The quiet whisper to ‘come home’

For years and years

I chased their cheers

The crazy speed of always needing more

But when I stop

And see you here

I remember who all this was for

…And we will come back home

(‘From now on’, The Greatest Showman)

Do you ever find yourself lost in the chaos of life, asking, what am I doing? And then, somewhere in the depths of your gut, you hear a faint whisper: ‘Come home.’ At first, it’s barely noticeable. The whisper fades over the following days, but gradually grows stronger over the weeks and months. Then, all of a sudden, you begin to see and hear it everywhere. In films, in music, on billboards, from the lips of strangers, and louder than ever in your prayers. ‘COME HOME.’ There’s nothing quiet about it anymore. Every sense in your body is alert, and you can no longer avoid it. Somewhere deep down, you knew all along that it was Jesus calling.

The whisper to ‘come home’ can cause us to wonder what it is that has been drawing us away from God. What have we become caught up in? What have we been chasing? But it can also be a moment of recognising that Jesus has been with us all along, even when we’ve been too distracted to notice. I suspect it's often a bit of both. And perhaps that's the beauty of the invitation as Jesus isn't necessarily asking us to abandon everything we're doing, but to remember who we're doing it with, and who it's all for.

‘I remember who all this was for.’

But being called home into the heart of God isn't just for contemplatives, mystics and prayer warriors. It's also for the mission-minded, the activists, the church planters and pioneers. In the words of Alan Hirsch, ‘The more tightly the church is tethered to Jesus, the more freely it can move into the world.’

There's a wonderful freedom in being called home. As we anchor our lives in Jesus, we are reminded, reshaped and reformed towards his likeness. Which is the very same likeness we're hungry to see in our neighbourhoods and communities. Our communion with Christ doesn't take us away from mission, it is what draws us more deeply into it.

So, what is it that stops us?

There are so many distractions in this world, and according to my family, my phone is one of mine. I'm sure if we stopped for a moment, we could all name a few. What's particularly important to this reflection, and to rural ministry, is that sometimes even our theology and ecclesiology can become distractions. Not because they're unimportant, but somewhere along the way, the things that help us understand and participate in the life of God can begin to displace God from the centre.

In the same article Hirsch says: ‘Displacement seldom announces itself. Good things gradually assume the place that belongs to Christ alone: denominational identity, institutional preservation, theological systems, political ideologies, cultural preferences, and mission methodologies. Each has a legitimate subordinate role, and each, once it becomes the centre, bends the Church's mission and identity around itself.’

I think this is worth sitting with for a moment. Our identity as Christians can so easily begin to form around what we believe, rather than who we trust in. Our mission and identity can sadly become more about how we gather than who we gather for. We can become so caught up in conversations about what church should look like, how we should gather, what constitutes a missional community, or which approach to mission is most faithful, that we forget our God at the heart of it all. I say this as someone who spends a considerable amount of time thinking, writing and talking about mission, theology and ecclesiology. It's important to think about, discuss and act upon our reflections on how we gather, but surely this has to begin with our communion with Christ and flow out of that relationship. As Hirsch reminds us, the order is Jesus, missiology, ecclesiology, not the other way round.

An antidote?

Perhaps it begins with holding our theologies a little more lightly and listening to that quiet whisper to come home. Not because our theology, our ecclesiology or our missional practices don't matter, but because they find their meaning and purpose in Jesus. Particularly for those of us involved in mission, this is something we need to keep returning to. It invites us to let go of our assumptions about how things should be, and to allow Jesus to reshape and reform us, perhaps in unexpected ways.

So, let's listen to the whisper inviting us to come home, to rediscover the one who called us to our villages, hamlets and farming communities. Because when we stop and see Jesus here, we remember who all this was for.

Jo Allen

Joint CEO, Rural Ministries