by Emily Huff
“There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.”
-Leonard Cohen
Tomorrow marks the 10-year anniversary of when our moving truck arrived to our home with our stuff when we moved to Seattle, and the story of how we landed here in our neighborhood speaks volumes of what I have learned about hospitality through the years.
From AOL mail
Sun, Sep 9, 2012
Subject: the story of our stuff
It has taken me a while to gear up tonight to write about what happened today. Suffice it to say that our move was a nightmare. A lot of the boxed items made it fine (as I packed all of those in June and July myself), but unfortunately, the bigger sentimental items that were under the care of the moving company (dining room table, the wardrobe that my dad refinished for us, parts of the bed he made for us, and my grandmother’s desk to name a few) were not even wrapped up and were just thrown in the truck. They have lots of scratches and breaks. At a certain point, we stopped reacting in shock and just kept taking pictures of damage so that we can file claims. The kicker is that many of these items aren’t simple “Ikea replacements.” And yet, our neighbors were incredible (over 10 people showed up to help us move stuff in). And let me remind you that we only moved here on August 25th, and we already feel such a deep sense authentic community here. And at the end of the day, we are hoping that the scratches and eventual repair scars and marks will always serve as reminders to us of people’s (and God’s) grace and hospitality today and a challenge to remember that this is after all just “stuff.”
As we said in Kenya a lot, “God is good all the time. All the time, God is good.” I also was thinking about the hymn today; “It is well with my soul”– this was written by a man who had just lost his 4 daughters in a shipwreck in a storm. Goodness, we did not lose people today. It was just stuff. It truly is ALL about perspective.
I walked down to church tonight and was not surprised that the sermon seemed to be written just for me. It was all about when Jesus turned water into wine and our pastor pointed out that this story points to the bigger truth that when we face problems, we have a choice to either focus on the problem or to look to Christ. With the gift of community today, I am so thankful that we have been able lean into this truth more.
When I talked to my daughter about it tonight and asked her how she was doing and feeling, she put it best: “I’m mad, sad, disappointed, and frustrated, but I am so happy about our neighborhood.”
As I look back at this, I am struck by how beautifully grace showed up on that particular day through our neighbors. One neighbor showed up that morning in our empty house and offered to pray with me before the day began, and she got snacks and drinks that day to keep people’s spirits up. Her husband made numerous calls to reach out and rally the neighborhood to pitch in when we realized that it was going to be a long day, and we had our first glimpse that he’s a mover and a shaker and the best advocate a neighbor could ask for. Four guys in the neighborhood were among the first of the burly men to show up and recruit even more muscles to chip in with hauling boxes and furniture. The college guys renting rooms in one of their houses whom we had never met before that day created a human chain to carry boxes into the house and were worth their weight in gold. Another family invited us over to their house that night for an unforgettable steak dinner and welcomed us around their table. We experienced John 1:14 in living color that day: “The word became flesh and blood and moved into the neighborhood. We saw the glory with our own eyes, the one of a kind glory- like Father, like Son– GENEROUS INSIDE AND OUT— true from start to finish.”
I was in a fragile place that day- exhausted from the move itself and emotionally raw from leaving beloved grandparents and dear friends behind. And I was just plain done from the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day that we had had, but the way our new neighbors showed up felt like a scene out of Les Mis when Jean Val Jean is given the silver candlesticks from the priest. We did not deserve this grace, but we were experiencing God’s lavish gifts through our neighbors, and it was all I could do to not dissolve into a puddle of tears with gratitude.
A friend of ours who was a professor of English and cinema studies sent us this response after we relayed what had happened. “What a story! It’s a cautionary tale about choosing moving companies, but it’s also an IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE ending, isn’t it? Potter may still have the $8,000, but he’s alone on Christmas Eve. So thankful for all those near and far who have helped to make this side of the story WONDERFUL!”
Another friend emailed me that following week these words that I now have displayed in our kitchen symbolically in one of the frames that was broken in our move: “In the coming days, as you discover and rediscover the brokenness of life, may you be reminded of His perfecting work. May your heart continually turn to Him to be repaired and healed, and may His glory shine through.”
