Tuesday, 8 April 2014

We don't make the guestlist.

This has been a bit of a refrain in my life recently.

It's a reminder to set aside pride and remember who's actually in charge of the feast.  It's a reminder to set aside judgement and to love mercy.  It's a reminder to set aside control and have faith.

Jesus loved a party.  Jesus loves a party.  And invites us to party with him.  Not just in the hereafter (but that's a topic for another post).  It dampens a party when there's someone sitting in the corner humphing about the other partygoers.  But perhaps it only really spoils the party for the humpher.

We are none of us invited to the party in our finished state.  We are all works in progress.  Which means that no-one is at the party by virtue of their present state.  So we are all wrong about something.  And it won't be until the end of the pre-party that we'll figure out who is wrong about what.  And realise that we're all family anyway and we shouldn't let these petty differences come between us.

Also,  the phrase has come up in a 'we don't get to decide who's on the guestlist' context, but perhaps there's some room for 'we do not deserve to be on the guestlist'.  I don't want to beat my breast and lament my unworthiness, begging you to tell me that I'm quite nice really, but if I'm on any list it's not because I earned my place on it.  I was put on that list by the one planning the feast.  The feast is about him and what he has done to deserve it, not what I have done or who I am.  And because I've taken up the invitation extended to me, I start to become who I truly am and start to do what I am truly here to do.

At least, that's the theory.

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