May 29, 2019
“Next year...” I listened to her, hearing for the first time in almost a year a glimmer of hope that there might actually be a future. Exactly 100 years earlier, our forebears in faith laid the cornerstone for the Methodist church building that still stood tall and proud on the corner. We were celebrating our centennial with a neighborhood block party with free food, games, prizes, and music. And hope.
It was a lot of work, but we had other churches pitch in for what may not have been a runaway success, but was pretty good. And this morning I sat with five other pastors, planning a second neighborhood block party designed as a kickoff to a summer-long outreach to the families in central Dunkirk. Every Wednesday evening, we’ll have people in the park with games and activities for the neighborhood kids, doing our best to build relationships with entire families that we might earn their trust enough to be able to share the gospel with them. What began as a celebration of our heritage is being transformed into a celebration of our hope. We looked back, but are now looking forward, shoulder to shoulder with other churches, not to proselytize, but to invite people to Christ. None of us cares which congregation someone might join; our sole concern is making disciples—followers of Jesus Christ, knowing that when people get serious about knowing him, lives, families, and entire communities can be transformed.
Last summer’s spark of hope is being fanned into flame, and I am privileged to have a front row seat, for which I am deeply grateful tonight.
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