I was pinching myself in those early days in the neighborhood recognizing that we had landed a community that gathers around broken pieces and works together to bring healing and restoration. While I felt fragile and was literally piecing our stuff back together, I resonated deeply with these words from Ted Loder: “What can I believe, except what Jesus taught: that only what is first broken, like bread, can be shared; that only what is broken, is open to your entry; that old wineskins must be ripped open and replaced if the wine of new life is to expand.”
We experienced hospitality in a way I had not seen it lived out in a neighborhood quite like this before. I remember an article in a Young Life magazine years ago talking about Young Life leaders being “Jesus with skin on,” and I can say without a shadow of a doubt that we encountered the living Christ that day as we were welcomed so beautifully.
One year my neighbor Annie sent out holiday cards that said, “Loved people love people.” As we experienced such grace and hospitality, we then could settle in and begin to welcome others into the community who came after us. “Now that I’ve put you there on a hilltop, on a light stand – shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you’ll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven.” Matthew 5:16.
Heidi Haverkamp writes about Benedictine hospitality and I think it relates to our neighborhood as well:
“Receive every person who comes through your door as though they were bringing Jesus to you. Receive every person you meet as though you were encountering the face of Christ … Part of what makes a monastery a healthy place is to receive guests, so that the monks or sisters don’t get turned in on themselves, or imagine that they’re the center of the world, or that only they are good Christians. Part of what makes a church a healthy place is to receive guests, so that we don’t imagine we’re a club, or a secret place. A church should be a place anyone can come to meet Jesus, and a church is a place where anyone who comes can be a way for the other people there to meet Jesus. That’s why hospitality is so important. Because it helps us meet Jesus.”
I am grateful for the way I have met Jesus in profound ways here in our neighborhood over the last 10 years as He has shown us His love through our neighbors time and time again. And, I am grateful for these people with whom I share the journey that we get to keep pointing each other to the light in the broken stories we carry together.
Painting by Emily Huff
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‘In God alone there is rest for my soul,
From him comes my safety:
With him alone for my rock, my safety,
My fortress, I can never fail.’
A month ago, (before inflation might I add), my husband and I purchased an annual ‘Historic Houses’ membership which enabled us to view many beautiful castles and stately historic homes where we live in the North-East of England, and also where we holiday on the borders of Scotland, but also further afield … whenever we wish.
After one month, we’ve more than paid off our membership, with eleven months still to go of free visits! It’s been a super deal; and so far we’ve already visited five beautiful places in such a short time – Chillingham Castle, Bamburgh Castle, Lindisfarne Castle, Abbotsford and Paxton House.
So it’s opened up a brand-new world for us.
Before this, we often felt that entry fees were rather too expensive for the actual length of time we might have to spare on a fleeting visit, so we would view the outside only, and continue our walk. But now, having seen the inside, as well as the outside, of so many of these wonderful landmarks in such a short time, it has given me a real insight into a psalm which I read this morning, Psalm 62, which speaks of God as our rock, our fortress and our refuge.
These impregnable fortresses built on solid rock; these sturdy castles built to guard and protect life; these stately mansions filled with marvellous treasures; using stone of the best quality from either local quarries, or pillaged from Roman walls or structures that have fallen into disrepair, seem built to last! They look solid, secure and are well-fortified.
So when beset by worries or anxious thoughts or the troubles of this world, or hemmed in by dark spiritual powers that besiege us, or in need of sustenance with souls that feel empty and dry, we can flee to God for protection and reassurance, safe in his arms. We can benefit from deep reserves of living water within the walls of his protection, by way of prayer and stillness. We can enrich our dry and weary souls anew, by being a blessing to those who are already enfolded in the very heart of God, the blind, the oppressed, the needy of our world, his real treasures.
In God, our hearts, souls and minds find peace and contentment.
In God, we are strengthened and renewed.
In God we are refreshed and fed.
In God alone!
