How to Tell Stories About Jesus That Spiritually Curious People Will Love

When I was right out of college, I packed three suitcases and moved from Texas to Washington, D.C. My parents were understandably concerned. They worried that I would be alone and have trouble finding my own way. I had made a few connections, and within a couple of weeks of arriving I was invited to rent a room in the home of a family. There's a particular transience to the D.C. area. Nearly everyone is from somewhere else, and this family was no exception. They remembered what it was like to be new, and they were particularly good at helping outsiders become insiders. When I moved in, I was given a chore. My simple task was unloading the dishwasher. It may seem odd, but it made me feel like part of the family. Before too long, their friends became my friends, and my friends became their friends. Our life together painted a different picture than the one we so often see in the midst of American suburban life. Like most families, they were busy people. Their schedule was already full. The thing is, this family didn't try to fit me into their schedule. They invited me into their life. In reality, their decision to open their home and their lives to me—and to others—made their schedule richer, not harder. During the years I lived there, they didn't throw a Christmas party. They threw a Christmas decorating party. They made the chili. The guests put the lights on the tree. For anyone who was far from home, the experience offered a blessed taste of home. Their hospitality welcomed us into a new kind of family. A Promise for Outsiders The prophet Isaiah tells us about a new kind of family—a family that welcomes the outsider into a promised land filled with hope. The nations will see your righteousness, and all kings your glory; you will be called by a new name that the mouth of the Lord will bestow. ... No longer will they call you Deserted, or name your land Desolate. But you will be called Hephzibah, and your land Beulah... (Isaiah 62:2–4) Isaiah is often called the "fifth gospel" because his words point so clearly to the coming of Christ. His prophecy was written across seasons of Israel's history—from strength, to exile, to restoration. Again and again, Isaiah reminds God's people that despite hardship, they will not be forsaken. The land will not remain desolate forever. God will give His people a new name, a new identity, and a renewed future. The promise of Israel, Isaiah says, is available to all. Those themes are instructive for us as we think about the life of the church. Like Israel, we have a collective memory. Many of us remember a time when it seemed like everyone we knew went to church. Now that time has passed, and it can feel as though we're living in exile. But exile changes us. It makes us stronger. We may dream of returning to the place where we once were, but that place never looks the same. The house we grew up in always feels smaller than it did when we were kids. We can't expect the church to look the same either. Like the prophet Isaiah, we remember that no matter the hardship, the people who are ushered into God's promise are given a new name and a new family. The promise of Israel is a blazing torch for all to see. When I say Israel, I don't mean simply the nation. I mean the promise: the promise of salvation, the promise that God delights in His people, and the promise that no matter how rejected or forgotten we may feel, God desires to give us a new name. The question for us is this: How is that promise made visible through our lives? From Outsiders to Family One of the most beautiful pictures of that promise is found in the story of Epiphany—the manifestation of Christ to people outside of Israel. The Magi follow the star to the home where Mary, Joseph, and Jesus are staying. Long before many recognized who Jesus was, outsiders were welcomed into His presence. I love celebrating Epiphany because, the truth is, we wouldn't be here without it. Which brings us back to family. The Magi are outsiders who are invited inside. They bring gifts to Jesus. Their story is a tangible reminder that the whole world has been invited into the celebration of God's covenant with His people. Think about it. Israel was once a closed family. There were rules about associating with outsiders. Through Jesus, that family was opened to the whole world. The promise that Abraham's descendants would be as numerous as the stars in the sky was beautifully echoed in the star that led the wise men to Jesus. Thankfully, Jesus' family didn't have the television up too loud when the wise men came to the door. Thankfully, they didn't wait until all the laundry was folded before welcoming them inside. There was something special about this family. They revealed something of God to the world, and the world couldn't help but notice. The same should be true of our families—and of the church as a family of families. If God's covenant with His people opened the door for outsiders to become family, how might God use our own families to invite others into His life? Three Ways to Help Outsiders Experience Family One of the gifts of the family who welcomed me into their home is that they showed me hospitality isn't complicated. It often begins with ordinary acts of openness. Celebrate holy days that tell the story of Jesus. Celebrate holidays in ways that invite neighbors into God's story. For Epiphany, invite friends to bring gifts for children in need. Let the children help the wise men journey to the manger scene. On the Feast of the Presentation, host a shower or blessing for a newborn in your neighborhood. Our celebrations can become opportunities for others to experience the welcome of God. Invite people into your life—not just your schedule. The family I lived with didn't try to squeeze me into an already busy calendar. They invited me into the life they were already living. Share errands with someone who's new in town. Invite neighbors over for a spontaneous Saturday breakfast—and don't clean the house beforehand. Hospitality isn't about creating perfect moments. It's about sharing everyday life. Pray with expectation. Before you leave for the grocery store, head out to dinner, or run errands, pray with your spouse, children, or housemates. Ask God to show you someone who needs encouragement or a blessing. People in our fresh expression have made this a regular practice, and they often come back with stories of God's work in the grocery aisle or around an ordinary meal. A New Name. A New Family. The promise of Israel is the promise of a new identity, a new family, and a new name. As we live into that promise ourselves, we also have the privilege of helping others discover that the Epiphany—the manifestation of God's power revealed in Jesus—is available to all. FROM THE ARCHIVES: Some ideas become more valuable with time. This article has been lightly updated to serve today's mission while preserving the author's original vision.

