Last night I attended one of what must be hundreds and thousands of Christmas dinners, celebrations and parties in the GTA alone. This one was for the participants (both Mentors and Friends) of Friendship ministries. Our family was honoured with the invitation to join them for their Christmas event. If you aren't familiar with their organizations, here's their vision statement:

          To share God’s love with people who have intellectual disabilities 

          and to enable them to become an active part of God’s family.

Now, let me be frank: my contact with those that have intellectual and/or physical disabilities has been very limited. And by very limited I mean, really, non existent. So, as a complete neophyte to this whole experience, let me make just a few, simple observations. 

First, I came home at the end of the event and I was getting ready for bed, chatting with my wife about the day and heard myself remarking, "You know, it's hard to come away from that dinner and NOT be pretty happy." There might be any number of reasons for this sort of reaction - and probably they are as numerous as the people who are involved in Friendship. However, I can say that in reflection on the event I would simply say that there was something beatific about the event - and I think it was the love and care. If it truly is on God's agenda (and I think it is) to create loving communities in which pretence, pride and position are offered up on an alter to self denying love, then it was present last night at Mo's Family Restaurant. It was a Kingdom moment. 

This leads to observation # 2: Judy. She sat at the table beside ours, and, altho I had never met her before we ended up chatting. A friendly and kind individual I would guess her to be in the 50-55 year old range. She serves in Friendship as a "mentor" to one of the participants and has done so for approximately 5 years. As we got to know one another I could see the passion in her face and hear it in her voice as she described her relationships at Friendship. At one point she remarked that, "There are a lot of meetings that I might miss, but this isn't one of them!"

Now, I don't know a lot about relationships, but this much seems clear to me: no one commits to a relationship long term if it is ALWAYS a giving affair. Barring some relational perversions, we stick with those relationships in which there is an exchange of feeling, good will, at times sacrifice, care and love.  Now, this was my first contact with Friendship - but if the number of hugs, smiles, tears and going-out-of-the-way-to-love-one-another moments is any indicator of the Kingdom of God, then it was present last night in a dinner party. It was a Kingdom moment.

Finally, I think there was one other Kingdom moment that needs to be mentioned. It's the Kingdom moment where we (and by "we" I really mean "I") are taught by God in and through unexpected means about our own deficiencies. What I mean is this: I was taught by Zach about his superpowers, hugged by  Adrian because he was glad to meet me, welcomed by John-Paul because he knew me from church, and invited to a Christmas party at one more "friends" house, "if I wasn't busy." In short, although I wasn't known to any of them in any significant way, I was taught about being welcomed, invited in and treated as if I belong - and done so with a genuineness and care that seemed, once again, to have the whiff of the Kingdom of God to it. 

Having said all of this, I am sure that the leaders of this group would first in line to say that there are challenges to this sort of ministry, and accuse me of being guilty of a "one-off" level of romanticism about the Christmas dinner. But, even if that is true, it's an accusation to which I can plead guilty without too much fuss. In the end, I  stand by my observation that a whole lot about what I read in the Bible as descriptors and indicators of the Kingdom of God were there last night. That made it beautiful and a delight to be part of. And while I don't know the date yet, I have next year's party penciled on my calendar already. 

My Neighbourhood

So, last night I did something I have never done. I went door to door through my neighbourhood. Now before you get any strange ideas about what I was doing, let me explain.

A few weeks ago I got an email from a neighbour that we already know. It was an invite to consider throwing a "Christmas Open House" for the people that live on our street. No other real agenda to it - just a chance to meet the people with whom we share the street. We plan to have some food, a glass of wine or two, and a chance for people to say hi to one another.

So, we made the plan, set the date, organized who was doing what. Everything was all in order. Then came the time to actually go door to door with the invitations. I was struck by a couple of things.

First, I was struck by the fact that I seemed a bit nervous. Sure they were strangers. Sure we hadn't met. But, all I was doing was inviting people to have some fun. Should that really make me nervous?

Secondly, I was struck by the fact that most people to whom I gave the invite looked at me a bit strangely. Sure, there were one or two who were genuinely thankful for the invite and thought it was a novel and good idea. But, a lot of people seemed a bit like a deer in the invitational headlights. What was this stranger doing at their door? Why was this person they had never met inviting them to something? And, beneath the surface, I suspect there was also a question that ran through their minds and went something like, "Why would I go to a party held by strangers and at which I will feel awkward, unknown and out of sorts?"

Maybe I was reading too much into the 10 second conversations I had at the doors of my neighbours.

Finally, here's what struck me most: I know next to nothing about stories of the lives that are being lived in the houses all around me. And, since last night I have also been struck by a second thought: I profess to believe in a God who knows the hearts,  stories,  worries, hopes, dreams, aches, and beauty of every single person on my street.

That seems overwhelming. I know only a few of the stories of the lives all around me. And, when I know them, I find myself caring, helping, praying for, etc., the people who's stories I do know. That made me think that the heart of God must ache with the knowledge of the stories and lives of humanity. Ache with pain when we suffer - but ache with longing as well when we dream and hope.

In any case, last night I walked through my neighbourhood and I met a bunch of new people. I have no idea if I will meet them this year at our open house. But, I do know that I will wave at a few more people that I met, maybe say hi when we see each other in the street. And maybe, as I get to know their stories a bit more I will find myself praying for them, aching with them as they share hopes and dreams and hurts and pain.

In any case, it was a good thing to do. Based on this post, it seems clear that this is still something that is sifting through me. All of that having been said, the good news is that there will be a party pretty soon with neighbours that right now are strangers - but who might turn out to be friends. And that alone would seem to be a good thing.