Dear friends of Harvest,                                                    (Our final gathering was February 10, 2013)

I thought it would be fitting to post an open letter for anyone to read, regardless of your geographical location or recent proximity to Harvest.  I know that the church has been a part of many lives, some from a distance, some for only a short time, others for a more significant season of life.  Regardless, we are sure the closing of this little 9 year old church makes an impact; and, thus, it deserves a written goodbye.

First, an explanation. From the very beginning, Harvest was a risk.  Tamara and I knew this when we started the church - in fact, the first church planting bootcamp we attended warned us that planting a church would be one of the most difficult things we could do, and for some (wonderful) reason, we still decided to go ahead with it!

The reason, of course, was a sense of God's call.  As a late-twenties married couple with one young son who were taking a step of faith after seminary, we were desperately searching for a church community that would engage the culture around us with the love of Jesus in a relevant way. We were looking for a “missional” community, really (though we didn't know what to call it at the time).  And it just so happens that shortly after that, we found one, in you.

At the end of 9 months of gathering at Faith E. Free and in our home, we decided to move ahead with planting this group as a church in Manhattan, even with several people moving away group within a few weeks of planting!  In truth, from the very beginning, Harvest was in flux - and, despite occasional victories, we honestly never reached a point where we were established or stable or sustaining.  Our congregation the first years were almost completely different from our congregation in year 4, and turnover and transition has been one of the constants throughout our 9 year journey.

And there's a reason for that, too - we were a very young church in a very transient community.  When Tam and I began the church, we, too, were young - not yet established in our life, not having a set career and ministry direction, and about to get started with bringing two amazing girls into the world.  We were, in short, unestablished.  And in retrospect, we realize how rare it is for a church plant to survive when it consists of such a young, unestablished, transient congregation. 

In other words, it really is a gift and a miracle that we made it this far.  We thank God for this gift. 

And we also thank you. For co-laborers and friends.  We have been blessed by seeing church leaders grow tremendously over the years and learn to care, direct and serve well-beyond their capabilities.  This was our experience; and while we as leaders were not perfect in these pursuits, I am confident that we did our best in obeying God in our leadership roles, and that He is pleased. 

If nothing else, the closing of a church like ours can bring closure.  This is sometimes the only way for all of us to experience the reconciling of the good and the bad of our experience.  This is the only way for negative things to fade into the background, so that all of the positive, wonderful things can emerge in the foreground of our memory.

So, my encouragement, and my prayer, for everyone, is to seek and find closure in this way regarding your time at Harvest. 

Because, in the end, a beautiful work of God really did occur.  A move of the Spirit really was underway.  And in the end, God desires to continue this work - indeed, to complete this work - in each and every one of our lives.  And as we were reminded just a few weeks ago in Acts 2, the Spirit is still moving, the church of Jesus is still being built, and God's mission is still alive and active in our city and the world.

Let's not let anything hold you back from joining in. 

For those who are part of Harvest today, and for all who have called Harvest home at some point in the past 9 years, I am grateful.  Harvest was, indeed, always a risk.  And some of you, knowingly or unknowingly, agreed to risk along with us, to push out into murky, deep, and unknown waters for the sake of this new thing God was doing.  You believed that a better church was possible for the sake of God's mission, and some of you have sacrificed so much to see it come to pass.

And I am grateful.

It may be that what we learned came in difficult on-the-job lessons that were part of an unexpected crash course called “the local church 101,” but there is no doubt that God was teaching us through it all, and there is no doubt that God was pleased with our earnest desire to serve Him, to build His church, to join in His mission.

Very, very pleased.

I am pleased that He knows all of our weaknesses, all of our unrighteousness, all of our failures and that He loves us still. 

He loves us enough to chase us down, relentlessly, like a Father running to meet His lost son, embracing him, kissing him.

He even loves us enough to use us, like he did Elijah and Habakkuk, in all of our strange imperfections, to bring good news to others.

In the days, weeks, months, and years ahead, may we all come to know, in a far greater way, this powerful, pursuing, rescuing love of God in our lives. 

And may we join Him, free from all guilt, condemnation, or accusation, in offering that love to this community we love and to the world we’ve been sent out into. 

To Him be the glory in the church, in Manhattan, everywhere, forever, always.  

Grace and peace to you all. 

     David, Tamara, Josh, Charis and Ellia Robinson

“But I do not consider my life of any account as dear to myself, in order that I may finish my course, and the ministry which I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify solemnly of the gospel of the grace of God.”    (Acts 20:24)