The word missional’s meaning is rooted deeply within the understanding of the church’s purpose. This purpose displays itself in three different ways. The church is a missionary sent on mission as a sign and instrument of the Missio Dei. The first area in which we are called to be missional is as a missionary in our own culture. The general idea of a missionary is a person in a foreign country in a completely non-Christian culture. But in reality, today all Christians live in non-Christian cultures. Tim Keller gives insight into this reality by focusing on the missionary Lesslie Newbigin:

The British missionary Lesslie Newbigin went to India around 1950. There he was involved with a church living ‘in mission’ in a very non-Christian culture. When he returned to England some 30 years later, he discovered that now the Western church too existed in a non-Christian society, but it had not adapted to its new situation. Though public institutions and popular culture of Europe and North America no longer ‘Christianized’ people, the church still ran its ministries assuming that a stream of ‘Christianized,’ traditional/moral people would simply show up in services. Some churches certainly did ‘evangelism’ as one ministry among many. But the church in the West had not become completely ‘missional’—adapting and reformulating absolutely everything it did in worship, discipleship, community, and service—so as to be engaged with the non-Christian society around it. It had not developed a ‘missiology of western culture’ the way it had done so for other nonbelieving cultures.

Even if you are in a “Christianized” culture, the reality is that we still need to view ourselves as missionaries. Every culture needs some amount of contextualization of the gospel. This means that you have to be missionary to do the contextualization needed to present the gospel.

What is the difference between a church that has missions and a missional church? This seems to be the question that everyone is asking lately, and it has been one that I’ve been developing a personal answer to for a while.

There always seems to be a new buzzword in Christian circles every few years. The words enter our vocabulary quickly and leave just as fast. People reword mission and purpose statements around them, and some even restructure their entire church around them. “Seeker-sensitive,” “purpose-driven,” “organic,” and “emerging” are just a few, but the newest to be added to the list is the word “missional.” It is the new buzzword of our day. There are missional churches, missional small groups, missional preaching, missional books, missional degrees, and even missional missiology.

But what does “missional” mean exactly? Most people use it without even stopping to determine what it means. Worst yet, some simply make it mean what they want it to mean to give themselves license to do idiotic and irrelevant acts. This is a sad thing, because the word missional has a deep and beautiful meaning for our churches today.

Police cars in front of the house.

My mind is still spinning as I constantly ask myself the question…why?  Why would a father shoot his own daughter.  Two days ago only five blocks from my house, a father shot his 9-month-old daughter in the head in revenge for his girlfriend being unfaithful to him.  (Read the story here)  I found out the vague information from one of my neighbors and friends as news helicopters where circling the neighborhood.  My heart broke today as I read the full news story of what had happened.

I’ve known for awhile the dirty soul that lies within Albuquerque.  My pastor has said that Albuquerque is a city that is so beautiful on the outside, but dirty when you take a closer look.  I couldn’t agree more.  We have the Sandia mountains, amazing sunsets, deep culture, incredible food, and stunning art.  When you look closer though you see our high crime, fatherlessness, drug abuse, drunk driving, and list goes on and on.

But the dirty underside use to be a distant aspect of Albuquerque to me.  That was until we moved into our neighborhood about a year ago.  I love our neighborhood.  It is a socio-economic, life stage, ethnic, and linguistic mixture of Albuquerque.  The neighborhood has retired couples and newly weds buying their first homes.  It has migrant workers that are trying to give their kids the life they never could.  The school across the street from me is bilingual to accommodate english, spanish, and bilingual students.  There is an active neighborhood association.  One of the main bike routes for the city runs right in front of my house.   It is also part of the International District of Albuquerque.

If I didn’t tell you anymore, you would think I lived in a picturesque suburban neighborhood.  But when you take a closer look, you see something quite different.  It’s called the International District because it use to be called the War Zone and the city didn’t think that helped with PR.  The park across the street that is part of the elementary school is used by prostitutes at night to service Johns.  This was made very clear to me when our Community Group pick up trash a few months ago and threw away over 15 condoms.  While riding my bike, there have been a few times that I’ve nearly ran over hypodermic needles.  I live less than a mile from a gay cowboy bar (I don’t even know how that works).  Five cars were stolen in the neighborhood last month and now homicide can be added to the list.

I live in this weird tension of loving and hating the neighborhood that I live in.  I love the progress and culture of my neighborhood, but hate the sin and depravity that is here.  The thing that keeps me from selling my house and moving to suburbia though is Jesus.  In a weird way, I love knowing that I live in a neighborhood in Albuquerque that needs the gospel the most.

Jesus said to them, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.” – Mark 2:17

Instead of getting mad when I find used condoms by the curb, I find hope.  I know that I’m in a neighborhood that needs Jesus.  I know the gospel gets to shine the brightest in the darkest of places.  My heart is breaking for the family of the little girl that was shot.  My hands are shaking in grief and anger as I type right now.  I take peace in knowing that the full wrath of God will be poured out on the man that shot that beautiful little girl.  But I ultimately hope that for the man to trust in Jesus so that wrath that he rightly deserves will be taken out on the cross.

Please pray with me for my neighborhood.  That God would be glorified as family after family are changed by Jesus.  Pray for me that God will open doors in this neighborhood for the gospel to be proclaimed.  Pray that God would send and raise up more leaders to reach this neighborhood.