Merry Christmas, Friends...
...whether Christmas is good for you or difficult, here's a short Communion meditation to help you think about Jesus
Hi friends! In lieu of a big fancy post, I thought I’d share with you a communion meditation I wrote for church last Sunday. The scripture that goes along with it is Matthew 10:5-15; it might help with context if you head on over and read it first, and then come back to this li’l devotional.
You know that person, the one who always goes and invites extra people to the party at the last minute? Or how about the one who welcomes near-strangers to sit at the already-full table in the restaurant? Or that child who collects and feeds all the stray cats in the neighborhood? For those of us who prefer a few boundaries— and a little breathing room— these folks can make us feel pretty nervous and uncomfortable. But that was Jesus, always inviting, inviting, inviting.
“The door is open,” he’d exclaim, waving his hands wildly. “Come on in!”
Sometimes, just when you thought you’d finally gotten to know, and kind of like, all the people with you who were following Jesus too, Jesus would go and invite someone to the party who you either couldn’t stand or who’d wronged you in some way. You wouldn’t say it, but you’d think, “How could you, Jesus?”
There were some people in Jesus’ day who only ate with like-minded folks because they all followed the same rules— wash your hands twice before eating, don’t sit too close to someone you’re attracted to, you know, purity things like that. And Jesus, always the maverick, knowing this, sent his motley crew of disciples, most of whom they wouldn’t approve of, to knock on their doors, walk right into their houses, and let them know the kingdom of Heaven had come near! “If they don’t listen to you,” he told his disciples, “turn your back on them and walk away.”
“But Jesus,” we might say, “how rude! You’re not respecting these people’s boundaries. You’re just barging into their houses and making them uncomfortable with your kingdom-of-heaven proclamation! Give ‘em a chance!” And Jesus shakes his head. “If they don’t listen, leave, shake the dust off your feet, peace out.”
The image is jarring, isn’t it? If folks aren’t open to this message that the kingdom of heaven has come near; if they don’t welcome this kingly announcement, this royal proclamation, turn right around and leave.
If I’m honest, this makes me uncomfortable. Kind of like that story about the prophet Isaiah preaching in the nude, or the one about Ezekiel cooking his food on a steaming pile of manure. But Jesus, prophet-like, really wanted to drive home a point— when it comes to the Kingdom of heaven, it’s here, right now, and there really aren’t any boundaries around it— God’s love is open to everyone.
To everyone. The loud ones, the smelly ones, the awkward ones, the ones-we-can-hardly-stand; heck, even the ones who don’t want anything to do with God. Because that’s how God is. God’s arms are always open, her table always set, and as to food? There’s plenty enough to go around. God’s hospitality has no boundaries, and it knows no bounds.
And really, this is good news for all of us, isn’t it? The secrets you carry; the shame you hold; the grudge you can’t let go of; the hurt lurking in your heart; your unbelief? It doesn’t matter. Not when it comes to the kingdom of Heaven. The doors are flung wide open, won’t you come in?
Oh God, we are ever so happy your arms are always open, your doors flung wide. There’s room in your heart for all of us, isn’t there? We are glad you’ve brought us together around your table, and grateful you welcome everyone the same. Sometimes, we forget your generous hospitality; keep reminding us of it. Help us remember as we remember Jesus. In Jesus’ name, amen.