Post-Hospitality
Perhaps this post shall come in drips and drabs. Really tired, body is in bad condition, mind is swirling and giddy as I type. Been two weeks of stressing over the workshop, then pushing myself to be host to Li Hsin, and now I gotta slowly pay back my hours of work. This week, no chance to eat dinner at home either.
Today. Today, JCUS CF went for Tamar Prayer Walk. Still in me is what I taught last Thurs, that the stranger is Christ and hospitality is where Christ's character is made manifest in the host and His presence made manifest in the guest. Jish shared about a lady who is sacrificing her ALL for her family, "Better for me to suffer than for 10 people to suffer". Christ who gave His life. No, SHE IS CHRIST. And in that moment, I saw Christ in every man and woman on the street. No longer "WWJD" but "What would you do if he were Christ?"
And if Christ were every man and woman on the street, then I have no say, I am rendered powerless in His grasp. He is everywhere in the least of these. The least of these, who in that split second of recognition, become the greatest of these. He bids me forward and I cannot turn away or hide.
Who, me? I don't want to face the dark streets. I don't want to open my life and my heart, to let it be torn asunder. I'll numb it and run away. Only to be called out again.
Being guests in the streets until we can take our place as hosts, being Christ to them and they to us.
Today. Today, JCUS CF went for Tamar Prayer Walk. Still in me is what I taught last Thurs, that the stranger is Christ and hospitality is where Christ's character is made manifest in the host and His presence made manifest in the guest. Jish shared about a lady who is sacrificing her ALL for her family, "Better for me to suffer than for 10 people to suffer". Christ who gave His life. No, SHE IS CHRIST. And in that moment, I saw Christ in every man and woman on the street. No longer "WWJD" but "What would you do if he were Christ?"
And if Christ were every man and woman on the street, then I have no say, I am rendered powerless in His grasp. He is everywhere in the least of these. The least of these, who in that split second of recognition, become the greatest of these. He bids me forward and I cannot turn away or hide.
Who, me? I don't want to face the dark streets. I don't want to open my life and my heart, to let it be torn asunder. I'll numb it and run away. Only to be called out again.
Being guests in the streets until we can take our place as hosts, being Christ to them and they to us.
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