The Smell of a Missional Church

By John Mueller Nowell

Over the years as I have talked to clergy and lay leaders in existing congregations, I have often made the following observation: When congregations have been in existence for 20 years or more they tend to reach a plateau of perceived self-sufficiency, and their primary ministry focus tends to turn inward (on the needs of members) rather than outward (on the needs of the community members around them). When that begins to happen, the congregation’s hospitality is extended primarily to people who show up on Sunday morning and look, sound and smell like them. Now this is not necessarily a conscious decision, but it is a reality. Sure the congregation may continue to support “missions” by sending a portion of their money away to allow someone else to do ministry on their behalf (and that is a good thing), but they no longer understand themselves to be the ones sent by God to do God’s work in God’s world across the street.

Congregations involved in intentional missional ministry empower their members to explore what it means to be those sent by God in Christ’s name. Those congregations begin to realize rather quickly that ministry today is indeed a cross-cultural missionary enterprise.

Congregations that understand that God is sending them into the communities around them do indeed begin to take on the look, and sound, and smell of those to whom they are sent.

This reality was wonderfully reinforced in a story that a minister friend, Jackie Qualls, recently told me. The context of the story is built within the Southside Church of Christ in Mineral Wells, Texas, a congregation involved in the Partnership for Missional Church (PMC) process…a congregation that is working hard to understand what it means for them to be missional where they are located and live into that vision. Here is Jackie’s story in his words:

On Wednesday nights our building has begun to smell different. This new smell was not a pleasant one at first. God's "preferred future" for our congregation was to reach out into our own backyard to the people in our community that no one else wanted. One of the ways this call is being answered is in a Wednesday night tutoring ministry in which around 40 students from kindergarten to high school are bused to our building and are met by their own personal tutor/mentor that range in age from high school teens to 77. Most of the children that come to be tutored/mentored live in households that are below the poverty level. They are dirty, full of energy, and are not "church broke."

Helen (not her real name) is in third grade and never misses Wednesday night tutoring. Helen's family does not have running water at home and because of this she is always dirty. To make things even worse for this sweet little girl, she also wets her pants several times a day. There is a very unique smell to her and most of the kids that come. Every Wednesday she runs off the bus and into the building because she can't wait to get started. She is very affectionate and gives everyone a big hug. At first, the smell was overwhelming in a negative way but now it's different. We are not only accustomed to the unique smell, but we welcome it. This smell has become for us the smell of Jesus, "for whatever you did for one of the least of these . . . you have done it for me." God is showing us that He uses broken things. He chooses the foolish things of the world to shame the wise.

On Wednesday nights our building smells different and when we smell that smell it brings a smile to our faces because we know Jesus is near.

“The stone the builders rejected has become the capstone, the Lord has done this and it is marvelous in our eyes." (Ps 118:22-23)

WOW! Makes me wonder: What would happen if all congregations would allow God’s Spirit to use them to reach out to the children around them who are not “church broke”? What would happen if more congregations could associate the smell of poverty with the smell of Jesus? What would happen if I allowed myself to be sent into situations where a dirty, sweet third-grader named Helen would want to give me a hug because she knows I love her and I am a person she can trust to love her too? Would I let her? Would I hug her back?

John Mueller Nowell is director of client services at Church Innovations.