a problem in peacetime, too, because those who enlist tend to be unemployed or from poor families or minority social groups. Such people might make good foot soldiers and “cannon fodder” but don’t tend to make good leaders. Recruiting the right kind of soldier is the first task of building a solid military.

To shape a recruit into a soldier also requires extensive training and preparation. There is usually a kind of shock physical conditioning and discipline that focuses on obedience and fitness. A soldier is recruited and trained with the end goal of becoming a soldier who can fight effectively. The soldier must be in top physical condition to fight in difficult situations.

They need to be conditioned to obey orders in the most traumatic situations without question—even if their life is on the line. Training recruits to be true soldiers is the second task of building a solid military.

Recruiting the right people and training them thoroughly is pointless if the soldiers are not deployed to the conflict. Soldiers need to be in the area of conflict with the right weapons and all the logistics to allow them to fight effectively. Without proper weapons, food, clothing or shelter, the army will never be able to win the war, even if they have the best-trained soldiers.

This is largely our contemporary model of church. And in many ways it works. Evangelism is like recruitment, discipleship is like basic training, and mission is like deployment. The problem with this model is not in what it does but what it doesn’t do. It doesn’t provide for the wounded and infirm.

In the military, there is no place for the physically or emotionally infirm. They do not make good soldiers. They would never pass the physical requirements. And if a soldier is wounded in action, they are treated in a field hospital, but ultimately, if their wounds are serious, they are sent back home and discharged from active duty. At some point, the burden of care for the wounded falls on the greater society.

Here is where the model breaks down. If the church is an army, what happens to the wounded and infirm? What “greater society” are they sent back to? Who cares for them if they are no longer fit for ministry, cannot give out and must instead be cared for? Often the answer is no one. This model makes no provision for such a need. Whether it is the missionary returning from the field broken and spent from efforts at cross-cultural communication and isolation, or the emotionally traumatized adult who moves to Christ but brings an ongoing struggle to find healing from wounds, our model of church is ill-equipped to address these needs.

We prefer to avoid such responsibility. We’d rather have broken missionaries care for themselves, and we’d rather not recruit the traumatized into the kingdom.

The only other model brought up in some evangelical circles is the hospital. But the church isn’t a hospital either. If all we did was care for the wounded, where would mission happen?

A church modeled after a hospital emphasizes caring for the wounded and hurting but not on evangelism and social engagement.

If we are not to be an army or a hospital, what are we to be? We might try the model Jesus suggested—a kingdom or a society. I have used the words primary, alternative community. We need to be an alternative to the contemporary society. We cannot be simply a spiritual organization within a given society. Neither should we see ourselves as simply bringing our nation “back to God.” We need to be an alternative that humanizes life by its very character.

We need to explore and model ways of living together that are loving, healing and life-giving.

The church needs to be the society where the wounded can return and be welcomed, honored and cared for.

How do evangelism, discipleship and mission look if they do not emerge from a military model of church? Evangelism should focus less on eternity and more on a change of allegiance or citizenship. Discipleship should focus on skills of living in loving relationships (rather than simply Bible reading and prayer). And mission should be about communicating the Good News of the kingdom—a vision of transformation of culture in which Jesus Christ is truly Lord—rather than getting people to heaven.

Eighty years ago, my father was given a ticket to emigrate from Germany to the United States. He left a society between two world wars. He had only four years of education and would not have the opportunity for more. After arriving in the United States at age 21, he went to night school, received a high school diploma and became a U.S. citizen. Then he went on to university, receiving a bachelor’s degree, a master’s and a doctorate. Eventually he became vice president of a liberal arts college. His younger brother was left behind and drafted into the Nazi army. He became a prisoner of war and nearly died of disease and starvation. The difference was a ticket.

My father did not exchange one army for another. He exchanged one kingdom for another. And that exchange was life changing. Jesus said that without a new birth, we cannot begin to see the kingdom. Without a ticket, my father could never have come to the United States. But having received it, he was able to change his allegiance and citizenship—something that changed his life and future. Can we make such an exchange possible for the broken and wounded of our world? We can and we must.

Wally Fahrer has been working since 1998 as a Christian counselor in England, based in Horsham.