When grace is needed

By October 24, 2016The Table, Uncategorized
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I hate it when I feel rejection. When grace is needed but all I offer is rejection.

I hate what it does to my insides.

My mind races with conversations, sentences, comebacks and clever lines.

I want to point the finger but am aware that pointing back at me are four other fingers each saying, “You’ve done it too.”

I wish I was good at grace, at forgiveness, at seeing the sacred at work.

But I’m not.

I’m clumsy.

when grace is needed

when grace is needed

when grace is neededI think of that woman arriving uninvited to a meal where Jesus sat.  The alabaster jar in her hands.

She wasn’t part of the glittering crowd that our world says is acceptable.

But she had courage and wholeheartedness.

She had real and authenticity.

Broken, looking for wholeness she begins to pour the perfume over Jesus’ feet and to wipe his feet with her hair.  She begins to kiss his feet so desperate was she for wholeness, for belonging, for love, for renewal and for redemption.

when grace is needed

The best and the brightest turn their eyes away.  Their soul muttering.  Their view of Jesus changing.

I am aware that I too have turned my eyes away, my need for right filling my heart with mutterings, changing how I see the sacred spaces at work.

I am too often this Pharisee called Simon, wanting the meal table to be perfect, to mix with those that are like me, to have at the table the brightest and the best, to not want it cluttered by those who don’t meet my glittering best. To want only those I choose.

when grace is needed

In that moment of rejection I am aware that I can no longer see the sacred space.

I can no longer see the power of love, of acceptance, or redemption, of wholeness seeping into hearts that have simply gone too long, too hard, too broken.

I listen as Jesus sets some boundaries with Simon and I know he could be speaking to me.

That the perfect of the table isn’t nearly as important as what happens at the table.   That the glittering crowd isn’t what makes the table.

I know that the sacredness of the table is being able to come to the table uninvited, broken, tired, weary, burnt by life and to discover that God is present and he is good and that there is always space for one more.

This is why I am part of the table, part of a church community.

I want to learn how to love instead of reject.

I want to be part of seeing the sacred at work.  To see holiness at work in my own heart and in the heart of others.  To be able to give the invitation and to say there is room for one more, He is here and He is good.