The Invitation to Return

by Pastor Kathy Barlow-Westmoreland

This week's focus scripture is Isaiah 55:1-9.

It had been sixty years that the children of Israel had been in exile. In fact the next generation was known as the children of the exile. That is a long time to be out of your home, out of the land of your birth, the land you believed God had given you. Long enough to wonder- had God forgotten you? Was God no longer listening to your prayers? Had we as a people done something so heinous, so unforgivable that God had turned the holy back on us forever? Would we never return home? There were now those who never knew life in the homeland, never knew what it was not to be in exile, never knew anything but to be a stranger in a strange land. Hope lagged, despair grew. It was almost as if the idea of going home, the idea of God turning toward them again was something they dare not even think about.

And then the words of the prophet come to them. These chapters of the Book of Isaiah were known as the Book of Comfort, for these were the words of hope and promise. These were the words they had longed to hear: Come Home. Come to where there is food to satisfy your deepest hunger and drink to quench your greatest thirst- not just of body, but of soul. These words are gifts of grace- for they say to the people God loves you no matter what. Your sin does not have the final word- God has the final word, and that word is come home.

The people are called to a grand feast, for salvation is feasting upon the love and forgiveness of God. It is soul food, and every bit as nourishing as bread is to the body. This invitation is God reaching out to us even (or especially) in the worst of times, those times when we are most tormented, most doubtful of God’s care for us.

You see, just as God came to the people of Israel in their longing to be reunited with their Creator, so God comes to us. Seeking God, and finding God does not require special skill, or status, particular intellect or faithfulness, or any other virtues- only one thing is required- that you thirst for the holy presence, that you long to be in relationship with the one who gave you life, and that you are willing to trust that love.

And then what a feast God spreads for us: a homecoming when we have been far away; a rich feast when we are hungry; fresh, living water to satisfy our thirst; a community of hope when we long to make sense of our lives; a deep and tender compassion for the human predicament. This is what awaits us- not because we deserve it, but because God loves us no matter what. It is trusting what we cannot fully understand, it is believing in what we cannot clearly see or firmly touch. It is acknowledging that there are parts of God’s plan that we simply do not know because we are not God.

And then we must accept this gracious invitation to come home. Even though we have nothing to bring. I don’t know about you, but I can hardly go to someone’s home and not bring something to offer them. A bread and butter gift my grandmother called it. To simply accept the hospitality of another without offering something in return just seems rude and ungrateful. I remember when our Mission Team went to Thailand, it was almost impossible to offer gifts to our hosts, for then they would offer more gifts- not out of their abundance, but from the substance of their lives. They would never let us pay for anything, and even purchased things on our behalf if we went shopping- it was so humbling.

On my sabbatical in both Italy and Ireland we found that the gift of time was offered so graciously- we never felt rushed at a meal- in fact, in Italy, meals took hours. In restaurants there was no sense of them bringing the check so that you could pay and move on so that they could get someone else to the table- the gift of time at the table was part and parcel to their value of hospitality.

And that is part of the holy invitation we receive- come home from whatever your exile may be- whatever wilderness you are wandering- for God has not forgotten you or abandoned you- God is listening to your cries, and understands your heart. However long your sixty years of separation has been, or even if you are just starting to wonder- if not for yourself, but perhaps for someone you love or for your world, the invitation is there. So turn to home- it matters not whether you have anything to offer God or not, for his food and drink come without price, for the price has already been paid.

As though who have received and responded to God’s grace-filled invitation, we too are to offer that invitation to others. As God’s holy people, we are challenged to be a place of welcome, of nourishment, of life. On any given Sunday we never know which exiles might be coming home, so we are always to be ready- offering without price that same love which has been offered to us.

It can be hard to be this kind of welcoming community. For we live in a increasingly cynical, angry, and judgmental society, where it is easier to throw barbs, than offers water, where it seems more satisfying to diminish another than to feed them. And yet, God is reaching out to those others, through us- we are to offer to others what God has given us.

Each time we come to this table, we are reminded of this invitation. For here in tangible form is bread we could never buy on our own, and a cup we could never afford. And yet they are offered to us, without price, without us having to do anything to be worthy of them. They are simply offered in love to all who earnestly seek to follow Jesus, all who seek the presence of the holy in their lives. And so here we are nourished in ways the world cannot nourish us. Here we find a community that no social club, or civic group or facebook page can give. Here we are in the presence of the One who can touch our deepest pain, fill our strongest longing, guide us in our greatest confusion, whether we deserve it or not.

Come, our God says. Here is bread, here is wine. No money is needed. No special credit is asked. It is here because of a love that you cannot imagine. It is part of a plan that is beyond your ability to comprehend. Just trust me. Trust my love for you. And come home. Amen.

St. John's Westminster Union Church
1085 Neeb Rd. Cincinnati, Ohio 45233
(513) 347-4613