God on mission…

Mission

God is a missionary God. That truth flows through Scripture like a steady, unrelenting river (see Isaiah 49:6; Psalm 96:3; Revelation 7:9, 14:6).  Yet, in today’s pluralistic world, where different beliefs are considered equally valid, this very idea can make people just a little uncomfortable.

Mission? Evangelism? These words trigger suspicion in a culture where the mantra is “live your own truth.” Anything resembling evangelism is often seen as unwelcome interference, even if we ask, Can your truth deal with your sin, reconcile you to God, and impute the righteousness of Christ to you?

You’ve probably heard the objections: “Bible-bashing,” “Who are you to push your beliefs on others?” or “Why can’t everyone just believe what they want?” It’s the air we breathe, and as the Church, we must face it. But how do we respond, especially in a way that honours God?

First, let’s be honest about our past. There have been moments in Christian history marked by arrogance and coercion (e.g. the Crusades, colonial missions, and the Inquisition). There’s no point pretending otherwise. We confess our failures and seek to make things right where we can.

But let’s be clear—past mistakes don’t excuse us from God’s ongoing mission. Jesus didn’t give us an opt-out clause on sharing the Gospel. Mission isn’t an optional extra; it’s central to following Jesus. If you are a follower of Jesus, it’s obvious you’ll want to tell everyone about Him—and that is true for most, but also, regrettably not the actual experience. The intent is there, but sometimes life just doesn’t work out the way we intend or planned.

At Emmanuel Sheffield (my home church), we are convinced that everything we do flows from God’s missionary heart. Planted from Oxford in 2020, we’ve seen His mission take shape in our community—whether it’s through Alpha, football outreach, or Discovery Bible Study (DBS), it’s all about making Jesus known. We’ve engaged in mission and we’ve grown, both in God and in our friendships together.

But it’s not just about our methods; it’s about who Jesus is. He’s not a religious leader among many. He’s not “Jesus the Great” alongside other historical figures. He’s Jesus the Only—Lord of all. His uniqueness demands to be shared.   He’s the Saviour who took on our humanity, the King who rules with justice and mercy, and the Shepherd who lays down His life for His sheep. That’s our motivation!

The missionary nature of God is embedded in the very DNA or  core of Scripture. From the beginning, God’s heart has been set on redeeming people from every acre of the world. His covenant with Abraham in Genesis 12 wasn’t just about one family; it was a promise for all the families of the earth (Genesis 12:3, ESV). That promise threads its way through the entire Bible, finding its astonishing fulfilment in Christ.

When Jesus came, He came as the missionary Messiah. His ministry may have started in Israel, but it was always meant to spread; His death and resurrection flung open the doors for the Gospel to reach every nation. And this is where we come in. When Jesus commanded us to “go and make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:19), He wasn’t endorsing cultural superiority or pushing Western ideals. He was proclaiming His authority over the entire world—He alone is Lord.

And because God is missional, He has given us the Great Commission, an extraordinary calling that presents both a challenge and an opportunity for us. We are invited to partner with God in His mission—His mission to redeem and restore the world. It is not our mission, but His, and yet He graciously includes us in it. What a privilege to share in such a vibrant and purpose-filled calling!

Then we see the Holy Spirit, the missionary Spirit, break through every barrier, obstacle and hurdle in Acts. Pentecost wasn’t a cosy moment for the Church to enjoy; it was the blazing launchpad for global mission. The Spirit empowered the early believers to carry the Gospel baton from Jerusalem to the ends of the earth.

And He hasn’t stopped. The same Spirit propels us outward today, past every boundary of culture, language, and geography, driving us to make Jesus known.

So, what about us? As the Church, we exist for the world. As William Temple famously said, “The Church is the only society that exists for the benefit of those who are not its members.” Emmanuel Sheffield isn’t here just to give us a spiritual home—it exists to bring the good news of Jesus to the people of Sheffield and beyond.

Whether through Alpha, student ministry, or football on a Monday or weekend, every step we take is about reaching people with the love of Christ. Think football can’t be spiritual? Think again. God uses the everyday moments—the banter, the post-match conversations, the quiet chats over coffee—to open doors for the Gospel.

Here’s the challenge: we all need to get involved, hands dirty. Faith is not a personal thing, it’s for sharing.  We have good news, very good news, that demands to be shared! Maybe we need to repent for getting too comfortable, for losing sight of God’s mission. But for every one of us, there’s a fresh call today. Are we willing to be part of what God is doing, both locally and globally? Maybe it’s through prayer, maybe through giving, maybe it’s time to share Jesus with a colleague or a neighbour. Whatever form it takes, we just can’t sit this one out – there’s too much at stake.

As William Booth, founder of The Salvation Army, once asked, “How wide is the girth of the world?” When the crowd answered, “25,000 miles,” he replied, “Then we must grow until our arms get right round it.” It’s a big world, but God’s mission is bigger. Let’s grow as a church, spreading the love of Jesus wherever He leads.

May God give us the grace to stretch our arms wider, embrace His world, and boldly share the good news of Jesus—for His glory and the sake of His mission.

When God comes to dinner

sycamore

When Jesus Comes to Your House: Lavish Grace in Unexpected Places

The story of Zacchaeus is a compelling one. It’s bigger than being at a Harry Styles, Lady Gaga, or Human League concert and being called out in person in an immense crowd. Zacchaeus, as we find him, had a problem—he was desperate to see Jesus, but the crowd was large, and he was small. Climbing a nearby sycamore tree was more than just a vantage point; it was an act of longing, a yearning to glimpse the One he’d only heard whispers about. We are not told what he expected to see or what he planned to do after catching sight of Jesus. Was it his intention to call out to Him, as the blind beggar had done? The pace of events, nevertheless, caught him unawares. The unexpected encounter occurred when Jesus walked right up to that tree—not past it—looked up, and said, “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down, for I must stay at your house today” (Luke 19:5, ESV). Drum roll, please!

