Come & See
As I gripped my boys’ hands, waiting to cross Old Buncombe on Sunday morning, I silently begged Holy Spirit to assure their little hearts that they belong at Village Church--that God’s Kingdom, God’s family, is for them. In that moment I realized the concern for them reflected my own fear, my own sense of scarcity. Every time I come to church, there’s a niggling sense I might be edged out by the other hungry people pouring in through the doors. Many voices throughout my life have told me I must compete for a place at the table, or else get lost in the crowd. How can this wound be healed? Can a life-long beggar learn to trust the abundance of the Feast?
With these doubts swirling, I knelt at the rail after receiving bread and wine on Sunday to pose the very real, very scary, very vulnerable question, “Will there be enough for me, Jesus?” I was answered by an echo of the last words of Michael’s sermon, “Come and see.”
When the beloved disciple John penned his gospel, he compelled his audience not with logical outlines, creeds or mission statements but by pulling up an imaginary chair to Jesus’ powerful interactions with people. “Come close, watch this!” we hear John say. “Look at what happens when people ask questions, pay attention to how Jesus responds!” And those willing to engage with Jesus, to be seen by Him and healed by Him, then turn to others with the same simple but earnest invitation. “Come and see! See the One who told me all I ever did...could this be the Messiah? All I know is that I was blind, but now I can see.”
Come and see--no assurance beforehand of how things will work out or what exactly will be provided. Just an invitation to faith, an invitation to experience Truth through participation. Michael spoke of the risk and blessing we open ourselves up to as we choose to participate. Kill the lamb, spatter the lintels. Step into the churning waters. Forgive your brother. Keep the feast. The only way to see if you belong, to see if there’s enough, is to come. In faith, show up--questions, fears, wounds and all. That’s when God also shows up.