The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood. -John 1:14 MSG

Moving into a new neighbourhood is a time filled with intense, mixed emotions. There are new roads, trails, and parks to learn. The first weeks are filled with the stress of rearranging a new home, settling into a new area, and forming new routines. Compounded by a whole new ecosystem of relationships, there is a lot that can go wrong – and so much opportunity to go right.

As humans, we’re not singularly thinking about the new, but also grieving the old; The familiar creaks of an old home, the neighbours that we called friends (or enemies). To this day, over 20 years after leaving my childhood home, I can virtually walk through every inch of the place, and still have a mental map of the whole, sprawling prairie subdivision as vivid in my mind as the day we left.

The new gives us a chance to start fresh. Relationships that soured over time are no longer barriers, and we have a chance to put a brave new step forward. There are new people to meet, new stories to learn, and a whole complex web of relationship dynamics to enter into.

Often, the significance of the God of the universe becoming human often washes over us as a simple matter of fact. The one who created the universe, who spoke the stars and the planets into being wearing a pair of old, crusty sandals and walking the countryside. Who invited the lame to stand and walk, stooped down into the dirt to make a poultice for the blind, and who flipped tables in the Temple cared enough about each person he met to show us a compassionate, loving God.

Now we’re invited into that family. We’re empowered to start to live in the same way Jesus did.

Perhaps you read that last sentence and your mind jumped to walking on water, raising the dead, or casting out demons. Remember that Jesus spent a significant amount of time walking the countryside with others, sitting around dinner tables, waiting for people beside wells. The majority of his ministry was spent in the ordinary, and it was the ordinary that reinforced the supernatural. When Peter declared that Jesus was the Messiah, the son of the Living God, it was informed by the countless kilometers of walking they did together, not only by the miracles.

Complicated

For centuries when the church moved into a new area, it meant new buildings, services, programs and more. It required individuals of a certain, particular skill to foster this unique expression and invite others to come in. This organization was planted in the garden of the neighbourhood and sought to become the epicenter of activity: children’s programs, youth programs, marriage enrichment, social support, christmas pageants, financial literacy, Sunday school, VBS, and the ever present Sunday morning service.

For the majority of people, the thought of the work is parallel to the act of raising the dead. Ordinary people are relegated to participate in the Kingdom by watching and observing. The talented musicians, speakers, and administrators would shine, while the others were invited to eat while the getting was good.

We’ve watched the Canadian culture change over the last 30 years, where faith and spirituality is playing an increasingly diminishing role in the lives of those around us. The larger narrative has turned cynical when the Jesus that people believe they know does not resemble the way the local Christian or church behaves. People are increasingly hungry for answers when the secular reality has failed them, and they need guides to walk alongside them and demonstrate a way of life that is humble, simple, and ordinary.

God didn’t bring earth to Him in the splendor of heaven, He lowered Himself to take on human flesh and walk among us. There is something refreshing in that simple truth.

Empowered

Around each of us are individuals, couples, families who are living complex lives of work, play, relationships, health, and struggles. Every single one has a story to tell, but in an epidemic of loneliness less and less people are listening. There is no shortage of organizations who want to sell the next thing, invite people to come out to the next pitch, and people are buying – and left wanting. My experience has been an increasing weariness to the next great thing, because so many things have come before and failed.

Everyone has neighbours. They need relationships. Everyone needs to eat.

Sprinkled throughout Scripture is the perpetual message that the followers of Jesus are empowered. They are not alone, but have the steady presence of the Spirit with them, working around them every day. They would do greater things than the creator of the universe in his decades on the planet. They would be His messengers wherever they went, leaving the 99 to find the 1, and showing them a new way of life.

Jesus spent a significant amount of time eating. Listening. Being.

The early church spread not through cathedrals, but around ordinary dinner tables. Their radical, simple, ordinary way of life and relationship with the Almighty answered the questions that the people were asking. They came thirsty to a deep well, saw that others were drinking, and tasted for themselves.

In a world that is lonely, tired, afraid, anxious, there is no message greater than one of hope inviting others to discover a family where they are loved, a calling that gives them purpose, and a God who is far greater than they could ever imagine.

A new relationship starts over a coffee or meal with the most basic human question, “How are you, really?” Loving others is caring enough to go out of our way to get into their space. No agenda, just love. The Spirit is the one who does the rest, and when there are questions, we know Who to point them to.

There’s Gospel when God moves into the neighbourhood. The Gospel is already present in your neighbourhood – you are already there. Spread your leaves, see what God is doing. You’ll find people all around you who are seeking shade from the heat of life. All it takes is an ordinary love.