My Soul Finds Its Rest by Sheila Hamil
Photo by Ben Cuthbertson on Unsplash
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guest post by David Pott; all photos courtesy of David Pott. Featured photo: St Cuthbert’s coffin with monks by St Cuthbert’s Cave from the album cover of Take Up My Bones by Arð – Artist: Gabriel Danilchik
Here in the UK I am on the hunt for coffin carriers! It’s not just to walk from a hearse to a graveyard, but to assist with a challenging 130-mile pilgrimage actually carrying a coffin through northeast England from the River Tees via Durham, Newcastle and up the coast to Lindisfarne from September 12-24th. So how has all this come about?
Early in the year I became aware that the amazing illuminated Lindisfarne Gospels are coming back to home territory and will be on display at the Laing Art Gallery in Newcastle from September 17th until December 3rd 2022. I noted that already a range of activities and events were being planned, but nowhere was there any talk of pilgrimage! Why would a pilgrimage be appropriate? St Cuthbert who lived c634 – 687 was perhaps the greatest of the Northern Saints – a man of great holiness and compassion who was both a bishop and a hermit and known as a miracle worker. About a hundred years after his death, raids by Vikings led the monks on Lindisfarne to flee, taking with them in a specially made coffin, the body of St Cuthbert and the precious Lindisfarne Gospels. For 200 years the coffin travelled widely around the north of England keeping one step ahead of the Vikings, until in 995 they felt it was safe to return from Ripon to Lindisfarne. However Cuthbert, apparently communicating from his coffin, had other ideas which is why his shrine is at Durham Cathedral and why the city came to be. When you consider all those coffin journeys with the Lindisfarne Gospels back in the 7th to 10 centuries, surely a pilgrimage to celebrate the presence of the gospels in the region would be appropriate?
With mixed feelings, knowing what all this might involve, I felt that familiar stirring within and a call to propose a pilgrimage. As the vision clarified, I imagined taking a facsimile of the Lindisfarne Gospels in the coffin with us. There is an admission charge for the exhibition so limited numbers will see it, but taking a facsimile through the region would enable many more people and especially school children to see and handle it and learn its amazing story.
In March, I committed to pray daily that if this vision was on God’s heart, there would be confirmations during that month. That definitely came and included the offer of the £6,000 facsimile copy of the gospels belonging to the Religious Resources Centre for this area. It is hugely impressive and the biggest and heaviest (9kgms!) book I have seen. Also I was so encouraged when the Durham and Newcastle Dioceses agreed that the pilgrimage would be their main contribution in connection with the exhibition.
So on the strength of these positive indicators I ventured forth, but I have had my wobbles as I have faced the organisational mountain! One morning in May, when I was struggling with it all, the scriptures in Celtic Daily Prayer began with Psalm 84:5 “Blessed are those whose strength is in you, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage.” I knew that the pilgrimage preparation was beyond my own strength, but that it could be done through God’s power. I wrote in my journal that I needed to look upon this as a 4-month pilgrimage until it’s physically completed on September 24th. Moments later I was reading the next passage for that morning in John 4 which included “4 months until harvest!” I felt that was a very reassuring promise for me. There will be a harvest through this pilgrimage – I’ve no idea what that will look like, but a harvest there will be! A few days later the reading was Genesis 26:12 “Isaac sowed seed in the land and the same year reaped a hundredfold.” So as I write emails and make phone calls to people all along the route of the pilgrimage, I imagine it as sowing seeds for this harvest.
As I continue to work through the admin mountain, there are many encouragements such as the fact that around 30 schools are going to take part. A local undertaker has said he will supply us with shoulder pads, but best of all, my daughter Emily has made a most beautiful leather pouch. This will hold a facsimile of St Cuthbert’s Gospel of John which was his favourite gospel. This book, which is only 5.4 x 3.6 inches, is the oldest book in Europe which still preserves its original binding. We know that during the coffin journeys it was indeed carried round the neck in a pouch.
Another delight is the specially designed logo we will wear on our t-shirts. The letter C does not just stand for Cuthbert or for the coffin, but also for the cross which is central and also especially for Christ. Carrying the coffin is in some ways analogous to carrying the cross. The cruel cross symbolised Roman oppression and death and yet Jesus totally transformed its meaning by dying on it. In the same way, the coffin is perceived as very much associated with death and yet our coffin we trust will have a transformed meaning as it will contain the Word of Life. The symbols for love, life and light are key themes for us and very prominent in Cuthbert’s favourite gospel of John. The book symbolises the gospel as well as learning. The ducks are actually eider ducks which are often called cuddy ducks after St Cuthbert. They remind us of St Cuthbert’s great love for creation.