The brown leaves crunched beneath my boots as my friend and I hiked a section of the Appalachian Trail. Along the way, we passed two very different kinds of hikers. There were the weekend hikers—families with dogs and daypacks headed back to cozy cabins at day's end. And then there were the thru-hikers. These were people carrying everything they owned on their backs, committed to walking hundreds—sometimes thousands—of miles. They weren't taking a holiday from the trail. They lived for it. Their hearts were set on the journey. And thru-hikers don't stay in cabins. Instead, when they're not sleeping in tents or hammocks, they stay in simple trail shelters. These small, open-air structures provide protection from the wind and rain, but they're not designed for comfort. They're places where strangers become friends, stories are exchanged, meals are shared, and then everyone heads back onto the trail. That image has stayed with me ever since. Cabins are for people who want to take a holiday from the world. Shelters are for people who see the world as their mission. The same can be true of our church buildings. When Church Buildings Become Cabins One of the greatest resources an established church has is its building. For generations, church buildings have represented faithfulness, sacrifice, and the life of a congregation. They have been places of worship, celebration, comfort, and community. But as our culture has changed, many church buildings have quietly shifted in purpose. Instead of serving as launching places for mission, they've become places where the church retreats from the world around it. They protect us from the unfamiliar. They reflect the preferences of those who call them home. They disconnect from the neighborhood. They unintentionally communicate that church happens inside these walls rather than beyond them. In other words, many church buildings slowly become cabins. Cabin or Shelter? Having a church building isn't the problem. The question is what that building is preparing people to do. Does it primarily gather people who already belong, or does it equip and send disciples into the neighborhoods God loves? How do you know? Take this simple test: Do the majority of groups and ministries of your church meet in the building? (+1 for cabin if yes, +1 for shelter if no) Do any community groups utilize your building? If so, do you know the names of the groups’ leaders and something about them? (+1 each for cabin if no, +1 each for shelter if yes) Does your church kitchen cook food mainly for church members or community members? (+1 for cabin if church, +1 for shelter if community) If you started a new ministry that utilized your building in a way for people who are not connected to your church, would your congregation be mad? (+1 for cabin if yes, +1 for shelter if no) Do congregation members see themselves as owners or stewards of the building? (+1 for cabin if owners, +1 for shelter if stewards) Ask 3 people at the nearest grocery store if they have heard of your church. (+1 for cabin if 2-3 have not, +1 for shelter if 2-3 have) In outreach events, do congregation members focus more on talking to people who enter your church campus or selling things from your church campus? (+1 for cabin if selling things, +1 for shelter if talking to people) Does your church tell more stories (in worship Sunday School, etc) of local missions and missionaries or foreign missions and missionaries? (+1 for cabin if foreign, +1 for shelter if local) "Does your church building tend to serve more as a cabin—a place for members to congregate—or as a shelter—a place to deploy people into mission?" Turning Cabins into Shelters The good news is that cabins can become shelters. It doesn't happen overnight, but it does happen one faithful step at a time. Remove the Walls Not the physical ones—at least not yet. Begin by identifying the assumptions, fears, habits, or traditions that keep your congregation disconnected from the people around you. Disrupt Comfort Comfort isn't bad, but it can quietly become the enemy of mission. Ask what small changes might help your congregation become more attentive to the needs of the neighborhood than to maintaining the status quo. Tell Better Stories Share stories of everyday missionaries in your congregation—people building friendships, serving neighbors, and noticing where God is already at work. The stories we celebrate shape the church we become. Audit Your Building Walk through every room in your church with fresh eyes. What spaces are underused? Who from your community could gather there? Could you imagine homework clubs, recovery groups, artists, neighborhood associations, music lessons, or community meals filling those rooms throughout the week? Audit Your Community Meet with local leaders—a principal, nonprofit director, mayor, librarian, or business owner. Ask them one simple question: What are the greatest needs in our community right now? Listen carefully. God often reveals new mission opportunities through the voices of our neighbors. Prayer Walk Walk your property and your neighborhood with open eyes and open hearts. Pay attention to who is there, who isn't, and what the Holy Spirit may be inviting your church to notice. Visit The Chapel (the FX Prayer page) for a downloadable Prayer Walk Guide. Find Teammates Don't try to transform your church alone. Invite others to dream, pray, and experiment with you. Mission has always been a shared journey. Turn Existing Ministries Outward Rather than creating something entirely new, consider how an existing ministry could become more outward-facing. Could your annual dinner become a neighborhood meal? Could your building become a home base for people serving in the community rather than simply a destination? A Place to Be Sent In the time and place in society we find ourselves, church buildings can be a game-changer in re-orienting toward mission and the Kingdom of God. When a church building is a shelter where travelers can gather and then see their mission as back on the trail, it can amplify the evangelistic zeal and change the direction of an existing congregation. Cabin or shelter—which will be part of your church’s story? Cabin or shelter? Which story will your church tell? FROM THE ARCHIVES: Some ideas become more valuable with time. This article has been lightly updated to serve today's mission while preserving the author's original vision.

