In the spring of 2021, the elders of the church asked the church who would lead the mission to move the church from inside the walls out into the neighborhood. Six of us raised our hands. We were given three years, access to all of the resources available to the church, and anything we needed to see if there was the possibility that Sunset Ridge could be a flourishing church that existed for the good of the neighborhood. The six of us decided that if our work mattered in the life of a single person, it was good.
In those early days, we were able to track coffee conversations where someone felt less lonely, widows meeting one another and building friendships, dreams of a pizza truck, a neighborhood nature school, or a farmers market coming to life. And one person became eight, then forty, and now more than we can count.
Four of the six of us in that group had the great privilege of attending the Global Flourishing and the Church gathering in Assisi, Italy, last month. We prayed where St. Francis heard the call to restore God’s Church. We shared a meal with pastors from all over the world; we learned from one another, laughed and cried together, and in many languages worshiped God. The experience was one that changed all of us in such a profound way that we’re trying to figure out how to even share it with all of you.
As the leader of this church, I have believed for a long time now that the work of our church would have an impact on the Church as a whole. I believe that is a calling that we have to God’s Kingdom. We regularly get calls from seminaries, churches, and denominational leaders to learn from our experiences at Sunset Ridge. I’ve often found myself trying to foresee what it looks like to be a part of shaping the church, almost in a way that is akin to chasing it. You may have experienced something similar in your life as a response to the Great Commission that Scott preached on Sunday—like you have to go to the ends of the earth to seek the call.
As I sat in the chapel at San Damiano surrounded by brothers and sisters from around the world, my heart knew that the answer was in the small thing right in front of me. The single conversation at One Another Coffee, the eye contact with the new family who braved the church foyer, the connection with the dad who walked his daughter around Charis Park.
That is how we change the world. Because what we do in the small becomes the large. We are all called to do it, to love our neighbors and let that be enough—because what greater gift can we give than love?
In the words of Mother Teresa: We cannot all do great things, but we can all do small things with great love.
May that be our call.