This statue by local sculptor Fenwick Lawson in Durham’s Millennium Place recalls the coffin journeys. There were seven coffin carriers at that time and there will be seven people taking care of the coffin and the facsimiles on this pilgrimage. We will certainly be glad to welcome others joining us to relieve weary shoulders and share the load!
Finally, in the late 10th century, Aldred, who was provost of the community in Chester-le-Street and who inserted his translation in early English into the Lindisfarne Gospels, added some valuable information at the end of the book. He mentions that Eadfrith, the Bishop of Lindisfarne “wrote this book for God and St Cuthbert.” In both the planning and the execution of this pilgrimage, we can do no better than adopt the same purpose. May all that is done “for God and St Cuthbert” be a rich source of encouragement, enlightenment and blessing for all who participate.
All the basic information about the pilgrimage is here: https://durhamdiocese.org/the-lindisfarne-gospels-pilgrimage/ It includes details about joining the pilgrimage which is happening September 12-24th.
If you would like a prayer diary to follow the pilgrimage, please email David at dlpott@gmail.com
Join Christine Sine and Lilly Lewin LIVE on Wednesday, September 7th 9:00 am PT for a discussion on Celebrating the Gift of Life. Find the live discussion in our Facebook group, Godspace Light Community Group – or stay tuned to Christine Sine’s YouTube channel to catch it later!
I have just returned from a couple of wonderful days at Lake Ketchum visiting a good friend. We went kayaking, created hypertufa pots and we observed morning and evening prayers each day from the Northumbria Community‘s wonderful book Celtic Daily Prayer. In the mornings I sat and drank in the beauty of Lake Ketchum and the delight of being so close to God’s creation. The dragonflies fascinated me and the deer feeding her young by the lake was an absolute joy. In between time we talked about life, spirituality and the tools we need to remain resilient and grounded in our faith. We also ate lots of good food, including this wonderful Norwegian bread recipe my friend often makes.
Mixing hypertufa mixture
The richness of this time of hospitality was refreshing and renewing, as good hospitality always is. And the hospitality was expressed in so many ways. There wasn’t just the hospitality my friend offered, there was also the hospitality of the beautiful place in which she lives and of the creatures that inhabit it. There was also hospitality expressed by her sister and friends who invited me into their friendship circle for a little while to make the tufa pots. And there was the generosity of another friend who came to visit while I was there.
Our hospitable garden
When I returned home I embraced yet another form of hospitality, the hospitality of returning home. The warmth of my welcome by my husband Tom and our dog Goldie made me aware of how easily we take the hospitality of a good home and relationships for granted. The delight of walking round the garden to harvest beans, tomatoes, squash and basil added to my sense of welcome. The generosity and the bounty was a wonderful gift of hospitality from God whose gifts of good food we eat every day and often take for granted.
Being a good guest, as Diane Woodrow suggested last week, is to delight in being in a place. To delight in the experiences, the food and the friendships we are presented with. And as I discovered this week, being a good guest is just as important at home as it is in someone else’s home. We are all guests, not just of God but of our families, our friends and of our world. Accepting the bounty that is provided and thanking those who have tended it in our absence is as important as thanking those we visit and share fellowship with.
Watch this video of morning prayers from Northumbria. The Celtic saints who inspired these prayers were very hospitable people. Take time to contemplate their lives and the ways they reached out to both people and the creatures of God’s world. During the time for scripture and meditation, reflect on Hebrews 13:2, here quoted from The Voice, Don’t forget to extend your hospitality to all – even to strangers – for as you know, some have unknowingly shown kindness to heavenly messengers in this way.
May God bless you and enrich your faith through this short time of worship and contemplation.
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A contemplative service with music in the spirit of Taize. Carrie Grace Littauer, prayer leader, with music by Kester Limner and Andy Myers.
