Traveling

Recently, I spent the weekend in Murfreesboro, visiting my family and speaking at Trinity Pres.’ missions conference. It was a wonderful time in Tennessee. I ate sushi with my dad, walked on the greenway with my mom, had lunch with Sarah B, and enjoyed connecting with people at the conference. 

After the church dinner Friday night, my mom and I stopped by the local Kroger to get OJ for the ladies’ brunch. Imagine my surprise when, stuck somewhere between the toothpaste and the toaster streudel, I saw The Prodigal God by Tim Keller. 

I must admit, I was surprised. And not in a good way.

Sometimes, I am a bit of a snob. I often think that something is better simply because it is obscure. This is true of music, health foods, clothing brands, and especially books.

Perhaps you understand my problem. I like Tim Keller. I like his sermons, and I enjoyed reading The Prodigal God. Now, they are selling his book in the Kroger right next 100 Inspirational Quotes for Your Troubled Teen (OK-I don’t know if that is a real book, but it was something like that). And so I wondered, “Did I get wrong? Is TK only as profound as inspirational quotes for troubled teens? Should I rethink my position on his book?”

I realized that much of my life is reflected in that visit to the grocery store. I keep looking for insights and clues to God’s work in the world. I take seminary classes and read never-heard-of books and think I will get closer to God if I can only feel smarter. If something seems too obvious, I am suspicious.

But most often, God’s work shows up somewhere between the toothpaste and the toaster streudel. God’s not hiding in the dusty Westminster library. “For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature—have been clearly seen.” How often I miss what is clearly seen because I don’t think I can kind what I need in the Kroger.

This weekend, I had a small seder celebration with some friends. A meal that reminds us that hope is hidden in everyday things. Bitter herbs and salt water to remind us of the bitter slavery and the tears of the Israelites. Wine and a feast to remind us that God brings His children out of slavery and sadness and into a celebration. A cherished group of friends that reminds us that God gives us family all along the way. And a lamb bone to remind us that this movement from sadness to celebration can come only because of the ultimate sacrifice of Another.

Through the celebration, there is one place left open, one glass unfilled. This place is set for Elijah, who is expected to return announcing the coming of Messiah. Near the end of the evening, a child goes and opens the door, looking to see if Elijah has come. I found myself expecting someone to be there, looking for someone to come in. 

I’ve carried that image of the open door with me. As we celebrate Palm Sunday today and anticipate Good Friday and Easter Sunday, I want to continue to leave space for Elijah moments. May there always be an open door to my heart, and an open place at my table that expects evidence of the returning Messiah.

May we all open our lives in expectation that the Kingdom is coming quickly. And may we encounter, and truly see, precursors to the returning King everywhere from the dinner table to the aisles of the local Kroger.