A Growing Hunger for Spiritual Fruit I had the privilege of pastoring Newport Assembly of God for fifty-one years. Our church is located in a small Pennsylvania town of 1,700 residents in a rural county of approximately 46,000 people. Over the years, the Lord enabled our church to build some amazing ministries at home and abroad. We continue to be a major stakeholder in our county. The Bread of Life Outreach (BOLO) receives, processes, and distributes more than 210 tons of food, household products, non-prescription medical supplies, and durable medical equipment each month. It is rewarding to operate our local food pantry and see hundreds of families served every week. While our church was meeting physical needs in significant ways, I felt we were lacking in identifying tangible spiritual fruit. We regularly shared Jesus and prayed with the people we served. However, it was often difficult to find the quality time needed to build meaningful friendships and help people take deeper steps in their relationship with Christ. We have a saying at Newport Assembly: "We are married to the mission but dating the strategy." So we prayed and asked God for direction. Discovering Dinner Church Eight years ago, I learned about a growing church planting model centered around tables and was encouraged to read Verlon Fosner's book, Welcome to Dinner Church. The book immediately captured my attention, and I began praying and researching this movement. As my excitement grew, I started sharing the vision with our congregation. Church members were invited to informational meetings where the dinner church model was presented. Key leaders were identified and challenged to take on important roles. We organized, planned, and—most importantly—prayed as we embarked on this dinner church journey. Our goal was to reach the unchurched, de-churched, and impoverished in our community. Ideally, we hoped to find a building not associated with a church, but no suitable location became available. Instead, we settled on Newport Assembly's Family Life Center, a gymnasium with a commercial kitchen and stage. We knew church properties can be barriers for some people, so we worked hard to create a welcoming environment. Invitation cards were distributed through our food pantry and throughout the community, and A-frame signs were placed in strategic locations to advertise our new gathering. Launching The Dinner Table We launched The Dinner Table on the last Thursday of March 2019. Our initial goal was to average fifty attendees per week by the end of 2019 and one hundred attendees per week by the end of 2020. After just three months, we were averaging 123 attendees each week. When we paused gatherings one year later due to COVID-19, attendance had grown to an average of 158 people per week. We resumed meeting in September 2020 and currently average around 130 attendees each week, supported by twenty-five to thirty faithful team members who serve on a regular basis. 

This article emerged from the Fresh Expressions Podcast episode “Finding Belonging” featuring David Kim, author of Made to Belong. To listen to the full conversation, visit . Across North America, church leaders are asking important questions about how to connect with college students and young adults. Many campuses are filled with opportunities to connect, yet meaningful community often remains elusive. Despite being surrounded by classmates, roommates, organizations, and online networks, many students still struggle to find places where they feel truly known. The challenge facing churches is not simply how to gather students into a room. It is how to cultivate spaces where people can experience belonging. In a conversation on the Fresh Expressions Podcast, David Kim, author of Made to Belong , reflected on his own journey of loneliness, belonging, and community. Born in South Korea and moving to the United States at age ten, David experienced firsthand the challenges of finding connection in an unfamiliar culture. As he reflected on both his personal story and his years of pastoral ministry, he came to a realization: “I realized that wait a minute—I’m not the only one struggling with loneliness. So many of our people are coming into the church community longing and desperate for deeper spiritual friendships and communities.” While David’s comments were not directed specifically toward college students, they name a reality that many campus ministers, pastors, and church leaders encounter every day. Beneath the activity, busyness, and constant connection of modern life is a deep desire to be known. Belonging Often Begins with Shared Interests One of the practices David identifies in his work is what he calls “chemistry.” For some Christians, that word may feel uncomfortable. Aren’t we supposed to love everyone equally? David suggests a more nuanced approach. He explains, “There is actually a way for us to love all and still be okay to lean into the few that God is highlighting in our lives.” Host Heather Jallad immediately connected this idea to the Fresh Expressions movement, observing that “a lot of these Fresh Expressions of church kind of develop around affinity groups.” That observation helps explain why many Fresh Expressions begin not with a worship service, Bible study, or church program, but with a shared interest, hobby, passion, or experience. Again and again, we see relationships develop when people gather around something they already enjoy together. Several years ago, a member of our church in Blacksburg, Virginia, began wondering what might happen if her love of hiking became a place for spiritual connection. Emma, an avid hiker, noticed that many people in our region