Birmingham is a city of churches. Nearly one thousand of them are dotted along city streets and nestled in area neighborhoods. They take the shape of everything from towering cathedrals to one-room storefronts to a mini-mall for saints.
Inside, parishioners sing songs about God’s faithfulness, rock their hips to holy music and then stuff the offering plates so full that on Mondays Birmingham bankers are shouting “Hallelujah” from the deposits.
Parking lots are lined with fleets of shiny, luxury vehicles and church aisles look like catwalks as parishioners sport Gucci and Prada and the like. They host conferences and concerts, have state-of-the-art television ministries, bring in national speakers and publish books. The church, it seems, has got it going on.
At the same time, outside the church walls, Birmingham’s schools are on the verge of collapse, the communities are swelling with fatherless children and the recession has hit like a weapon of mass destruction, tearing through households from Ensley to Inglenook to East Lake.
For the non-churchgoer, it’s been hell, some have said. So, where in hell is Birmingham’s Body of Christ? The church appears to be noticeably absent in many of our neighborhoods, more concerned with being prosperous and popular and ignoring The Great Commission.
We view our lost brothers and sisters with disdain, instead of with the heart of God which is to love and minister to them. We drive into area communities for church service, but after the benediction, the only thing that remains is a plume of exhaust from our vehicles as we quickly drive back to our comfortable homes.
IGNITE A FIRE
As Christians in Birmingham, we have a rich heritage. During the Civil Rights Movement, local ministers stood post like soldiers along area streets, speaking out against injustice and going head-to-head with unrighteous city leaders.
Deacons, elders, Sunday school teachers and mothers-of-the-church cried out for freedom amidst bomb threats and police-sanctioned violence. They pushed past their fears, activated their faith and bombarded heaven with prayers until a change eventually came.
That is their legacy and now it is up to us, the current Body of Christ, to continue in their spirit of courage and humility. We no longer face the threat of segregated laws and a Eugene “Bull” Connor, but our enemies today are the drugs, crime, poverty, and injustice that plague us. Many of Birmingham’s children are held captive by sin, lawlessness is running rampant, and too many families have to go to bed hungry each night. These are our causes as Christians in Birmingham, and we’ve got much to do.
We have the talent, resources and authority by God to drive out the devil and take this city for Jesus Christ. We have the manpower to flood the schools with mentors, the resources to financially support the widows and single-mothers, and the collective voice to call to task the politicians who are not being advocates for justice. We can enact our own brand of “neighborhood watch” with men of the church patrolling our communities and create a fortress of prayer around this city.
Are we up to the task?
Thankfully, there are those who do have a revelation of the Church’s need to do something outside the walls, whose actions are causing the great sleeping giant (the church) to stir and awake from his slumber. With a praying chief Birmingham’s crime rate is dropping; a local church works everyday to transform a community one soul at a time; and a former politician feeds city residents who are hungry physically and spiritually.
THE PRAYING CHIEF
When Chief Roper took the job of Birmingham’s top cop two years ago, he was facing a devil of a challenge. Birmingham was fast becoming known as one of the most violent cities in the nation where bank robberies and execution-style murders were becoming commonplace.
As a veteran cop and military man, he waged an all out war against crime. In the natural, he beefed up police presence in neighborhoods and acquired special crime-fighting technologies, and in the spiritual realm, he put the kingdom of darkness on notice – Don’t mess with the people of Birmingham.
He says as the chief, he is the spiritual authority of the land and often stands at the highest point in Birmingham and prays Isaiah 60:18 over the people: Violence shall no more be heard in thy land, wasting nor destruction within thy borders; but thou shalt call thy walls Salvation, and thy gates Praise.
Roper also assembled a group of intercessors who pray around the clock concerning the city’s crime problem. “They are my secret weapon,” he says. And, every third Saturday, Roper and his officers partner with a different local church to lead a prayer walk throughout the neighborhood.
“It’s not God’s will that young black men die in the streets,” he says. “God has a plan for our lives.”
THE DREAM’S ALIVE
Woodlawn was a neighborhood that many had pretty much written off, as crime and poverty had all be swallowed it up. But the Church of the Highlands saw it as fertile ground for ministry and a place where they could do outreach in a radical way.
They acquired a struggling medical clinic on First Avenue South and revamped an old fire station across the street from Woodlawn High School, calling it The Dream Center. It’s mission is to transform the community through service and love and as a result, turn the hearts of its residents towards God.
Led by Dr. Robert Record, The Dream Center is home to an epicenter for citywide outreach in the Woodlawn community and beyond. The nearby clinic is where Record and his medical staff offer discounted services, as well. Some of the church members have even made a commitment to move into the area to help further spark the revitalization.
Dr. Record says he has been on mission trips around the world, but realized the mission field is right here in Birmingham. Every day, the place is buzzing with community projects, Bible studies, and more.
On the day of The Dream Center’s grand opening, a sea of black, white, and brown church members dressed in gray shirts welcomed the thousands of residents who arrived. Local kids were jubilant at the chance to get free cotton candy and play in the super-sized moonwalk. One man, who appeared to be homeless, embraced a new pair of shoes he was given. He held the box like a newborn baby and had a smile that stretched from ear to ear.
THE PREACHING POLITICIAN
One by one, from professionals to panhandlers, people file into the Carver Theater on the first Thursday of the month. As they enter the building, they are offered a free box lunch and a smile.
Inside the auditorium, a trio of women sings praises to God as several people in the audience lift their hands towards heaven. Then, moments later, former Birmingham City Council President Lee Loder emerges on the stage, not to give a spiel about wanting to be reelected, but telling the attendees how to “Whack the Devil.”
Thankful Thursdays is a 45-minute free luncheon that features praise and worship and a spiritual nugget by Loder. It was created as an outreach ministry to supplement the spiritual needs of persons who work, live and patronize the Birmingham downtown community, he says.
Loder has a vision to continue impacting lives through the Thursday event and this year plans to launch even more outreach initiatives. “I hope that the event will evolve according to God's will,” he says. “His Word says, ‘If I [Christ] be lifted up, I will draw all men [women] unto me’ and his Word also says that it will not ‘return void.’”
After the luncheon, attendees are dismissed and a man wearing a tattered denim jacket and a black wave cap walks out with a big smile. “Yeah, that’s just what they needed,” he says to the crowd of people walking out towards the door. “He lit a fire underneath us and now we’ve got to out and whack that devil.”