The Gift Of Presence

by Jessica Ketola

This week I am reminded of the gift of presence. Whether in times of celebration, accomplishment and joy or in times of heartbreak, illness or loss -- what do we long for most but for those we care about to show up. And to show up big, right? If you are human and still walking the planet, the odds are high that you have suffered the pain of planning a party that no one comes to or having a win go unacknowledged or uncelebrated. If you still have a pulse, you most likely have had days when you were bursting with excitement to share your news with someone, ready to paint the town red only to find out that everyone else was busy, preoccupied and there would be no dancing in the streets after all.

How much more, then, in our most profound times of need, disappointment and loss, do we need to look into the faces of those who have chosen to show up, offering the gift of their presence? Just the mere fact that they are here speaks volumes: the vibration of their voice, the comfort of their embrace, the assurance in their eyes, the fragile emotion reflected back to us in their faces - all visceral signs that we are not alone. We are seen, known and loved. No matter what we face, it is somehow less egregious if we face it together. Presence. The gift of presence. We simply cannot underestimate the power of showing up.

You May Touch a Stranger - Richard Renaldi

This not only applies to the highs and the lows of our lives, but to the mundane and everyday grind of our existence and to the persistent loneliness we feel as we seek meaning, purpose, and connection. For me, this is why the church exists. So that we can not only experience the community we were created for, but embody a place of hospitality and presence that calls to and welcomes those that are disenfranchised, hungry, lonely, and hurting. Meaning, me and you and all of us. To be human is to wake up everyday with the reality that we are fragile, desperately needy and just hoping that we can somehow stumble and grope our way through the dark to find a little remnant of hope, a vestige of meaning, and a respite of connection or at the very least some chocolate cake. This is my experience. Most days. Okay...today and pretty much every damn day.

But what does it mean for us to be the church, to be the presence of Jesus, to offer our presence and in turn offer a small glimmer of hope and gift of connection? What does it mean to wade through the prevailing tides of preoccupation and distraction, individualism and self-absorption, mind-numbing addictions and consumption and actually show up? I mean SHOW UP. To actually live lives of intention where we show up for each other, show up for our families, show up for ourselves, show up for our neighbors, and show up for those without power and without voice. What would happen if we were to awaken, subverting the mesmerizing sirens of our day intended to keep us lulled into a perpetual state of apathy, hamster-wheel busyness and blindness? What if we began to sing another song, dance to another tune -- prioritizing our lives and making kingdom choices about how much stuff we accumulate, where we choose to live, with whom and why, our work places and our commutes, our hobbies, how much time we spend on Facebook, in front of Netflix or numbing out on Candy Crush, and how much privilege we take for granted when our brothers and sisters are starving, imprisoned and dying?

You May Touch a Stranger - Richard Renaldi

Jesus did not call us merely to a Sunday gathering. Though if He did, some of us would be in trouble. God knows we have a hard time committing a couple of hours a week in service to Him -- a sad commentary on our individualistic and consumerist culture. However, the Call of Christ is far beyond the weekly gathering, far beyond our compartmentalized and fragmented lives and far beyond us as individuals. Rather, it is a call to awaken to a whole new life - this "eternal" life that Jesus spoke of which sadly has been co-opted to mean some existential existence in the great by and by. Nothing could be further from the truth. Rather, it is a whole new kind of life, a new way of being alive in the world and being awake to God and His presence with us. A whole new way of doing life, of showing up, where love is the greatest commodity, people the greatest gifts, relationship and connection the greatest healers, and community the greatest force of good in the world. Where our timid "I's" become a powerful "We" and we are caught up in the greatest Story of love, grace and redemption that the world has ever known. And so I ask you, will you show up? Will you be the church? Will you awaken to the life that you were created to live?

As the practicing church, we are not trying to appease or cater to the dominant narrative of the gospel, the often compartmentalized, dualistic, consumerist, individualistic and thus small vision of what church looks like today. Rather, we are praying, groaning, wrestling and longing for the gospel to be reinterpreted holistically in our day, in our time, in our neighborhoods and places of work, in our faith community and in our lives -- to be good news. We are actually praying and longing along with many sincere and passionate Jesus followers today for the reformation and restoration of the church. This is not for the faint of heart or the casual onlooker. It will require us to show up and to show up big - to awaken to a whole new way of life. It will cost us everything and yet we are promised a new kind of life, a full life, a life of abundance. I hope that you will join us in this pursuit, that you will show up and offer the greatest gift you have to offer - the gift of your presence.

You May Touch a Stranger - Richard Renaldi