An unreasonable venture

Next Monday, I fly to Illinois for the 24th time in two years. I will arrive at Hartsfield Jackson Airport in Atlanta around 7 a.m., deposit my car in the Park & Ride, catch a shuttle to the terminal, and do all the things one must do to get on an aircraft in a post 9/11 world.

Several hours later, I will arrive in Bloomington, rent a car , drive the hour to Champaign County and check in at the Senator’s Inn in Savoy.

Monday evening, I will greet the folks of Christ the King mission. We will sing songs of praise and worship (while I will lead on our mission’s only instrument — my guitar), I will lead them through the liturgy, will preach, and will administer the sacrament of Holy Communion. We will pray for any needs present, anointing with oil any who are sick, share stories of what God has done since we last gathered, and go eat dinner together. This coming Monday will be the second anniversary of our venture.

It wasn’t that many years ago that I would have declined to be involved in the planting of a mission so far away. We actually began this rather unreasonable venture with two ladies who needed pastoral care. After prayer, it seemed that the thing to do was to go to Illinois. So that is what we did. It has been and continues to be an exciting endeavor.

Some would say that investing all this time and energy is truly unreasonable. And it is true that, by contemporary standards and models of church planting and church growth, it doesn’t seem reasonable or feasible to do what we did and continue to do; but it does seem just like what God would do. He would leave the 99 and go in search of the one.

Over the two years, I have seen a great deal of change in the lives of the people involved and I have experienced change in my own life.

There was a time when I was too busy, too important, too proud to travel great distances for a handful of people. But that was before I began to learn more about priesthood and being a “father” in God’s Kingdom.

CEOs spend their time with the influential, the powerful, and the wealthy. Fathers spend their time with the children. Professionals are concerned with the product, the company, the bottom line. Shepherds are concerned with the sheep.

I entered the ministry over 35 years ago. Somewhere along the way, I became a father and a shepherd. Twenty-eight days a month, I am a father and shepherd in Georgia. Two days, and sometimes more, during a month, I am a father and shepherd in Illinois. Actually, with cell phones, email, and the reality of prayer, I am father and shepherd to both congregations every day of the month and carry them all in my heart continually.

Last year, my priestly and fatherly ministry was expanded when I was elected a bishop to serve our people in Georgia and Tennessee. Like most fathers, I often feel inadequate to live out my role and worry that my example or my words will lead people down the wrong road. That’s when I have to remind myself that God calls flawed and imperfect people to do their best and trust Him in faith for the rest.

We have had, at most, 16 people who meet together in Savoy, Ill., but numbers have never been the point. The scriptures promise that “where two or three are gathered together in My Name, there I am in the midst of them.” That is the point and we have found it to be true, both in Georgia and in Illinois.

I don’t know what all God will do with the church in Savoy (there has actually been talk of their planting a sister church in Quincy, over three hours to the west). This Monday evening, however, we will celebrate the second anniversary of Christ the King in Illinois. What a celebration it will be!

God will be present, however unreasonable that may seem.