found meaning, reflection, and even a sense of God’s presence while spending time outdoors. Rather than waiting for a church committee to launch a ministry, she simply invited others to experiment with her. The first hikes included moments of silence, prayer, reflection, and conversation. Participants were invited to pay attention to creation through their senses and notice where God might be speaking or inviting them deeper. What began as a simple invitation created opportunities for meaningful spiritual conversations among people who already shared a love for the outdoors. We’ve seen this same principle surface in a variety of experiments among college students and young adults. Some have gathered around intramural sports, discovering that shared practices, regular rhythms of games, and post winning (or defeat) milkshake runs create natural opportunities for friendship. Others have explored communities built around gaming and shared interests that provide a low-pressure environment for students to spend time together, build relationships, and eventually engage in deeper conversations about life and faith. The common thread in each of these examples is not the activity itself. Hiking, sports, and gaming are simply the contexts. The deeper reality is that people are often more willing to explore questions of faith after they have first experienced a sense of belonging. Shared interests create space for trust, friendship, and community to develop naturally. Belonging Happens Around Tables Not every Fresh Expression begins on a hiking trail or athletic field. Some begin around a dinner table. At First Church in Williamsport, Pennsylvania, a ministry called Sunday Slowdown creates space for college students to step away from the pressures of campus life. The gathering centers around a home-cooked meal, board games, and a simple invitation to set phones aside and be fully present with the people in the room. In a season of life often marked by deadlines, constant notifications, and increasing isolation, Sunday Slowdown offers something many students deeply need: a place to slow down and be known. This desire to be known is one of the central themes David returns to throughout his conversation with Heather. Reflecting on the role of vulnerability in healthy community, he asks, “We want to be known but if you do not open up then how can we be truly known to begin with?” Genuine belonging requires more than simply occupying the same room. It requires trust, openness, and the willingness to share life together. Gatherings like Sunday Slowdown remind us that meaningful community is often built through ordinary practices. Sharing a meal, playing a game, listening to another person’s story, or simply being fully present can create the conditions where deeper relationships begin to form. While these moments may appear simple from the outside, they often become the foundation for significant spiritual conversations and lasting friendships. Beyond Content Toward Connection Many churches work hard to create opportunities for learning and discipleship. Bible studies, classes, and small groups remain important tools for spiritual growth. Yet David offers a helpful challenge for those leading communities. “When your group is primarily about regurgitating content, then you’re not really able to forge meaningful relationships.” David is quick to clarify that he loves Scripture and values Bible study. The issue is not the content itself. The issue is stopping there. As he explains: “We have to move on from being just regurgitating content to how that content is affecting and shaping and forming our lives.” This insight may be particularly important when considering ministry among college students and young adults. Many students are not looking for another lecture. They are looking for people who will walk alongside them. They are looking for spaces where questions are welcomed, stories are shared, and faith becomes something lived rather than simply discussed. Heather reflected on this same reality from her experience helping leaders start Fresh Expressions. “I’ve encouraged them to lead with their own limitations rather than walking in the room and saying, ‘I’ve got all the answers.’” Authentic community is rarely built through expertise alone. More often, it grows through honesty, curiosity, and a willingness to journey together. A Question Worth Asking As church leaders consider ministry among college students, young adults, and emerging generations, perhaps the first question is not: “What program should we start?” Perhaps the better question is: Where are people already finding connection? Around meals? On hiking trails? Through intramural sports? In gaming communities? Around creative projects? Through service opportunities? Through shared passions? The Fresh Expressions movement has discovered time and again that belonging often begins in ordinary places and through ordinary experiences. Long before people are ready to explore faith, they are often looking for friendship. Long before they are looking for a church service, they are often looking for a place where they can be known. The goal is not to create an activity for students. The goal is to discover where God may already be creating opportunities for belonging. What shared experiences already exist around your campus? Where are students already gathering? What passions, interests, hobbies, or needs might become the starting point for meaningful relationships? What if the next Fresh Expression among college students begins not with a program, but with belonging? These are some of the questions we continue to explore together during the Fresh Expression Incubators.

