The Missional Church

We've been talking a lot lately about what it means to be a "missional church" here at Blacknall Presbyterian. I don't know if I could give you a decent description of what that really means, but a couple of weeks ago, I'm pretty sure I caught a glimpse.

It is probably the inner nerd in me popping out, but I have always been somewhat addicted to the front row. Whether I'm in school, church, or even a movie theater, I am pretty committed to being as close as possible to the front. I don't know if secretly I think that the closer that I am, the better I will be able to process or enjoy whatever is being shared...that somehow there is a better connection born out of proximity. Or if it just feels wrong relationally to be seated further back. In any case, we have ended up in the second row at Blacknall most Sunday mornings, which gives us a pretty good view of the pulpit.

One Sunday, our associate pastor was preaching on this whole topic of going forth from the church, engaging our communities and in general "being missional" where ever we are. As I thought about this challenge, I glanced over at Louisa. (She has just graduated into third grade and thus out of children's church age range. She is "big enough" now to sit through the entire morning service without too much wiggling.) This particular morning she was completely engaged in what Abe's dad was saying. I took a quick look up at Dave in the pulpit and noticed that sitting right in front of Louisa were two of the spiritual pillars of our church. A godly couple who are deeply devoted to Jesus, to prayer and to a vibrant relationship with Him. Gloria laid hands on and prayed for Louisa at her baptism. Jack was the elder up front with our pastor when she was baptised. I don't really have the words to describe what I felt or saw... but somehow there was this intricate web as Dave preached about "going forth" to Louisa as she sat between and behind Gloria and Jack. Dave preaching to her, through them. A missionary kid who went forth from Blacknall to Africa as a 2 month old, listening and looking through them, back up at Dave.

I know that Louisa misses her African home and friends. I have held her and rocked her as she cries when the sorrow becomes too much. How thankful I am that Louisa LOVES Blacknall. I am so appreciative to be in a church that values not only the going forth, but the coming back. She feels the bond of home and family here, from this church who supported her, loved her and prayed for her during her 8 years on the mission field and has now welcomed her (and the rest of us) back with open arms. And now she runs down the halls here, giggling with her girlfriends, sitting in Sunday School, or eating in the fellowship hall on Wednesday nights learning more each week about Jesus and His church. Learning more about who she is and who she wants to become.

So that morning, a couple of Sundays ago, the picture of the word going out to my child, through the loving community of believers, and her focused attention as one who has gone forth being reflected back through them to the pulpit brought tears to my eyes. While I would have a hard time describing how to be missional, I do know that on this particular Sunday morning it felt as natural as breathing... the going out and the coming back all wrapped up in the love and support of the body of Christ.