In the late 1840s, a man named Mathew found gold in a pool of water in the Sierra foothills not far from where I now live. This launched what has come to be known as the California gold rush. By the end of the following year, the population of non-native people in the state grew one hundredfold. People set out from the east coast because they heard of the discovery of gold. They left loved ones and the safety of familiar surroundings to set out on a journey that was filled with danger. Some took the 18000-mile journey around cape horn and–the ones not lost to those dangerous waters–arrived in San Francisco harbor. Others carefully placed whatever belongings they might fit into a wagon and, with horse or oxen, pulled their worldly possession across plains and over mountains and through rivers to get to this land of precious metal and new hope.

I wonder what people took on this journey. Whatever they chose to fit in the limited space of a covered wagon had to seem to them most important. They took the things that were essential for survival and whatever they might need to start life anew. Tools, seeds, clothes, firearms; whatever they believed they might need to succeed in a new land. Choosing wisely and carefully might have been the difference between those who survived and those who did not. I doubt people bothered to take color televisions or laptop computers.

This was one of the illustrations I used to share about how we would begin the journey. Yes, we were searching for new modes of worship. In this sense, we would become pioneers. And yes, the gold we sought was to reach a different group of people and share the gospel differently and worship differently. At that time, this illustration was first of all about how we would start out on this journey. We would not teleport to a new location and do things completely differently from the first day onward. Rather, we would set out from where we were and with what we knew. The fifteen or so people who started with us were all people who had been following Christ for at least a decade or two. We were comfortable doing thingsaprticular way. Nevertheless, we would adapt and change as the landscape (both social and cultural) presented itself, and as we found our way to a new place. We knew changes would come, but they would come over time and incrementally.

This story–this parable–seemed to make sense to me at the time. I'm not at all sure I would encourage others to use it today. Although our mission was to reach people who would not find their way to existing forms of church, we agreed to start where we were and make changes along the way. But now, looking back, I realize the more important question in this story is what are the essential things any such group of pioneers should take, and what forms or traditions might be left behind?