I want to speak clearly and faithfully about something important unfolding in our community…the proposed 24/7, low-barrier resource center for our unhoused neighbors.

As followers of Jesus, this is not simply a civic issue for us. It is a discipleship issue.

In the Gospels, Jesus centers his ministry among those who are pushed aside, overlooked, or left out. In Matthew 25, He tells us plainly: “I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me.” And then He makes it unmistakably clear,“just as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me.”

This is not a suggestion. It is not optional. It is the measure of our faithfulness. Jesus does not call us to love in theory. He calls us to love in proximity.

He touched those others avoided. He ate with those others rejected. He consistently moved toward people that society labeled as problems and called them beloved children of God.

We have to ask ourselves: what does it mean to follow Jesus here, in this moment, in this city?

Because the truth is, our unhoused neighbors are already here. Their struggles are already part of our shared life. The question is not whether we will encounter them. The question is how we will respond when we do.

Will we respond with compassion or with distance? With courage or with fear? With faith or with “not in my backyard”?

Let me say this as clearly as I can: “Not in my backyard” cannot be the response of the church. Not for people made in the image of God. Not for those Christ calls “the least of these.” Not for those whom Jesus consistently draws to the center.

To say, “not here” is, in many ways, to say “not near me.” That stands in direct tension with the way of Jesus, who always moves closer, not farther away.

From a United Methodist perspective, this is also deeply rooted in our theology. We believe in prevenient grace, the truth that God is already at work in every person, in every life, before we ever arrive. That means every person who walks through those doors carries the presence and possibility of God with them.

We also believe in social holiness, that our faith is not just personal, but lived out in the way we shape our communities. John Wesley himself insisted that there is no holiness but social holiness. In other words, our love of God must take form in our love of neighbor, especially our most vulnerable neighbor.

This resource center is not a perfect solution. But it is a faithful step. It is a way of saying that people deserve dignity, not just survival. That care should be accessible, not conditional. That our community can choose compassion over convenience.

Yes, there are questions. There always are when we take seriously the call to love boldly. But we do not let questions become an excuse for inaction, or fear become a substitute for faith.

Because at the end of the day, we are not just asking what kind of city we want to be. We are asking what kind of church we will be.

Will we be a people who follow Jesus at a safe distance? Or will we be a people who walk where He walks among the poor, the vulnerable, and the marginalized?

I believe we are called to be that kind of church. A church that does not turn away. A church that does not settle for comfort over compassion. A church that sees Christ in every person and responds accordingly.

This is our moment to live what we say we believe. May we have the courage to do so.

Grace & Peace,

Rev. Jason Morris