A Letter To/About Gateway.
It all started as a flicker of hope in one couple; Paul and Jessica Stewart. A hope of what a church could be. Then it grew into a group of friends who wanted to do things together that both displayed God’s love and told his story of redemption and renewal. Thankfully, it’s no longer just a group of friends that are trying to do something together, it is now a church full of people that live their lives following a certain way.
The transition from “friends doing events together” to “people that live the way” is what makes The Gateway Church so beautiful. We no longer do “good things” on a scheduled day or at a certain place, but it’s infiltrated each of our lives. It’s changed the way that we talk to our coworkers, the way that we buy groceries, and the way that we spend our evenings. It’s changed our view of poverty and our opinion of wealth. It’s decided how we interact with our community and the world around us.
What once was just a group of friends that read the gospel has become a community of people - both friends and strangers - that are having their entire lives transformed by the gospel.
That’s what church is supposed to be. It’s not about memorizing lines, understanding theology, raising your hands, bowing down, or even getting that tingly feeling when the harmonies are just perfect during Beautiful Things. It’s about being transformed by the gospel.
Unfortunately, as humans, that goes against everything that we’re comfortable with. We’re really good at figuring out the rules, learning the process, and “attending.” Jesus didn’t call us to put on our church clothes. Remember the first time people put on clothes? It was because they wanted to hide their shame. Jesus calls us to a transformation of the heart, mind and soul. There is a very real threat to each of us (and to Gateway); the threat of the persona. We are always just one statement away from trying to cover our shame, hide our brokenness, and clothe our weaknesses.
I will never forget Sunday, September 13 2009. For one, it’s the day The Gateway Church opened it’s doors. But there is something else that happened that day. I was on stage singing and I saw a guy come in about 10 minutes late. He looked pretty tired and very uncomfortable. He was kind of disheveled and had an ill-fitting dress shirt on. Once he got to his seat (the end seat in the last row, of course) he looked at me kind of funny. If you know me, then you know I’m not the dressiest guy. I usually wear t-shirts and jeans on Sunday, and sometimes a hoodie. (The blazer of our generation.) Anyway, he looked at me in my t-shirt and then started unbuttoning his dress shirt. He took it off, balled it up, and put it under his seat. As the weeks passed and I got to know his story, along with many others stories, it became clear that Gateway was a place that people felt like they belonged. People that had been in rehab, kicked out of churches, and spent time in jail felt like they belonged…right next to the rest of us liars, adulterers, gluttons, and greedy Christians. Gateway has been a place that all of us could stand together and not feel shame for who we are or what we’ve done.
That. Is. The Gospel.
Emmanuel, God With Us, taking on the sin and shame of the world so that we don’t have to bear it anymore. The creator, taking what has been broken and making it new again. No longer living with us as a physical man, but living inside of us, renewing us slowly from the inside out so that each person we come into contact with has the opportunity to know and experience the Living God!
As weird as this may sound, I am so thankful to be leaving a church that embraced this to its fullest - because now I know that it’s really possible! I’m thankful because we now hope to experience this kind of community and this kind of church with our family and friends in California.
While we are overwhelmingly sad to leave Des Moines, The Gateway Church, and our friends here - and while we may feel like it’s somewhat of a dark night - we see a flicker of hope. And we now know what can happen with even the smallest flicker of hope.
