Last Sunday, while we were in Winnipeg, we were invited to a reunion of sorts.
Lauralea and I pastored a church plant in Winnipeg for a number of years, the Richmond Gospel Fellowship. It was a small group of hard working people, who wanted a place to worship God together, in the South end of the city. When we came, we came to a group of about 18ish people.
We worked hard to establish that church. I don't think there was much we didn't do to reach our community with Jesus love and care. But it was hard work. Over the years we reached the dizzying heights of 50, 60, 70, people. Occasionally 80 or 90 would come, but mostly the group remained around 60.
We never owned a building, we never had a huge budget. We used our money in different ways, and we tried to be ok with that. I don't think our parent churches or maybe even our conference ever understood that whole thinking.
But, they grew tired of doing so much. A while after Lauralea and I left, they brought in another pastor to help them out. He didn't last long. Then, after becoming even more tired and discouraged, they decided to close down. Which they did.
Last Sunday, about 60 people made it out to the reunion BBQ. We had a blast, it was so good to see them again. Others phoned to express their desire to come, but they couldn't be there.
A number of them talked with me privately, asking one of life's great questions, "Had they failed?"
Did we fail to do whatever it was we were suppose to do?
I thought for a moment, then started to list off the names of the people, many standing right there, who had found God through our work. I began to list off those who had been physically healed, as a result of God, and our prayers. I recalled the thousands who were fed because our foodbank had been in operation. I looked at the young people who grew up so well, mainly because we couldn't get a youth group going, but our youth had adult friends in the church who watched out for them and loved them, investing in their lives. I recounted the single moms who needed care and got it. The people who moved in from India without a friend, till they found us. The caretakers at the school we rented who we grew to love so that they became a part of things. Then I thought about the children of those who found God through our work. How they too had found God through their parents and their children were serving God too.
Had we failed?
Well, we failed to have our own building. We failed to have a multiple staff, and a very large budget. We also failed to attract other christians to change from their churches to ours, mainly because we failed at the other items. We failed to live to the ripe old age of 50, or a Hundred years. Sometimes we failed to be honest with one another, but in a small group, it's very difficult to hide your personal struggles. And most people knew them anyway.
We failed to plant a church in the "Normal" way, with a building etc. And we failed the expectations of our parent churches.
But, we never failed to
BE the church.
We were a church in ways those who believe a building is a church will never understand. We were not a building. We were not a meeting at 11am, Sunday mornings. We were a people, gathered in Jesus name.
And I told them what I truly believe, that we succeeded at being a church. That our time spent being RGF was an opportunity that rarely comes along twice in a lifetime. And that it was a joy and blessing being a church with them.
I realized again just how precious it is to me, just to
be the church.
No, RGF was not a failure, but a blessing. A Church.