“For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them.”
Matthew 18:20
The door opens and they drift in over time. Some bring much, some bring nothing, some bring home cooked , some bring frozen, some come late. All is acceptable and appreciated and there is always an abundance.
Some come expectant, some come ready to give, some walk in hesitant and others not sure. Some are completely oblivious to what is going on at any time and some create warmth and love wherever they go. All is acceptable and appreciated and there is always abundance.
It is the smile across the table, the comfort of a hug, it is sometimes the conversations and then sometimes simply the silence. It is listening to natter that is important for someone to voice, and then other times a pointed conversation that guides and challenges. It is knowing that whatever you bring to this safe place, there will be above all, acceptance, grace and love.
There are teens who cancel other opportunities to choose to be there. There are singles who find family when we are together. There are grandparents who love to be with the energy of youth and young people who love to make the elderly laugh. Where the widow is not only embraced, but highly valued and cared for. Where men truly listen and speak into the young men’s lives about things that matter. Where the woman teach us by the way they live out their lives with grace and humility, in the simple things of being fantastic cooks to the complexity of life’s pressing issues. They don’t all huddle together in their own age groupings, for they long to connect with everyone. There are no devices at the table, just the desire to engage, eat and share their week together.
It is simply a Sunday afternoon in my house. I love to open my house to the faith community I belong to and sit back and watch God enter as we commune with Him and each other. It is our act of worship and prayer. There was no formality, no official words… but God was there. He was glorified and we were all uplifted by being together. He brought peace, filled our tummies and souls and we are stronger by being together.
It is a prayer beyond 2 dimensional words. It is 4 or 5 dimensional. I could not manufacture this, nor could I create this, plan or organise it. The only thing I am asked to do is to open the door of my house. The only thing we are asked to do is to walk through the door, bringing what we have, big, small or nothing at all, but simply come. It is when we come, He meets us.
It has been said “Ït takes a village to raise a child”. I agree! But who decides what the village looks like? To be honest if the church doesn’t don’t take the question of “who decides what the village looks like?” seriously, then we can’t complain when someone else does. So, when 50,000 young people are leaving the church per year, when are we going to consider what the village must look like? Well, I know what type of village I want to be a part of and this Sunday was a reflection of what it means to live in a village that reflects His love. It is a village I have seen raise my children. There is nothing flash about it, it will never make the news, or probably draw thousands, but it will draw those who want to, to live deeply together and in Him.
My greatest and only sadness of that day was those who did not come, those who cannot come, those who will not come, those who are too busy to come, those who don’t accept His invitation to commune and pray together. My prayer is for us in this faith community, that we never take for granted what He continues to bless us with and that we never hide it and conceal it, for He calls us to share this love wherever we go. We are simply called to “open the doors” and “open the eyes of our heart”, acknowledge and thank Him for our time together, which gives us strength to be His light in a world that longs for acceptance, love and grace.
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