Permission to podcast/stream the music in this service obtained from One License with license #A-710-756.
“Down in the River to Pray” Traditional American spiritual, public domain
Arrangement by Kester Limner, shared under the Creative Commons License, Attribution (CC-BY)
“Bless The Lord” Copyright and all rights reserved by GIA/Les Presses de Taizé
“Be Thou my Vision” Traditional Irish hymn, public domain. Arrangement by Andrew Myers and Kester Limner, shared under the Creative Commons License, Attribution (CC-BY)
“Tis a Gift to be Simple” Traditional words and music from the American Shaker tradition, public domain.
Thank you for praying with us!
reflection, prayers and photos by Carol Dixon – feature photo of St Aidan’s statue, Lindisfarne
I was first introduced to St Aidan when I attended the Duchess’s Girls’ Grammar School in my hometown of Alnwick, Northumberland and was put into St Aidan’s House (the other ‘houses’ were St Oswald, St Cuthbert & St Paulinus). I proudly wore my blue sash for 6 years as part of my school uniform and although I wasn’t taught much about him, I did discover that following his consecration on Iona in 635, he came to our area to found a monastery. It was Aidan’s arrival on the Holy Island of Lindisfarne that rekindled the flame of Christianity in Northumbria and his influence was much wider encompassing the whole of the north.
Many years later I discovered more about St Aidan while reading David Adam’s book Flame in my heart – St Aidan for today. David describes how Aidan and his small band of monks first settled on the island and marked out the land for the monastery around the edges with a low turf bank. Aidan couldn’t wait to clear the land and raise the buildings within the ‘vallum’ – a place of peace and regeneration, where locals and pilgrims could be welcomed in the guest house and given hospitality, where bread could be broken together and bread shared together in communality, where they could serve each other as they served God. But first, they must claim this wild landscape for God and banish all negative forces; and that meant prayer, an intense time of prayer to consecrate this enclosure for God.
The kind of boat Aidan may have arrived in (St Aidan’s RC church, Lindisfarne)
In his book, David imagines how the days of prayer would have unfolded (based on stories circulating about Aidan’s life written shortly after his death) and he includes his own prayers in the Celtic tradition which follow the pattern that Aidan and his brothers might have used. Most powerful was the Celtic prayer tradition of praying to God of the Seven Directions and seeking God’s blessing.
I was inspired by this wonderful way of praying – so different from my Presbyterian upbringing – and from time to time I have used this style of prayer in my own devotions. So when I was preparing some worship for St Aidan’s Day (31 August) I decided to try and write my own version of what Aidan may have prayed, based on those used by David Adam.
First Aidan would have looked eastward over the land to the sea, praying in the direction of the rising sun:
Praise God for this new day
For the blessing of the rising sun
and for the light of Christ shining in our hearts.
Bless all that come from land and sea
May they find welcome and peace and hospitality.
There would have been a time of silence, each brother adding to the prayer, letting it fill his heart: May this be a holy place, a place of peace. Let the peace be in beauty that surrounds us, a place that is a joy to the eyes, a place where heaven and earth meet.
Bamburgh from Holy Island
Next Aidan would look southwards in the direction of Bamburgh, where his friend, King Oswald (whom he had known as a young man on Iona) and his court made and maintained the laws of the land. He prayed:
Praise God for the noontide
and the powerful shining sun.
Praise God for each day and for the growing things
that flourish in its warm brightness.
May the blessing of God pour out on all near and afar.
As they prayed each brother tried to picture some of the people at the palace, not only the king and the leaders but servants and slaves, women and families, praying that all may know the liberty and joy of the children of God.
Aidan then turned to the west, to Ireland which had been his home originally and to Iona, the isle he loved and had left to answer God’s call. If the tide was in, he could still see the sun set over the sea dividing the island from the low-lying coastal flats and imagine the communities of prayer he had left.
Praise God for the evening, for the twilight calm,
the settling of the sea and the winding down of the day,
and the evening murmurings of seals and sea birds.
Praise God for times of rest and restoration.
May God’s peace surround us and keep all from harm.
Aidan turned to the north, the area of darkness and the unknown and prayed:
Praise God for the mystery of the darkness.
