Each year, I typically worship with three different groups of believers; my home congregation in Houston, my adopted Christian family in Vietnam, and the church my brothers/sisters-in-law are part of in Wichita, Kansas. Twice in the past year, I worshiped with churches in the DFW area due to weddings but for the most part, these are the places where I gather on Sundays and Wednesdays with the saints. The past two weeks I spent in Kansas, alternating times with my brothers, including two Sundays and a Wednesday. On the first Sunday, which was Christmas Eve, a rarity happened- I got sick. I wasn't the only one- ten of the fourteen of us at Dave and Sally's caught the bug- but it caused me to stay in bed for worship. Five days ago, New Years' Eve, was the only Sunday worship service I was able to be part of. Dave and Sally and clan by then were in Oklahoma so I sat with Scott and Karen on a bitterly cold Midwestern Lord's Day. I've been there enough over the years to know many faces and more than a few names. They are very friendly, we had a good Bible study and sermon, the communion thoughts were excellent, and we sang hymns of praise joyfully. It was good for us to be there.
I didn't mention that both Dave and Scott are elders of their congregation. In fact, Scott was in charge of opening and closing the service that morning. They have a tradition of baking small loaves of home made bread and giving it to visitors. I've been to several churches that do this and it's a nice touch; baking can be a ministry in and of itself. But usually, the guest is encouraged to pick one up in the lobby before they go home. This past Sunday, they did something new or at least I don't remember it happening this way before. Right before the dismissal prayer, one of the brothers went through the assembly looking for visitors. He was accompanied by a precious little girl carrying, you guessed it, home made loaves of bread. He pointed me out and with a sweet smile, she handed me the delicious treat you see above, which was filled with chocolate chips! I ate the whole thing in one setting when I returned to Houston. Perhaps if Michael's sermon had been about self control......
You can't see it but on the back of the tag on the gift for the guests was the quotation of Jesus from the Sermon of the Mount, "I am the bread of life." In fact, there are numerous references to the Savior and bread in the Scriptures. Satan tempted Him to make it, it was the objective in the Friend At Midnight Parable, Jesus made a bunch of it in two feedings, and He told the crowds they only followed Him because of He gave it to them. (And that is by no means an exhaustive list.) What I liked Sunday was the way the church handled the distribution. I'm an introvert and if it's up to me to go and ask for something from a stranger, I'll go hungry instead. But they were searching for me and the others of my kind. (Part of me is hurt a bit that I'm still considered a guest in spite of my many visits!) They didn't embarrass those who might have been there the first time, always a dread I have when visiting. They were gracious and kind and thoughtful, just like all of us should be in our interactions, with those inside and outside our religious communities. It also made me conscious that I'm not sure I could identify exactly who is and who isn't a member of my congregation, something for me to work on! I don't make resolutions but I will take a public vow: I promise that I WILL return to East Point some future Sunday morning but it won't be for the bread. Well, maybe just a little bit.
Applicable quote of the day:
“Bread for myself is a material question. Bread for my neighbor is a spiritual one.”
Nikoli Berdyaev
God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1
www.hawleybooks.com
E-mail me at steve@hawleybooks.com
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