by Chris Matthews, Director

A hill preacher once prayed, “God send me anywhere as long as I can see it from my front porch.” Like a fable, this fiction has a truth that we must consider. How far is too far for the Gospel’s sake?

The first word of the Great Commission is “Go:” not “wait,” not “gather,” but “go.” And not just go anywhere—go farther. Jesus did not say, “Stay where it is comfortable and convenient.” He said, “Go ye into all the world.” The heartbeat of the Great Commission has always pulsed outward, beyond familiar borders, faces, and languages.

When Jesus walked this earth, He was constantly moving toward the next town, the next village, the next soul. He said plainly, “Let us go into the next towns, that I may preach there also: for therefore came I forth” (Mark 1:38). That simple statement reveals the very purpose for which He came. His ministry was not stationary but advancing—never content with those already reached, always compelled by those who had not yet heard. He came to seek and to save that which was lost.

The apostles followed the same pattern. From Jerusalem to Judea, to Samaria, and unto the uttermost part of the earth—their direction was always outward. The book of Acts records a missionary movement that could not sit still. When persecution arose, the disciples “went everywhere preaching the Word.” Paul was driven by the same conviction when he wrote, “Yea, so have I strived to preach the gospel, not where Christ was named, lest I should build upon another man’s foundation” (Romans 15:20). He was not content to strengthen only the existing churches; he pressed toward regions beyond, longing to take the Gospel where it had not yet been heard. Shall we not first consider the unreached, then the misreached, before considering staying near home?

Sadly, many today have reversed the order. We consider near
before we ever consider far. We often invest time, effort, and resources in what benefits us, while the fields that are truly white unto harvest remain untouched. Churches raise funds for new buildings and better technology while millions still live and die without ever hearing the name of Jesus Christ. We are not wrong to care for our own community—but we are disobedient if we do so while ignoring the rest of the world.

The Great Commission is not sequential but simultaneous. Jesus did not say, “Once you finish in Jerusalem, then move on to Judea.” He said, “Ye shall be witnesses unto me both in Jerusalem, and in all Judea, and in Samaria, and unto the uttermost part of the earth.” The word both means that our vision must stretch to every circle at once.

To consider far before near does not mean neglecting our neighbors; it means seeing them through the same lens as the nations. It means we begin with God’s global purpose in mind and work backward to where we stand. If our first concern is the uttermost, our local efforts will be strengthened as our burden for the lost intensifies.

The truth is, our hearts tend to shrink to the size of our routine. We see only what is before us, and we justify it as faithfulness. But Jesus said, “Lift up your eyes, and look on the fields; for they are white already to harvest.” The problem is not the harvest—it is our eyesight. We must lift our eyes before we can lift our feet. Vision always precedes motion. When we look far, we begin to move far.

It may seem impractical to think about the farthest corners of the world when the needs nearby are so great. But that has always been the tension of obedience. The needs will never end at home—but obedience to Christ’s command must begin with His priorities, not ours. The Gospel should not stop with us. It is a river, not a reservoir.
Every believer must ask, “Am I going, sending, or standing in the way?” Every church must ask, “Are we structured around our comfort or His command?” The call to go is not a suggestion for a few; it is the identity of all who follow Christ. Whether our path leads across the street or across the sea, the direction must be outward.

The task is great, but the command is clear: Go. Go where Christ is not known. Go where there is no church, no Scripture, and no witness. Go where others have not gone because the cost is high and the path is hard. Go, because He went first.

To consider far before considering near is to think like Christ, to plan like the apostles, and to live like those who still believe that the Gospel is the power of God unto salvation, to every creature.

Spring 2026

by Chris Matthews, Director

It is easy to forget that the partnership between churches and missionaries is not merely financial—it is a partnership for the sake of souls. The missionary labors in the field so that churches can reach their fields. When communication between them becomes mechanical, the partnership begins to lose its vitality. The Great Commission was never designed to be carried out by individuals working in isolation. It is a shared work, with each contributing to the same spiritual goal: the salvation of souls. When communication thrives, the partnership flourishes. When it withers, the work weakens.

Modern missions often lose that personal touch. Churches give, missionaries write, and the relationship can quietly slip into a business arrangement—efficient, polite, and lifeless. The missionary’s letter becomes a report to donors, and the church’s offering becomes a bill to pay. The warmth of fellowship is replaced with the status quo of obligation. But missions is not a commercial transaction; it is a spiritual partnership. The missionary is not a contractor hired to do evangelism on behalf of the church. He is a representative of the church, extending the church’s reach to places its members cannot go. Likewise, the church is not a customer demanding results; it is a co-laborer sending reinforcements into the battle.

True missionary communication breathes life back into that relationship. When missionaries write with sincerity and transparency, sharing not only their victories but also their struggles, the church learns to pray more specifically and to care more deeply. A simple line like, “Please pray for strength,” may mean much more than physical fatigue—it may be the missionary’s quiet way of saying, “I am discouraged, but I am holding on.” Churches that read between the lines, that listen with spiritual ears, will hear the heartbeat of their missionaries and respond with compassion and prayer.

Likewise, churches must learn to communicate back. A missionary who spends months or years overseas may go long stretches without a single personal note from supporting churches. He may faithfully send letters, photos, and updates, yet hear little in return. A short handwritten letter, a kind email, or even a message from a Sunday school class can make a tremendous difference. It reminds the missionary that he is not forgotten—that his partners at home are praying, watching, and rejoicing with him. Real communication is not one-way. It is not the missionary always speaking and the church always reading. It is conversation, fellowship, and mutual encouragement.

The danger of purely transactional communication is subtle but profound. When churches expect constant excitement or visible results, missionaries feel pressured to perform. Reports become polished highlights instead of honest reflections. The numbers may look good, but the soul of the message is lost. Some missionaries begin to feel that their worth depends on how impressive their letters sound or how quickly they can produce measurable outcomes.

For communication to be real, it must be relational. Churches can cultivate this by praying for specific needs rather than general ones. When a missionary mentions an upcoming event, sickness, or ongoing struggles with government paperwork, a church that takes time to pray and follow up afterward becomes a personal part of that story. The church and the missionary share the journey and later the victory. It has never been easier for such communication to take place because of the technology we use daily. When churches and missionaries learn to communicate in this spirit, both sides are enriched. The church gains a living awareness that missions is a living extension of its own ministry. The missionary, in turn, draws renewed strength from knowing that his partners are not distant financiers but fellow soldiers who stand beside him in prayer. That is the essence of real missionary communication: shared joy, shared sorrow, shared work.

If the church views missions as a distant department, it will lose its heart for the world. If the missionary views churches merely as sources of funding, he will lose his connection to the body that sent him. But when both see themselves as “labourers together with God” (1 Corinthians 3:9), the lines between sender and sent blur into one united effort. The church becomes present on the field through communication, prayer, and giving; the missionary extends the church’s witness into places unknown. Communication becomes communion.

Real missionary communication is not paperwork; it is partnership. A partnership should have unity within it because of a shared mission and purpose. It is not “us and them,” but us together seeking the salvation of lost souls and planting churches to train believers to carry on the same purpose.

Both missionaries and churches need to develop ways to foster genuine and personal communication. Missionaries should certainly care deeply for the churches supporting them: “And by their prayer for you, which long after you for the exceeding grace of God in you” (2 Corinthians 9:14). And likewise, the churches should show care in ways that go beyond financial support. “I thank my God upon every remembrance of you, aways in every prayer of mine for you all making request with joy, for your fellowship in the gospel from the first day until now” (Philippians 1:3–5).

Winter 2025-26