Have you ever stumbled across something that immediately captured your attention? Maybe it was a book, a podcast, or an idea that seemed to answer a question you've been carrying for years. Before long, you're researching, learning everything you can, and telling anyone who will listen. When we discover something that truly resonates, we naturally want to understand it more deeply. For many people, dinner church is exactly that kind of discovery. A Place to Go Beyond the Basics If you've found yourself drawn to the vision of gathering around the table, sharing meals, and forming communities centered on Jesus, the Dinner Church School of Leadership (DCSL) offers an opportunity to go deeper. DCSL exists for leaders who want to fully understand the theology, history, and practice of dinner church—and who want to help others imagine what this movement could look like in their own communities. As churches seek new ways to connect with people who are unlikely to walk through the doors of traditional congregations, we need leaders willing to learn, experiment, and pioneer. The church-planting spirit that has shaped movements throughout history is still needed today. Why This Matters Across our cities, towns, and neighborhoods are people longing for connection, belonging, and hope. The story of Jesus is meant to be experienced in community, and dinner church creates space for that story to be shared around ordinary tables. This vision cannot remain isolated to a few communities. It must multiply. That's why we need leaders who can carry this vision forward, equip others, and help establish Jesus tables in places where people are searching for community and meaning. Bringing Your Heart, Head, and Hands What does it take to lead in this movement? Your heart must be willing to imagine what God can do through something as simple as a shared meal. Your head must engage the rich theology that grounds dinner church and keeps it centered on the mission of Jesus. Your hands must faithfully show up, week after week, creating spaces where people can encounter Christ and one another. Your Invitation If you're ready to take a deeper dive into the theology and practice of dinner church, we invite you to join us. Come learn alongside fellow practitioners, church leaders, and pioneers. Explore what it means to cultivate communities around the Jesus table and discover how this ancient way of being church can take root in your neighborhood, ministry, or network. There are people waiting for a table to be set. Will you help make room for them? Program Details Dinner Church School of Leadership Weekly online lectures Tuesdays, 7:00–9:00 PM Eastern / 4:00–6:00 PM Pacific Classes begin September 15, 2026 Register online: https://www.eventbrite.com/e/dinner-church-school-of-leadership-registration-tickets-1988493581832 Learn more about DCSL: https://www.freshexpressions.com/dcsl Academic Pathways DCSL is an accredited graduate program through Kairos University and can lead toward a Master of Arts in Christian Leadership or a Master of Divinity degree. For more information, contact:  Josh Gering — josh.gering@freshexpressions.com Jon Davis — jon.davis@freshexpressions.com

In 2021, I was a first-time lead pastor of a small congregation. I was single, paying my own bills, and wondering whether my next paycheck from the church would arrive on time. In that season, God clearly spoke to me and said that the church needed to plant a Dinner Church. I remember praying, “God, I need to grow this church. How do you expect me to start a whole new one?” God challenged my heart by reminding me that He had called me to the community I was in. I was forfeiting influence in most of the community because I was determined to stay in the church. The first night of Dinner Church was a huge step of faith, both personally and for our dying congregation. Over the last four and a half years, we’ve learned that funding a Dinner Church isn’t about having a large budget. It’s about building relationships, stewarding resources creatively, and trusting God’s provision. Here a menu of the most practical ways we’ve funded a weekly Jesus table in our community. Offering Box Each week, we placed a locked offering box on the dessert table. From the microphone, whoever is giving announcements that week will say something like, “The food here is always free! But if you would like to donate toward future meals, there’s a donation bin on the dessert table!” On average, we receive about one dollar per person in attendance. Keep it low-pressure and consistent. Over time, people begin to take ownership of the table. Community Connections Your mayor and town leaders have a vested interest in providing resources to the community. About twice a year, I go to our public town council meeting. I stand up during public comment, introduce myself, and give a 2-minute overview of our weekly meals. At the end, I give each council member a flyer and remind them that we are a resource if they come across anyone in need. Because of this, their employees donate all the food for our Thanksgiving meal each year, and they have given us a $31,500 grant because they know we exist as a valuable resource in the community. Once a year, we put a flyer for our dinner and candy in a bag or basket and take it to every local business with a note that says something like, “Thanks for being a valuable member of our community. If you know anyone who could use a meal, send them our way.” We also include information about how to sponsor one of our meals if their business would like to get involved. Many have. Donations In 2021 the World Wildlife Fund, Driven to Waste report revealed that 2.5 billion tons of food is wasted every year globally. That’s about 40% of all food produced. If that number feels too big, imagine every person throwing away 350 plates of food each year. There are literally tons of food to be had; you just have to know where to look and who to ask. We