Gathering

"If you were to host a party and could invite five beings: living or dead, fictional or real, animal, human or alien, famous or personal, who would they be?

Would this be the party of a lifetime, or if you could have it, a weekly event?"

She asked the questions and told us she'd let us know when our twenty minutes were up.

Weekly event. Thursday nights. Potluck gourmet vegetarian dinner at my house. But someone would have to clean it first. That would have to be part of the deal.

Let's see...there'd be me, Jesus, John, and ... I don't know. I have a few ideas, but mostly they're people I'd feel obligated to invite because they'd be totally pissed if I had Jesus over and they couldn't come, too.

The setting: somehow my house would have to be cleaned, but there's no way I'm doing it. If I had to clean each week, I wouldn't do it. Wouldn't host. Would rather cancel than deal with my mess.

Although we could always meet out - maybe at The Weary. A regular table for our Thursday night crew.

I think it would be cool to meet Jesus. There's so much I want to learn - I don't really even have a ton of questions for him. I just want to listen to him talk. Tell his stories. That man knew how to use a metaphor. Finding meaning in the ordinary, using the little things of life, the daily grind, to make a point, teach a lesson. And always so gently, and with grace. Jesus wasn't in your face preaching at you. No - he got down and drew in the sand until everyone shut up, till they quit their bitching and were ready to listen. And then? He'd ask a question. A really good question.

I think it would be tough, having to think that hard to answer his questions. To think about what he was saying. To decide if I wanted to live my life that way - really giving up what I had, what I thought I wanted, to follow him. To work for truth and mercy and to care for the poor, the voiceless, the earth. Really, to set aside the bullshit -- which can be fun, but really a lot of it is just distraction -- for the real stuff of life and live fully. Be fully alive and striving to live the way life was meant to be lived.

I'd love to listen to Jesus. He'd be a great dinner guest. I bet he wouldn't even mind if the house was dirty. He's a come-as-you-are guy, for sure. He wouldn't mind the chaos, the kids. We'd talk through it, letting them climb over us or snuggle in. Explaining it to them when they asked, drawing them in, making them feel they were part of it. That what he has to say is for their ears, too.

So why don't I invite him in? Into my home, my life? Make space for regular Thursdays with Jesus - a potluck and a little conversation, a listening session? Really, I just want to hear what he has to say. I'm sure my questions would come up as I go.

Wow. I could make this happen. I've so much to learn, and he has a lot to teach, to offer. I'd like to know what he really has to say - not just the distorted bullshit that the self-righteous patriarchy says that he says. (I have a feeling a lot of them wouldn't really like Jesus if they actually listened to what he said anyway. What's the saying? If God hates all the same people you do, then you can be pretty sure you just made him in your image?)

Anyway, I need to look for myself. To get back to what he really says and then wrestle with it, instead of fighting or embracing what I'm told is in the Bible.

But I'm guessing Jesus could fill me in on that over dinner. Maybe a chickpea curry with tofu. And tomatoes and green beans. And a couple of good IPA's.

"If we learn to open our hearts, anyone, including the people who drive us crazy, can be our teacher." - Pema Chodron

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Lifted from my writing practice journal. Thanks to my inspiring teacher Miriam for the writing prompt and the reminder to let my pen follow my brain without judging or editing.

:::

And per Tuesday tradition, linking to Tuesdays Unwrapped, where we call the gifts when we see them.