May the Spirit’s gentle presence illumine us in our doubts and fears
and protect us from evil this night and all nights.
May this Holy place be a place of healing and tranquillity
and all who are ridiculed, ignored, or persecuted find this a place of sanctuary.
The pilgrims’ way across the causeway from the mainland
The brothers prayed for protection and made the sign of the cross, asking God to shield and guard them. Here was a spiritual battle to be fought, every bit as real as the battle Oswald had won for God at Heavenfield near Hadrian’s great wall inland. Aidan’s thoughts too went out to the indigenous peoples, the Britons whose land had been taken, those who had been driven from their homes by the conquering Anglo Saxons and was saddened by the thought of all who had lost their lives on both sides, Christians among them.
The circle was complete, the area within the enclosure where the monastery was to be built was dedicated, but there were still three directions to be acknowledged as God’s own.
Bending to the earth he prayed:
Praise God for soil we stand on,
for the bounty of the seasons
and for Christ, the living bread, our sustenance.
May the ground beneath us be fruitful and grow
And may we be faithful stewards of this precious earth.
Next he lifted his arms heavenward and prayed:
Praise God who raises us to life in Christ, for the vast beauty of the heavenly sphere.
Praise God for vision and imagination, for the faith of our fathers
and mothers gone before, who surround us with their prayers.
May this sacred space be a place where we touch the hems of heaven
and the veil between earth and heaven parts.
Aidan, Flame of the North
The last direction was inward. Aidan listened to the waves in the silence, touched his head and prayed a prayer that would become an ancient prayer of the church through the ages:
God be in my head, and in my understanding;
God be in my eyes, and in my looking;
God be in my mouth, and in my speaking;
God be in my heart, and in my thinking;
God be at my end, and at my departing.
[Old Sarum Primer, also attributed to Pynson’s Horae, 1514]
Aidan knew that each of them, called as he had been, to serve this bare island must respect all who came to this holy place, high born or low born, for with them came Christ – Christ in each meeting, Christ in the other, best expressed in the Communion (Common Union) and in the breaking of bread together. He recognised that all who believe in God are fellow members of Christ’s body whatever their ethnicity. Aidan’s heart was aflame with love for God, for creation, and for all his fellow beings.
Holy Island bay and the cross on the heugh
So what is the relevance of this type of praying to those of us living in the busy world of the 21st century?
I believe that we can use the example of the prayer of Seven Directions, taught and lived by the Celtic saints, and adapt them for our own situations.
We can take this strange and powerful kind of praying to our hearts, into the sacred space that is within us, and pray them for our own places, for our own communities, our countries, our leaders, for our beautiful earth which we have been commissioned to care for by God and for our fellow human beings whom we have been called by Christ to love and serve. And when better to do it on and around St Aidan’s Day.
May we be richly blest as we emulate the examples of these prayer heroes of old.
My friend, retired minister Revd Stuart Brock, puts it so ably in his hymn celebrating the saints:
All Saints (Tune: Streets of Laredo. trad)
With thanks we remember the songs and the stories
of saints and great heroes from long ago day,
of Aidan and Cuthbert, of Hilda and Caedmon,
who lived out the Gospel and walked in the Way.
They followed the calling of Jesus their Master
obeying the teachings they found in God’s word.
They preached and they practised the love that they found there;
By rich folk and poor folk their teaching was heard.
And saints there are many right up to our own day,
who live quiet goodness and love in Christ’s name.
Their unsung devotion and generous giving
Seeks no recognition, publicity, fame.
We follow the footsteps of these saints and heroes
as we try to follow our Lord in our day,
and with all God’s people, both well-known and unknown,
we love and we care and so walk in Christ’s Way.
© Stuart Brock 2006 Used by permission
(written for a service for All Saints in St George’s United Reformed Church, Morpeth)
And finally, a prayer attributed to St Aidan
‘Leave me alone with God as much as may be.
As the tide draws the waters close in upon the shore,
Make me an island, set apart,
alone with you, God, holy to you.
Then with the turning of the tide
prepare me to carry your presence to the busy world beyond,
the world that rushes in on me
till the waters come again and fold me back to you.’