receive weekly donations from our local grocery store. We keep what we can use for dinner and distribute the rest on a grocery giveaway table each week. We are also members of our local food bank. We pay a small membership fee that gives us access to the food bank’s warehouse. Truck drivers are often responsible for disposing of any product that arrives damaged. We’ve received lots of perfectly good products in wrinkled boxes. Farmers are also often looking to move unsold and unused products. How do you get donations? Build relationships with people in your community! All of them! The ones with the food and the ones who need food. One of the most important lessons we’ve learned is this: don’t say no. If you take the full donation, even when it’s inconvenient, you become the easiest solution for that business. The easiest solution gets the first phone call next time. You will get items you don’t need. Share them with the community. Some of our best stories have come from a huge donation of a random item. Grants Grants should not be your main source of income, but they have been incredibly helpful in obtaining funding, equipment, and vehicles to make dinner happen each week. Organizations like Walmart, banks, realtor associations, and websites like 4Imprint offer easy-to-apply-for grants that can boost your impact. Before you apply for a grant, make sure you have your 501(c)(3) paperwork, statistics, and stories of how your dinner is impacting the community. Each grant requires different documentation, but these are common for most. Be creative in what grants you apply for. Your goal may be to meet needs and build community, but you are also likely rescuing food that would otherwise go to waste. You may also be providing opportunities for individuals who need community service. Each grant has a specific cause they care about. Don’t make things up, but make sure you recognize the full value you bring to the community so you can share that with organizations offering grants. I’ve found most of my grants by following local non-profits or para-church organizations that rely fully on grants. They usually have multiple full-time employees finding grants year round. When they thank a grant donor on their social media, I add it to my list of grants to explore. When we served that first meal, I wasn’t sure how we would sustain even a few weeks. Four and a half years later, God has provided over 30,000 meals, two vans, a trailer, freezers, and countless relationships that have transformed our community. My paycheck has never been late, and our budget has never been in the red. More importantly, people who once felt unseen now have a seat at the table. Dinner Church funding is not just a financial strategy. It is a discipleship journey. It teaches leaders and communities to trust that God provides through people, relationships, and unexpected sources. Provision rarely shows up as a lump sum. It often shows up as daily bread

Imagine gathering with friends around a campfire, holding a cup of hot chocolate while the fire crackles in front of you. There’s something about sitting around a fire that changes the way we relate to one another. The focus shifts away from ourselves and toward community. People slow down. Sitting side-by-side instead of face-to-face somehow makes sharing easier. Stories, games, laughter, and meaningful conversations seem to come naturally. A Different Kind of Gathering One of my favorite images in Scripture is found after Jesus’ resurrection, when He cooks breakfast for His disciples by the fire on the shore. The simplicity of that moment has always stayed with me. Jesus didn’t just teach in synagogues or from mountaintops. He also gathered people around meals, around ordinary moments, and around shared experiences. What if creating space for spiritual conversations could be that simple? The Outdoors Don’t Have to Be Extreme When we think about outdoor Fresh Expressions, it’s easy to imagine epic hikes, mountain adventures, or long-distance runs. While those can absolutely become meaningful spaces for connection and discipleship, outdoor Fresh Expressions can also be much simpler. Sometimes they can look like a backyard fire pit. I live in a parsonage, and we have a fire pit built from stones taken from a house on our property that was lost in a fire decades ago. There’s something powerful about gathering people around those stones now sharing with one another in a place that once experienced loss by becoming a place of hospitality, storytelling, and connection. A campfire feels accessible in a way that an epic outdoor adventure may not. It doesn’t require expensive gear, advanced skills, or being highly athletic. Almost anyone can gather around a fire, and yet those gatherings can become deeply meaningful spaces for connection, belonging, and spiritual curiosity. I’ve been to campfires with potlucks. I’ve cooked meals over the fire and baked sourdough bread in the coals. I’ve played ridiculous games around campfires with friends. I’ve shared campfires with strangers while camping and shared them with lifelong friends late into the night. I’ve watched bears wander by in the distance. I’ve sat beside the fire with my husband, talking for hours about what God is doing in our lives and communities. Again and again, I’ve seen how the outdoors create space for deeper conversations. Sometimes Mission Starts Small That’s really what the Outdoor Incubator is about. It’s not about creating extreme outdoor experiences or becoming an expert adventurer. It’s about helping leaders discover simple, meaningful ways to use the outdoors to connect with people in their communities. It’s about creating spaces where people who are curious about faith can encounter authentic community and begin exploring what a relationship with Jesus might look like. Sometimes mission starts with something as simple as lighting a fire, pulling up a chair, and making space for conversation.

