Invitations

The most significant difference between Richard's generation and mine wasn't about clothes or music; it was more about our understanding of the nature of the building. When we moved into the big white building, I saw possibilities. Of course, I saw the building as a space for us to pray, worship, sing, and learn. But also, I saw the building as a means for us to connect with the people of our city and to connect people with God. Moreover, I wanted our people to be set free to take whatever desires God had placed in our hearts and talents He had given us and use this space for His purposes. The three dimensions of this connection were to connect people to God, connect people to each other, and connect others (people outside of the church) with God.

We didn't think this was rocket science. We never claimed to be brilliant strategists. Our formula was simple. We were going to find common ground between ourselves and the people living near the building. We would love people in the neighborhood with God's gifts, talents, and resources. As we loved people and shared our lives and love for Jesus, people would get to know about and experience God's love for them. That's it; nothing more.

And rather than having our leaders come up with the plan, we put the ball in the court of everyone in the community and asked people what they would like to offer. We asked questions like: What excites you? What are you passionate about? What breaks your heart? Let's find this common ground and begin to build relationships. We, as a community, will stand together, support each other, and pray for whatever activity you want. We will do this together. This was our simple plan for both discipleship and evangelism. It was all about connecting our folks with what God was doing and connecting others to the love of God.

One young couple that wandered into our church had recently come to know Jesus. They had moved to our area from Arkansas to go to art school. They were looking for a community of believers to worship with. They dreamed of moving to a small town one day and opening a movie theater. As I got to know them, they shared with me their love for movies and I suggested they consider showing movies here in the church building and inviting people from the neighborhood to come and watch them together. A passion for films was the common ground. Our community would provide the space and support them however we might, but this would be their project. So we set up the church's gym as a make-shift theater. To darken the space, we cut foam rectangles to block the light from pouring in through the gym windows. We found an old popcorn-making machine from a theater that had gone out of business. We set up a table with licorice, chocolate raisins, and Junior Mints. And we placed couches and bean bag chairs in the gym in front of a large screen. We made flyers and chose movies that were kid-friendly. And families came. People who had lived in the neighborhood–people who had driven past the building for years without ever stepping inside–came with their kids. Our desire to build relationships with these folks seemed to be moving in the right direction.

A couple of moms in our community had kids in public school. They attended a seminar for parents and kids designed to help kids make safe choices. The kids and the parents would take the seminar together and discuss the ideas. The moms loved it. I loved the idea. The common ground was a love for kids and our desire to keep kids safe. The event's name was "Kid Safe" or "Kid Smart" or something like that. So again, our community supported their idea. We paid for the woman leading the seminar to come one weekend and do a one-day training. We invited the neighbors, and people came. Our desire to build relationships with the folks in the neighborhood seemed to be moving in the right direction.

One woman in our community had found out that the school district was going through some financial difficulties and was going to be making cutbacks. One of the cutbacks was the elimination of school lunches for kids over the summer. A few from our group had been visiting families in the poorer part of town (literally on the other side of the railroad tracks). Some of these children needed those calories over the summer break. So she asked our community to help her acquire food from the local food bank and distribute it to some local families. She called this ministry "Hearts and Hands ."The common ground was a desire to see kids live healthy lives. The food bank would deliver food to the church (for free) if we created a storage space that was safe and dry and rodent free. Most of the people in our group were on board with the idea immediately–especially a few teachers and nurses.

I set up a time to meet with Richard and pitch the idea of providing food for some of the poorest families in our town. I knew this would be a big ask. After all, we were guests in this space, and his group had never done anything like this. Moreover, he would have to get approval from the church council and I expected that to be a challenge because they seemed to dislike change. Our very presence in the building was already a huge change. But this was about helping children, and who could say no to helping children? Unfortunately, I had misread the situation entirely.