As a Missionary, Your Preferences Mean Nothing

I'll introduce myself. My name is Will Whatley. I'm a student pursuing bachelors' in philosophy and computer science at Auburn University, on the decade plan. I also work as a draftsman at a local surveying company.

Recently, I attended a conference whose purpose is to make people ready to plant churches. I came home to Auburn with a sense of mission I'd never had before. I think it was on offer three or four years ago, and probably before that, at a session of what I'm going to call the Show. (I suppose I just didn't love Jesus enough to give Him all of me.)

The Show is what one shows up for on Sunday morning or evening or Wednesday evening in the United States if one goes to church. (The church here is not the ecclesia Kevin was referring to in this post. It's a building and a performance with a small amount of audience participation. Food may be served.) The Show isn't bad. I consciously chose to follow Jesus Christ at an evening performance in August of 1995. It's just not life and has little to do with it.

But Christ says of himself that he came that men and women may have life-abundant, rich, pure life.

I'd never invite just anyone to the Show. It has some basic requirements beyond most of my friends, beyond most of the people I really like who aren't already regular attendees. There are also some value conflicts I've noticed--which are ok: "the flesh lusteth against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh" after all.

It just seems to me that Jesus required only of folks that they be ready to take whatever the next step toward Him was for them.

I've experienced what seems like a lot of God's gifts*. You can argue, if you're into the whole materialism thing, that since I was born in the States I am eo ipso really well off. What I recall is those people who've made me a part of their lives and who've given up time to love me and build me up.

If I can share some of what I've been given, what I am still receiving, a portion of my purpose will come to pass.

Which brings me back to mission. A quotation from a pretty smart guy (I think his name was Greg) at that conference I went to sort of sums it up:

As a church planter, you are a missionary.

So far so good.

If you are a missionary, you are an amateur missiologist for your target people group.

(Try not to be distracted by the jargon. The next one's the kicker.)

As a missionary, your preferences mean nothing.

As I look at what I do with my passion, my time, my money, and my friends, it occurs to me that rather a lot of what I've been doing has been selfish. Self-centered. Myopic--that's actually a fun one because I am literally a myope.

So I pray you, Almighty, honored and glorious beyond measure or scope: make me like Christ when I rise and when I lay, when I bless and when I curse, when I hate and when I love. Amen.

*What everyone says who's ahead of me on pilgramage: "It keeps getting better." Paul's version of this is here.