It shouldn't come as a surprise, although it does... that I once again found myself sitting down for a conversation with Jesus.
Now, before you think I've gone off my rocker... hear me out!
The Jesus with whom I was meeting looked little like any of the "blue-eyed, blonde-haired" images of Jesus we so often see... fair skin, white, European. This man, instead showed some darker features, beginning with his eyes and hair and then even his skin was a bit... Mediterranean. He looked to be about the same age as Jesus when he was at the height of his ministry. And something about his appearance gives the message that he's worked hard up until this point in his life... perhaps not carpentry, but some sort of physical labor for sure.
As we spoke, that hunch became truth. The Jesus before me is a seasonal worker, mostly landscaping, and with cooler temperatures upon us and the snow beginning to pile up, the employment he holds has dried up for the season and he's finding himself on hard times.
This young father came to me, in part, because we had met previously... when times had become difficult and the needs of his family were challenging to meet. He came to our church previously and again this time because something in our culture, for the churched and the unchurched, still says that the church is a place to seek refuge and resources. He came to us looking for help... and I'm glad he did.
I am glad to have had the opportunity to reconnect, to check in on how his family is doing. I am also glad that he felt comfortable enough to return. And I am pleased because as I said in the beginning, seeing this man was as if I was meeting Jesus... again.
I say again because I have had many other times when someone has been seated across from me sharing their story, their desires, and their needs. And in many of those conversations, I thankfully have noticed how something within me opens up to the experience. Something draws me closer to the one with whom I'm speaking. Something fends off any doubt or cynicism I may feel as they unpack their story for me, and I am able to be fully present, fully trusting, fully in awe of what a holy experience it really is.
I say "holy" because to be invited into someone's story, to have them resting in a truly vulnerable state in hopes of making a connection is a moment that only God can orchestrate.
And this time of year, with the Christmas holiday approaching, it can seem like more and more folks are coming forward to share their stories.
Granted, sometimes the stories are recycled or fabricated. Sometimes the stories shift a bit in the details as they are told from one church to the next. Sometimes they are so far-fetched that my brain would hurt from just trying to piece the disconnected elements together. And yet... fabricated stories have a place too. Because, in many cases, they come as part of the survival skills the storyteller has gained in order to get by.
In this case, specifically, Jesus was telling the truth... as I would expect him to do.
He didn't fabricate a story of great illness or significant circumstances.
He wasn't crafting a story that he thought I would want to hear in order to help him.
He looked me in the eye and told me the truth. And that truth is... his work has ended, and his family is hurting.
So, I did as any of us would do... I sought out a collection of resources that might help to ease a bit of his family's burden, fully knowing that these resources were not solutions to his circumstances and would also not last a family of five very long. Yet it was a start.
And, it was Jesus... embodied in what some would consider to be "one of the least of these."
Jesus came to me that day as a reminder... that there are folks in our communities who are genuinely in need and they are having to put themselves in very vulnerable places in order to gain access to resources that have been out of their reach.
Jesus came to me that day to show me that sometimes it's the connection, not the resources shared, that makes the difference. Making someone feel welcome. Letting them know there is no judgment. Believing in them. Trusting them. All of these things and more are what create the bedrock of significant relationship that goes far beyond a transactional moment.
Jesus came to me that day, I believe, so that I could be reminded and so that I could remind others that we are all in this together.
This young father with three children (ages 7, 6 and 1) has the same needs as I do, the same needs as you and your family. He and his family need food. They need to keep paying the rent. They need to provide the basic necessities for the family... and, I would suggest, find ways to enjoy this season and create good memories for their children.
It is my hope that as we stay in contact (only possible because Jesus gave me his cell phone number), this young father and I will be able to assess those needs and pair them with resources available in our community.
It is also my hope that this encounter will remain with me as I navigate Advent and arrive at Christmas once again so that I may not forget what it was like for Mary and Joseph in those days leading up to the birth of their child. A young family in need of basic necessities... food and lodging... and under extraordinary circumstances, a place where their child would be born.
Jesus' birth was surrounded by stories of community support, vulnerability and holy moments.
I pray we can be part of reliving that experience in our community this day.
Blessed Advent to All! May Jesus find a way to enter into your life in these busy, busy days. May you look into his eyes and give thanks for the opportunity to be in his presence once again.
And may it change you... and change the world through you.
Blessings,
Pastor Timoth
If you'd like to hear more about this young family and the experiences I've had in getting to know them, please let me know. I'm always happy to talk with others about my experiences with Jesus.
