Reading: Luke 13 – 14
Then Jesus said to his host, “When you give a luncheon or dinner, do not invite your friends, your brothers or relatives, or your rich neighbours; if you do, they may invite you back and so you will be repaid.
But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.” Luke 14:12-14 NIV
What would it have been like in the days of Jesus to have the disabled come to your place for tea? As in many places in the world today — with no fancy wheelchairs to travel in, or state-funded caregivers to assist — such guests may well have required a high level of personal assistance, not to mention tolerance and humility on the part of the host, and a willingness to overcome natural reservations and spiritual taboos.
On the surface of it, the cost of hosting such a group would seem high. And, as Jesus points out, there was no likelihood of the favour being returned. For those of his audience who felt “above” those disabled folks, it would have represented a step down…
And for the disabled, despised and rejected by men as they were, and familiar with suffering, how would it have been for them to be in the presence of these “respectables”, these esteemed ones of that society? How would they have felt? Because they themselves were most certainly not esteemed.
All of which sounds curiously familiar…
“He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering. Like one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not.” Isaiah 53:2b-3 NIV
Isaiah describes it perfectly: Jesus put aside his majesty to become like those he came to save. The very same ones he would have me invite for dinner…
Jesus saw people as they really were, and he still does. He sees me as I really am. No matter what I choose to clothe myself in — respectability, wealth, position, social acceptance, an air of self-confidence — Jesus looks right through those things to see what is in my heart. And he asks that I release to him those garments that have been my source of dignity, and instead put on a new set of clothes…
“Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.” Colossians 3:12-14
There is something about those clothes, and the change of heart that is required to wear them. Somehow, they seem more suited to serving in, whoever the guests might happen to be…
Lord Jesus, please help me to see people as you see them. Help me not to suffer from a superiority complex, but instead, please work humility into the very fabric of my being, that along with all of God's children, I might be dressed well — ready and willing to love and serve.
Reading: John 13:18-38
“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” John 13:34-35
They were possibly the most influential three years in the history of mankind – those years that Jesus spent with the twelve men he had gathered around him. It was a time full of surprises, an opportunity to live with God on earth and discover first hand exactly how he wanted them (and all the rest of us) to live together. And how was that? Like him. “As I have loved you, so you must love one another.”
Love was to define them. So much so that when others “looked in” and saw that love, they would automatically assume, “Oh yes, those people must be followers of Jesus.”
When it all boils down, to “Love God” and to “Love others” are the two ultimate purposes of my life. And how much do I have to love? For God, I am to love with all my heart and soul and mind and strength. For others, Jesus simply says, “As I have loved you, so you must love one another.” On a scale of one to ten, that's a ten on both counts.
It's clear to me that I fall woefully short of what Jesus has asked me to do. He must have known that would be the case. And yet, he asked me anyway…
I find myself suddenly taken surprise by the thought that my capacity to love both God and others, whilst still walking on this planet, may be enormously greater than I have previously dared to dream possible. Because ultimately, love is from God. There is no end to his love, but if it is to flow through me, I need to be a willing and open channel, like a wide open artery not blocked up with deposits of “gunk” but open and free.
It's really the work of the Holy Spirit in me and through me that will increase my capacity to love. What's required from me is simply the willingness to say, “Holy Spirit, let's go!”
Jesus, I confess that fear of what might be required of me makes me hesitate. And yet I love the thought of being an open channel for your love. I want to reach the potential that you see in me to love you, and to love others. Please will you deal with the obstructions in me and dismantle all my silly objections. I submit them to you, and offer you my whole self. Holy Spirit, let's go!
See also Perfecting Me
“Holy Spirit, let's go!” was a favourite prayer of the late Ray Edmonds who, I believe, prayed this every morning, and took every opportunity that came his way to share Jesus with those he met.