There’s something profound here. Zacchaeus wanted to see Jesus, but instead, Jesus came and invaded his life. This wasn’t just an ordinary visit; it was an invitation that would redefine who Zacchaeus was. And that’s how God’s grace often works—it surpasses expectations, turning a glimpse from a distance into an intimate, transformative experience.

The House of Your Life

Consider your house—your life. The rooms you’ve meticulously arranged, the doors you’ve closed, the ‘awkward’ places you don’t even want to go yourself. You may tidy up the living room where you meet guests, ensuring everything looks fine on the surface. But then there’s the attic filled with unresolved issues, the closet cluttered with regrets, the dusty corners hiding the remnants of broken dreams. Zacchaeus, a man with a life marked by extortion and isolation, opened the door to Jesus, and everything changed in a heartbeat.

Jesus doesn’t settle for the front room where everything is neat. He’s the kind of guest who walks into every room, unafraid of the mess, the clutter, the hidden shame. He already knows what’s there. He invites Himself into the parts of your life that you’ve locked away—those corners you’ve been avoiding.

With Zacchaeus, Jesus entered his home, but He also entered his shame, his story, his identity as a “sinner.” Zacchaeus wasn’t just a tax collector anymore; he was someone called by Jesus, loved beyond the judgment of the crowd.

The Crowd and the Unexpected Guest

It’s easy to be part of the crowd, spectating from a distance, watching others receive grace but never imagining that Jesus might come to your house. The astonished crowd murmured when they saw Jesus invite Himself to Zacchaeus’ house: “He has gone in to be the guest of a man who is a sinner” (Luke 19:7, ESV). But Jesus isn’t interested in the murmurs or judgments of others—He’s interested in Zacchaeus. He’s interested in you.

When Jesus invites Himself in (not quite the way we do it!), He brings with Him the power of transformation. Zacchaeus, responding to his encounter with Jesus, stands up and declares, “Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor, and if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I restore it fourfold” (Luke 19:8, ESV). Zacchaeus is making an application of the law in Exodus 22:1 concerning retribution, such is his willingness to put things right as much as he knows how. The encounter with Jesus moved Zacchaeus from being a taker to being a giver, from being isolated to being restored in community. It wasn’t just about hosting Jesus in his home; more realistically, it was about Jesus hosting Zacchaeus in the Kingdom, redefining who he was and his purpose.

Grace Unleashed in the Mess

Ready to meet Jesus? Zacchaeus didn’t clean up his act before Jesus arrived. He didn’t try to make himself worthy of the visit. And Jesus didn’t demand that Zacchaeus change before He entered his home. This is stunning. This is where we see the lavishness of God’s grace—He doesn’t wait for you to be ready; He comes, as you are, into the very midst of your mess. The invitation isn’t based on merit, but on God’s unrelenting love.

In our attempts to be ‘good enough,’ we can often miss the whole point of grace. Grace isn’t interested in neat appearances; it’s interested in genuine transformation. Jesus knows all about the parts of your life that are less than perfect, and astonishingly, He still chooses to step in. He’s not surprised by your brokenness. In fact, He chooses your house precisely because He knows it needs His presence.

The love of God is not afraid of our humanity. It isn’t put off by our debris or mistakes, nor is it limited by our failures. Instead, it is a love that looks up into the branches of our own desperate measures and says, “Come down, I must stay at your house today.” It’s an invitation for Jesus to be the centre of our lives, today, transforming our deepest insecurities into places of healing, making our brokenness a platform for His grace.

A Grace That Changes the Story

Imagine the whispers after that encounter. Zacchaeus, the man everyone despised, is now the embodiment of a changed life. He is no longer driven by greed, no longer isolated. He’s part of the Kingdom story that generations will hear about for centuries to come. The encounter with Jesus rewrote Zacchaeus’ narrative from ‘sinner’ to ‘son.’ Jesus declared, “Today salvation has come to this house, since he also is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost” (Luke 19:9-10, ESV).

This story is about more than Zacchaeus; it’s about you and me. It’s about the way Jesus comes into our lives, not to merely be observed from a distance, but to make His home with us, to bring salvation to our house. He sees us not just as we are, but as we could be in His grace, and that grace requires a response. Zacchaeus climbed a tree because he was curious, but he ended up climbing down into a grace-filled invitation that would change his life forever. Jesus could have gone to anyone’s house—but He chose Zacchaeus’.

Jesus, Your Unexpected Guest

What happens when Jesus invites Himself into your life? When He sees you hidden in the branches, curious but perhaps too timid, afraid, or sceptical to approach? Jesus doesn’t just want a polite introduction; He wants the invitation to stay, to inhabit every space, even the ones we’d rather keep closed off. He wants to bring light into your darkness, hope into your despair, and restoration where there’s been loss. It really is a heart-restoring invitation—He is what you need and all you need.

The good news is that He comes not because we deserve it, but because He loves us. His grace isn’t transactional; it’s transformational. The house of your life may have rooms you’re not proud of, but Jesus walks through, bringing with Him all the lavish grace of God—reordering, rebuilding, and restoring. He is not put off by your clutter or mess; He is drawn to it, eager to bring His light.

Jesus comes to your house not just to visit, but to stay. And when He stays, He changes everything. In a heartbeat.