The gate stands open, the path wide, the way a mystery. We journey the road before us, a following the footsteps trodden by saints of old. We sojourn along the way.
We walk thankful, open hands and open hearts, to the One who saved us. Our hearts cling to grace so great we cry unabashed tears that we were washed anew, made whole, to finally breathe air so fresh our hearts are made alive.
Across the way, we see the walking dead and our hearts tighten at the sight. They stand stolen in the midst of strange toil. Lost…alone…without a home.
We look away, our judgments arise. They don’t know.
We walk unmoved. Shaking our heads at their ignorance, their blatant sin and disregard for a Kingdom they cannot see. We pass the dying—beggars and thieves, liars and prostitutes.
We gorge ourselves on grace, on a banquet spread deep and wide. The wine drips from the corners of our mouth as we stuff another chunk of bread in our mouths, dipped in honey so sweet.
We hold tight the grace we’ve been given. We close the doors with quickening fear to the outsiders, We must protect ourselves! we say. We disassociate. We set our eyes on the homeland.
We forget…oh how we forget.
We follow a Savior who walked homeless. A man who dined with sinners and prostitutes. A man who lounged at the table and laughed with the worst of the these. A man who looked into the eyes of people and saw them…not their sin.
We forget this isn’t the country club. There is no prerequisite, no list to check off. This isn’t dress your best and maybe you’ll get in. There is no income requirement, no educational standard, no racial preference.
We forget the welcome we once received. We forget,
The Kingdom of God is an open feast for the homeless.
Joining in 5 Minute Friday this week. The prompt was welcome.