Statue of St Aidan
The iconic statue of St Aidan on Lindisfarne is slowly crumbling away and there is an appeal by the villagers and churches on Holy Island to raise funds to repair it. Anyone interested can look on St Mary’s Parish Church Lindisfarne Facebook page to find out how to support the appeal. https://en-gb.facebook.com › StMarysHolyIsland › posts
Flame in my Heart – St Aidan for today by David Adam publ. by Triangle ISBN 0-281-05033-3
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Celtic Prayer Cards include 10 prayers inspired by ancient Celtic saints like Patrick or contemporary Celtic writers like John O’Donohue. A short reflection on the back of each card will introduce you to the Celtic Christian tradition, along with prayers by Christine Sine and beautiful imagery crafted by Hilary Horn. Celtic Prayer Cards can be used year-round or incorporated into various holidays. Available in a single set of 10 cards, three sets, or to download.
Editor’s Note: The following reflection has been excerpted from Meditation Monday – Doorways To The Kingdom. The accompanying recipe is from Hospitality for the Gluten-Free. We hope you enjoy this series of seasonal hospitality reflections and recipes!
The kingdom of God is the ultimate place of hospitality. It is the place where friend and stranger from different cultures, ages and social strata all sit together at a great banquet feast, just as we have done with so many over the last month. It is a place where there is much fun and laughter and celebration, where barriers of class, culture and misunderstanding are broken down. Where fear becomes love, indifference becomes caring and enemies become friends. It is a place where hospitality and welcome beckon all of us towards healing and wholeness.
It is this kind of feast that I think is previewed in Isaiah 25:6
In Jerusalem, the Lord of Heaven’s Armies
will spread a wonderful feast
for all the people of the world.
It will be a delicious banquet
with clear, well-aged wine and choice meat.
Years ago, I remember seeing a painting that supposedly depicted this banquet feast of God. I say supposedly because it was a very formal dinner table set with beautiful plates and lots of silverware. But there were no people at the table and, to be honest, I cannot imagine most of my friends and acquaintances feeling comfortable with such formality anyway.
The kingdom banquet feast will be a place where not only do all feel welcomed but all feel honored and respected. None of us will feel out of place because we don’t know which utensils to use for which course. None of us will feel conspicuous because we don’t eat meat or dairy or gluten. There will be something for all of us to enjoy. And who will be serving the meal at that feast? Jesus our great and glorious servant king will.
Some of the last and most enduring images we have of Jesus combine hospitality and service – washing feet at the last supper, cooking breakfast on the beach for his disciples after his resurrection – hospitality and servanthood, the culture of the kingdom, the rich and enduring signs of welcome that we have experienced time and again over this last month.
These are the images that come to my mind as I think of Lilly Lewin’s question When you think of the kingdom of God what comes to mind? For me the kingdom of God is like the banquet feasts we have experienced in so many places on our travels. But it is not just a feast for us and a few friends, it is a feast for everyone.
~ ~ ~
One of the aspects of hospitality that I am grappling with these days is how to make meals that are inviting for my gluten-free friends. Bread and cheese have always been staples of lunches for us and the moment the basil is ready for harvest I am making pesto, but what can I make that is equally as appetizing but acceptable to my gluten-free friends?
Dried Tomato, Olive Tapenade is one possibility. Even those that don’t normally like olives love it.
I have adapted this recipe from one I found in the Australian Women’s Weekly Tomato Cookbook. Also I use tomatoes I dry from our garden rather than bought ones which are always soaking in oil that then needs to be discarded. The recipe is also at its best when the basil and oregano are picked straight from the garden.
- 1 cup drained sun-dried tomatoes
- 2 tablespoon olive oil
- 1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
- 2 cloves garlic
- 1 tablespoon chopped fresh oregano leaves
- 1/2 cup chopped fresh basil
- 1/2 teaspoon cracked black peppercorns
- 2/3 cup pecans
- 1 cup pitted kalamata olives
Process all ingredients until smooth. Spoon tapenade into cold sterilized jars; seal immediately or store in the refrigerator (stores 4-6 weeks).
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