Launch Day
In the film Apollo 13, there’s a scene involving Tom Hanks’ character Jim Lovell where he’s laying on a hammock next to his wife Marilyn, as they gaze out into the night sky. This is the night before Jim’s set to take off into the uncertainties of outer space in quest to set foot on the moon. And with a certain calmness, he measures his thumb to cover the moon with one eye closed. And as he’s doing so, he tells Marilyn, “Christopher Columbus, Charles Lindbergh and Neil Armstrong. Neil Armstrong. From now on we'll live in the world when man has walked on the moon. It's not a miracle. We just decided to go.” Of course, there’s so much more that preceded the sending of astronauts and the launching of this mission than just deciding to go. There were teams assembled with members added and discarded. There were plans prepared, scrapped, adjusted (rinse and repeat). In order to send these astronauts to the moon, there were countless hours and people who played a role behind the scenes. Nothing is ever quite as simple as it seems.
This past Sunday, our church had our own launch. We weren’t sending anyone to the moon but committed to the regularity of recalling a mission even more courageous, involving infinitely more planning and preparation. With the commitment to the telling and re-telling of the Story of the Son of God, we proclaim Him who became flesh and set foot on the soiled terrains of this world filled with fractures and corruption. But with Jesus and His mission, there were and are no uncertainties. And with Jesus as our center, we take our blindspots and lack of preparation to Him, knowing we are well cared for.
Our launch Sunday was a time of celebration. It was a gathering that involved the Gospel, our community, and hearty laughter — laughter and memories that no hardships or days of difficulty can take from us. They are forever pinned onto our newly forming collage of memories. G. K. Chesterton once said of laughter that it’s the “reentrance of wonder.” And for those in our church entering into this new season together, too much has been our recent circumstantial difficulties. And too often, it’s those difficulties that take away that wonder. That’s the thing about slips and stumbles. When your face is too close to the ground, the scent of the dirt becomes more proximate than the scent of the roses.
But for a time, our God has lifted our chins to enter this season of wonder — to smell the roses and to live out an optimistic anticipation. Sure, troubles will come — they always have and always will. But we celebrate the faithfulness of our God who has held His children together with care and delicacy. And as witnessed through our launch day service, this season is one we enter as the beneficiaries of our ministry partners, our brothers and sisters cheering us on from afar, and our God who collects each prayer into a permanent memory box. We as a church are so grateful, because these things don’t just happen. But with coalescing trust, we commit these days to our God, knowing that He’s seen this journey through. And if it’s Jesus who’s offering His hand, we’re eager to take these next steps, knowing that it’s alongside the protection of our King that we brave each slip and stumble. But for now, we smell the roses, and that’s God’s mercy to us in this new season of new beginnings.
This past Sunday, our church had our own launch. We weren’t sending anyone to the moon but committed to the regularity of recalling a mission even more courageous, involving infinitely more planning and preparation. With the commitment to the telling and re-telling of the Story of the Son of God, we proclaim Him who became flesh and set foot on the soiled terrains of this world filled with fractures and corruption. But with Jesus and His mission, there were and are no uncertainties. And with Jesus as our center, we take our blindspots and lack of preparation to Him, knowing we are well cared for.
Our launch Sunday was a time of celebration. It was a gathering that involved the Gospel, our community, and hearty laughter — laughter and memories that no hardships or days of difficulty can take from us. They are forever pinned onto our newly forming collage of memories. G. K. Chesterton once said of laughter that it’s the “reentrance of wonder.” And for those in our church entering into this new season together, too much has been our recent circumstantial difficulties. And too often, it’s those difficulties that take away that wonder. That’s the thing about slips and stumbles. When your face is too close to the ground, the scent of the dirt becomes more proximate than the scent of the roses.
But for a time, our God has lifted our chins to enter this season of wonder — to smell the roses and to live out an optimistic anticipation. Sure, troubles will come — they always have and always will. But we celebrate the faithfulness of our God who has held His children together with care and delicacy. And as witnessed through our launch day service, this season is one we enter as the beneficiaries of our ministry partners, our brothers and sisters cheering us on from afar, and our God who collects each prayer into a permanent memory box. We as a church are so grateful, because these things don’t just happen. But with coalescing trust, we commit these days to our God, knowing that He’s seen this journey through. And if it’s Jesus who’s offering His hand, we’re eager to take these next steps, knowing that it’s alongside the protection of our King that we brave each slip and stumble. But for now, we smell the roses, and that’s God’s mercy to us in this new season of new beginnings.
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2023
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