It dawned on me that the people I grew up with no longer went to church. And to make it worse, I couldn’t even picture them in a church.
I grew up in Western Sydney to immigrant parents. My dad left Iran to avoid religious persecution for being a Christian, and my mum left Germany to be a missionary. After many years overseas, they moved to Australia to reach Muslims in Western Sydney. Growing up here, I experienced what many 2nd generation Aussies did: I was caught in a cultural no-man’s land, because my parents were foreigners, and I wasn’t like the locals.
My friends and I tried attending lots of youth groups, but we struggled. We didn’t get the humour, and we didn’t understand the preaching. We thought different, we acted different, we felt different. We felt like the church didn’t understand how we ticked, or what we really needed to hear. Eventually, my friends stopped going because they felt like outsiders.
That’s why I want to plant a church. My heart goes out to the people of Western Sydney. I want to give them a home in the church. A home that speaks their language, speaks in their rhythm, and removes any unnecessary barriers to the gospel.
I’ve been to many beautiful places in the world, but I can’t get Western Sydney off my mind. I’ve stood on top of the Alps, and walked through old great cities of Europe, but my mind always comes back to the area where I grew up… The streets, the old arcades, the buildings, the alleys, the parks…
For the last 5 years, I’ve been envisioning how to reach the people God has put on my heart. It’s been a circular process of praying, dreaming, researching, planning, testing and learning. I ask myself: “What would it take to get these people back into a church meeting Jesus?”