A word of advice: Don’t skip the genealogies in the Bible. You know what I’m talking about. The parts that go:

Abraham was the father of Isaac, and Isaac the father of Jacob, and Jacob the father of Judah and his brothers, and Judah the father of Perez and Zerah by Tamar, and Perez the father of Hezron, and Hezron the father of Aram, and Aram, the father of Aminadab…

We’re often tempted to skip over the genealogies to get to the “good parts.” But don’t do that. Here’s why:

I recently had the privilege of fielding some good, hard, holy questions from a kid in our congregation. This is one of the perks of my job. She spent a good twenty minutes asking me anything.

“So, like, where is God?”
“Is heaven a real place?”
“Will there be a castle?”

Then she asked, “What happens during baptism?”

I explained how it all goes down — about how we ask some questions, say some prayers, play in some water, attend to the Spirit, and say a few more prayers.

“Okay,” she said before asking a follow-up: ”But what’s different because of baptism?”

I paused, delighted in the question, and said, “What’s different? Everything.”

I continued. “In baptism, you are different because God’s love fills your heart with kindness, friendship, and compassion. And then, when you share that kindness, friendship, and compassion with your friends, God’s love fills their hearts, too. And they’re different. And then, when they pass it on to their friends, this whole world changes, little by little, all because of God’s love. Everything is different.

It was such a good question. And I believe it to be true. But if I’m honest, there have been moments this week when it’s been hard to believe that everything is different. As we continue to hear heart-wrenching stories and see unconscionable images of violence and devastation from the Middle East, there have been moments I haven’t known what to do with that. Moments I’ve felt kicked in the gut. Moments the words just haven’t come very easily. Moments when all I can pray is the simple one-word prayer Catherine shared with us a few weeks ago: “Please.”

There have been moments this week when I’ve wondered if the world will ever be different.

But then I thought back to that question: “What’s different because of baptism?” And I thought about the one who asked it. And I thought about the genealogies.

Because in a genealogy, every new name represents a faith passed down. Every new name represents kindness, friendship, and compassion shared. Every new name represents the world becoming a little more different. A little more hopeful. A little more just. A little more compassionate. A little more whole.

I share all of this because this week, we’re launching our 2024 generosity and stewardship effort. It’s something we do every year around this time as a way of engendering faithfulness, inviting your commitment, and planning our mission and ministry for the coming year.

This is me doing the thing I hate doing the most in this job: I’m asking for your support and commitment to help us continue this vital work.

Each week, I have the privilege of hearing stories from people who are becoming different because of how you’ve shared God’s love in and through The Local Church. I see it happen, too.

I see it when teenagers are empowered to serve God, learn new skills, and build relationships on a mission trip to Appalachia.

I see it when LGBTQ+ persons find belonging in a church — perhaps for the first time — at a Pride Celebration service.
I see it each Sunday when frazzled parents get a minute to catch their breath.

I see it when young professionals discover real friendship in a world where that can feel elusive.

I see it when those with church hurt and friends without a spiritual home find the healing and home they’ve been yearning for.

And I see it when people in need experience hope through diapers donated, hygiene items collected, food shared, winter clothing distributed, and so much more.

This is us. This is what it looks like to be an unapologetically inclusive, Jesus-centered community, and I’d love to continue this vital work of sharing God’s love in 2024. But we can’t do it without your support.

For the last few weeks, we’ve been crunching numbers and working to chart a course for next year. And y’all, it’s ambitious. It’s a little terrifying, but I also kind of love it and believe so much in this mission.

Here’s the deal: Our team is projecting a significant increase in expenses in 2024 to account for the incredible growth and momentum of The Local Church over the last year. We anticipate increased staffing needs and greater investment in the church's overall ministry, mission, and operations to keep up with the growth and continue to plant new seeds.

We will also pay apportionments for the first time in 2024. In our United Methodist tradition, apportionments are financial commitments paid by each established church to help fund shared ministries and support the work of the wider church. We’ve been exempt as a new church, but this year, we get to offer our share for the good of the whole. It means we’re growing up!

Finally, as has become our custom, we’ll continue to set aside 10% of the prior year’s tithes and offerings as a tithe back to the community and world in mission.

But that’s not all. In 2024, we’re getting serious about a more permanent physical space for The Local Church. We are in the process of creating a physical space task force that will help us find our home. (I’m calling it our Space Force, and you can’t stop me.) If you want to join our Space Force, fill out the form here.

Plus, when you make your 2024 financial commitment, you’ll have the chance to briefly offer your voice about what a home for The Local Church should have.

I am so excited about all that is ahead. In five short years, this community is different because of God’s presence in and through The Local Church. If you’re reading this, you have been a part of that. Would you help keep it going? Don’t skip the genealogy. Every commitment you make to The Local Church represents someone else who can experience God’s love through this unapologetically inclusive, Jesus-centered community.