It started with a contradiction. My husband loves people. I… don't. At least not in the way that requires constant scheduling, cooking, hosting, and coordinating calendars weeks in advance. We were both tired. Tired of trying to find time for the people we actually wanted to see. Tired of the back-and-forth: "When are you free?” "What about next week?” "Let's try next month." Tired of cooking one more dinner or paying for another meal out that wasn't really designed to include kids. And underneath all of that was something deeper: Community had become… thin. We waved at neighbors in the summer. South Dakota winters kept everyone inside. Friends we loved were reduced to text messages. At the same time, we were aware of something bigger. In 2023, the U.S. Surgeon General named loneliness and isolation a public health crisis. We didn't need a report to tell us that, but it gave language to what we were already feeling. So instead of asking, “How do we schedule more time with people?” We started asking a different question: What if we stopped scheduling… and simply opened our door? The First Sunday We didn't overthink it. We subscribed to a simple online invitation service and sent one message: First Sunday of the month. Come as you are. Bring a chair, something to share, and your whole self. No RSVP pressure. No expectations. No religious programming. Just… come. The first time we did it, about 80 people showed up. Neighbors. Friends. Colleagues. People from completely different parts of our lives. I remember one moment so clearly: A colleague walked in and locked eyes with one of our friends. They paused, trying to place each other. And then it clicked. Their faces lit up with this contagious, almost childlike joy. That's when I realized: This wasn't just about us hosting people. It was about people discovering each other. And here's the part that surprised me most: I left that night… full. As someone who doesn't naturally "like people," I expected to feel drained. Instead, I felt refreshed. Joyful. Grounded in a way I hadn't expected. And that has been true almost every single time since. What a First Sunday Actually Looks Like It's simpler than you're probably imagining. There is no program. There is no agenda. Instead, there is a rhythm. The kids start decorating sometime during the day. I plan a dish earlier in the week—always something vegetarian and kid-friendly. Around 4:00 PM, we set out chairs, drinks, and paper goods. At 4:30, we put up a simple sign: "Come in." From 5:00–8:00 PM, the front door is open. That's it. People come and go. They bring food. Or don't. They sit. Talk. Laugh. Sometimes debate real-life things. Yes, sometimes those conversations get a little uncomfortable. Someone has a strong opinion. Someone else is quieter. But here's what we've noticed: It has never stopped people from coming back. By 8:00 PM, we take the sign down. By 9:00 PM, everything is cleaned up. And my role? Not a host. Not a manager. Steward of the space. I don't micromanage. I couldn't. If this required more structure, we wouldn't still be doing it. The Unexpected Guests One of the most striking things has been who shows up. Yes, there are church-going people. But there are also: People who grew up in church and left People who were hurt by the church People who have no connection to church at all Street ministers Curious neighbors And here's what's surprising: You can't tell the difference. There is no visible line between "church people" and "non-church people." In fact, the people who are disconnected from church often show up with the most curiosity. They ask questions about life, about faith, about meaning, but in a way that feels relaxed, not pressured. When we ask people why they come, the answers are simple: "My kids and I feel welcome here." "It's joyful." "I leave feeling refreshed." "I feel connected again." There is one neighbor who refuses to give us their phone number. They're cautious, perhaps even a little suspicious. And yet, they never miss a chance to ask: "What's the theme for next month?" The Children Changed Everything If I'm honest, the children have become the heart of this. After the first few gatherings, they took over. One Sunday, I was away preaching when my husband called: "The kids are moving furniture and redecorating the house." My response? "Don’t be a church basement lady. Let them." And they did. They created themes. Decorations. Activities. They even started their own fundraiser—completely on their own. They've raised money for: The rainforest A street ministry The Humane Society They made art. Organized raffles. Hosted an art show. What I've learned from them is this: Everyone has gifts waiting to be released. Sometimes all they need is space. Where the Gospel Shows Up (Without Announcing It) We don't label this as church. There's no sermon. No liturgy. But if you look closely, the shape might feel familiar. People gather. Food is shared. Strangers become neighbors. Stories are exchanged. People leave changed, even if just a little. Jesus did a lot of his work like this. At tables. At weddings. On hillsides with thousands of people sharing food. There was a rhythm to it. A pattern. A kind of open-door invitation: "You want to come? Come." That's what this feels like. "Come as you are" isn't a slogan here. It means: Come tired Come joyful Come skeptical Come curious Come exactly as you ask Sometimes that means someone just walks across the street because they're too depleted to do anything more. And that is enough. What Has Changed Something has shifted. In our family We share a sense of excitement around something we do together. It's not a chore, it’s something we look forward to. In our neighborhood We are known, not for a title or a role, but as the people who open their home. In my own faith I find myself asking new questions: What is Christian community, really? How does it grow organically? What does it need to thrive? What might need to shift in the church to make space for this? We are also aware of what's still missing. Our neighborhood is largely white. We want to see more cultural diversity. We're working on it, but it's a reminder that intentionality still matters. What Has Been Hard This isn't perfect. Winter attendance drops Sometimes people think, "I'll go next month." Our pets get anxious (they're kenneled during gatherings) We've had to set boundaries, especially around private spaces At one point, kids ignored our daughter's request to stay out of her room. Things were broken. That meant we had to be clear: You are welcome here—when you respect each other. And then there's the quiet temptation we all know: Measuring success by numbers. But connection doesn't work that way. It happens when two or three people are gathered. It happens in small moments, not just big turnouts. Why This Works (And Stays Sustainable) It works because it's simple. It happens once a month, not every week It costs almost nothing People bring what they can There is no pressure to perform People don't come to your house. People come for people. And if no one comes? The kids already solved that. They walk around the neighborhood and ring doorbells: "Hey, want to come over?" Three Things We've Learned Exhaustion can be transformative. Keep it simple. Don't overthink it.  What Might Be Possible for You? We're still asking questions. Maybe that's the point. What if the future of community isn't something we design perfectly? But something we grow, imperfectly, together? What if it starts smaller than we think? What is something you already love to do? Who lives near you that you barely know? What would it look like to simply say: "Hey… want to come over?" You don't need 80 people. You could start with 4-5 neighbors. Maybe just 10 contacts on your phone. Throw open your door to food, laughter, and conversation as a first step. Because sometimes the most meaningful expressions of community don’t begin with a one year plan. They begin with a question and a door left open.

