“...And Receive Joyfully”
The buzzer sounded. The Knicks were NBA champions. After blowing yet another considerable lead, the Spurs (and their fans) had finally been put out of their misery.
Sunset Ridge had hosted watch parties at Charis Park throughout the Finals, but now our neighbors were packing up and heading home. No honks or fanfare tonight.
I surveyed the equipment that needed to be broken down and stored. And then there was that enormous ladder I had no idea how to get back into the chapel by myself.
Everyone who'd helped with previous watch parties was unavailable. My friend David had helped with setup but had to leave at halftime. With the Spurs still holding a lead, we'd joked that a victory might give me the second wind I needed for the cleanup.
Jalen Brunson had other ideas.
Instead of a second wind, I found myself in the doldrums.
Setting up before one of the watch parties in Charis Park.
It was already after 11 PM, I was leading worship the next morning, and I was looking at another couple of hours of work.
That was when Summer stopped and noticed my predicament.
Summer manages the nearby Natural Grocers, and we’d gotten acquainted during the watch parties through conversations about music, Scott’s Pizza, and of course, the Spurs. As everyone else was leaving, she asked if I was breaking everything down by myself. When I admitted that I was, she jumped right in and started helping.
Now, I consider myself a pretty progressive guy, but apparently I still carry around the notion that it's unseemly to accept a woman's help with heavy lifting. I was also conscious of the late hour and didn't want Summer to feel uncomfortable or obligated. Besides, she was our guest. She'd come to enjoy a basketball game, not help me clean up afterward.
So I may have been a little effusive in my thanks, while also minimizing the ask and giving her every opportunity to bow out. I assured her that I really only needed help getting that enormous ladder back to the chapel. I could take care of the rest, seriously.
She helped me carry it across the street. But when that was finished, she didn't leave.
Instead, she cheerfully stayed until every stake was pulled from the ground, every rope untangled, and every lawn chair returned to its place for the next day's parkgoers.
And she didn't just share the physical burden. She helped lift my spirits, too. She commiserated with me about the Spurs' loss, which, honestly, might have been what I needed even more. Having someone to share the disappointment with was a whole lot better than spending two hours silently replaying that blown lead in my head.
In Luke 19, Jesus stops and notices Zacchaeus, a man the crowd regards with suspicion. Jesus extends an unexpected welcome by inviting himself into Zacchaeus's home. Zacchaeus receives Jesus joyfully, opens his door, and responds with extraordinary generosity. It's a beautiful picture of hospitality moving in both directions.
In our offering affirmation at Sunset Ridge, we say, "God has always met and will always meet all of my needs. I give freely and receive joyfully."
I’ve always loved those words because they remind us that we can receive blessings and care with joy, too. Sometimes that's easier said than done.
Throughout the watch parties, I'd tried to be a good host, helping our neighbors feel welcome. But Summer's remarkable generosity flipped that relationship on its head. We had created this space hoping to welcome our neighbors, and here was one of those neighbors extending an extraordinary measure of hospitality to me. No longer simply host and guest, we were two neighbors looking out for each other.
As someone in my formation group observed last week, hospitality doesn't always look like opening your home or hosting an event.
Indeed, sometimes it looks like noticing the person who's still putting away the chairs after everyone else has gone home.
I wonder how many opportunities we have to extend that kind of unexpected hospitality. And when someone extends it to us, will we be willing to receive it joyfully?
