The Face of Christ

In my last post, I shared about a recent conversation with a church leader who chose a particularly vulnerable moment to assert his belief that I do not have the gifts necessary to serve as a pastor.

Here is the part I didn't tell you.

I left that meeting fighting hard to maintain my composure, to make it at least to the doors of the restaurant where we were meeting before releasing the tears that I was fighting back.

I made it, barely.

But wouldn't you know it, the very first person I saw as I walked out of that restaurant was a dear friend of mine whom I've gotten to know through my time at House Blend. She spends quite a bit of her time out and about walking the streets of our neighbourhood, and in the past couple of years on hard days I have often found myself taking the longer way to my destination in the hopes of bumping into her along the way.

As soon as she saw me that day, her beautiful smile lit up her face, and drove the moisture lingering in my eyes back. In her face I saw unconditional welcome, love, acceptance, and delight. In her face I saw blessing. In her face, I saw the face of Christ.

She didn't need to say a word. In fact, she's usually a woman of few words to begin with. But that smile, that face, said everything I needed to hear. It was truly a gift from God in that moment.

In the past few days, I've been reading more posts on social media about yet another incident in which a church voice has been crushing to LGBTQ people. It breaks my heart, and convicts me that I need to do much better myself in this conversation--and many others like it.

And it has also made me think about choice. One person chose to use words that crush and wound. The other person chose welcome, acceptance, and love. And one person's response made all the difference to me that day.

I'm not really sure where I go from here, and I have a lot more questions that I have answers these days. But I know this. I want to choose blessing, not crushing. I believe with all my heart that God is love, and that I am called to love my neighbour as myself. I can do better at that. I want to do better.

And I also believe that the simple act of loving your neighbour can make all the difference in the world. I believe it, because I experienced it so tangibly that day on the sidewalk. It's a lesson my friends at House Blend have been especially good at modelling for me. It's a truth that I want to carry with me always, whatever comes next.

And it might very well be THE truth that carries me to whatever comes next, one choice at a time.