As Holy Week approaches, my mind often drifts back to an Easter I spent in Romania. I’ve tried, more than once, to recreate what I experienced there—but I’ve never quite been able to. To understand why, I have to go back a bit. In 2006, my church planned a mission trip to Romania. A group of ten women would spend their days in a hospital caring for abandoned babies. I felt drawn to go—but I hesitated. My own children were young, and the thought of leaving them for that long felt overwhelming. Over time, that hesitation turned into conviction. I sensed God asking me to trust Him—not just with the children I would care for overseas, but with the ones I would leave at home. So I made a quiet promise: If someone drops out and they call me, I’ll go. Two weeks before the trip, the call came. I said yes—but I was completely unprepared. My passport wasn’t even up to date. And yet, one by one, every obstacle moved. It was as if God was clearing the path ahead of me. Our first full day in Romania was Resurrection Sunday. We walked to church through streets lined with stray dogs and crumbling sidewalks. Trash piled up on corners. The buildings felt worn, almost colorless. It wasn’t beautiful in the way we often define beauty. But what struck me wasn’t what I saw—it was what I felt. Overwhelming joy. As we walked, every person we passed greeted us the same way: “Hristos a înviat!”— Christ is risen! And the response came just as quickly, just as joyfully: “Adevărat a înviat!”— He is risen indeed! This joy wasn’t reserved for inside the church walls. It filled the streets. It echoed on buses, in restaurants, on sidewalks. Everywhere we went, people proclaimed it to one another—strangers, friends, everyone. And when we arrived at the church, the joy only deepened. There were warm embraces, double cheek kisses, and then again that same declaration— Christ is risen! —spoken with a kind of wholehearted delight that caught me off guard. This wasn’t a culture known for outward emotion. And yet, here it was—unfiltered joy. It wasn’t manufactured. It wasn’t performative. It was just… real. I had spent my entire life attending Easter services. But I couldn’t remember ever experiencing anything quite like this. It made me wonder: Did the resurrection mean something different here? As I looked around, the marks of hardship were everywhere. Years of oppression had left their imprint on the city and its people. And I couldn’t help but think—maybe that’s why the resurrection felt so alive. Maybe hope always feels more precious when you’ve known hopelessness. I think about how people celebrate the end of a war. My father told stories of the joy that erupted when World War II ended—dancing, parades, people flooding the streets. The kind of celebration that couldn’t be contained. And I wonder… If that kind of victory stirs such joy, what should the victory over death awaken in us? Scripture gives us a glimpse. When the Ark of the Lord returned, David danced with all his might—so freely, so fully that it scandalized those watching. He didn’t hold back. He couldn’t. How much more should we celebrate our Lord’s return from the grave? Jesus conquered the enemy. He let us know the end of the story and who the victor is. Death has lost its grip. We are forgiven, restored, and held in a hope that does not run out. There is no greater cause for celebration! And yet—if I’m honest—so often our Easter joy feels… restrained. Polite. Contained within a service, rather than spilling into the streets. This Holy Week, as we remember Jesus’ final days—His words, His acts of love, His sacrifice—I’ve been asking a different question: What would life feel like if the resurrection hadn’t happened? To sit, even briefly, in that space is to feel the weight of what we’ve been given. Because we don’t live in that story. We live in the one where Sunday came. And maybe that’s the invitation—not to manufacture emotion, but to recover wonder. To let gratitude grow until it becomes something we can’t keep to ourselves. Resurrection Joy and Fresh Expressions I can’t help but think about what I witnessed in Romania and what it might mean for the future of the church—especially for Fresh Expressions. What I experienced there wasn’t a program or a strategy. It was a people so shaped by the reality of the resurrection that their joy naturally overflowed into everyday life. It happened on sidewalks. On buses. Around tables. It was good news carried in ordinary voices in ordinary streets. That’s the heartbeat of Fresh Expressions: cultivating communities where the reality of Jesus—alive, present, victorious—is felt so deeply that it can’t help but be shared. Where resurrection joy shows up in coffee shops, dinner tables, recovery groups, walking trails, and neighborhood spaces. Places where people don’t just hear “Christ is risen” once a year… but encounter the living Christ in the rhythms of everyday life. Maybe the question for us isn’t simply how to celebrate Easter better. Maybe it’s this: What would it look like to build communities where resurrection joy is so real, so tangible, that it naturally spills out into the world around us? Christ is risen. He is risen indeed.