A couple years ago, I was standing in a long line to get into a Christmas concert in Nashville, Tennessee, when something crazy happened: I was invited to have lunch the next day with some of the artists performing that night.
You’ve probably never heard of them, but to me, these weren’t just any artists. I’d listened to them since high school and have been deeply impacted by their music over the years. For my birthday, my friend WayAnne had bought us tickets to see them, and I was beyond thrilled.
The line stretched out like a string of tinsel onto the sidewalk. While WayAnne and I tried to take a selfie, we bumped into a couple behind us. They introduced themselves as Steve and Becky from Texas. We began to chat.
Then, Becky said something crazy: WayAnne and I should come with them to lunch tomorrow and meet the artists.
Soon, they mentioned that they were friends with two of the artists in the group and that they were going to lunch with them the day after! I was in awe. Are you friends in real life? On a first-name basis? You talk about mundane stuff, like how Trader Joe’s was out of toilet paper and you had to run to Walmart instead? Yes, they were those kinds of friends.
Then, Becky said something crazy: WayAnne and I should come with them to lunch tomorrow and meet the artists. I was blown away. I could possibly sit across the table from these artists whom I admired so much and have a conversation. An unmissable opportunity!Â
WayAnne had to fly back to California early the next day, but I lived a couple of hours away and could easily blow off work rearrange my schedule. So Becky and I exchanged numbers before finding our seats inside. Soon, the lights dimmed and the floor began to vibrate with music from the cellos, violins, drums, electric guitars, keyboards, and other instruments I don’t even know the names of.
After the concert, though, I started to second-guess the invite from Becky. We had just met and within three minutes, she invited me, a perfect stranger, to have lunch with her and her husband and their musician friends. Was it even safe to go? Was it real? Were they just name-dropping? Would I end up looking like an idiot?
“I believe in the kindness of strangers,” WayAnne said, like the idealist that she is.
“Well, I’ve listened to Dateline,” I replied. The lunch was in a public place, though, so I decided it was unlikely I would end up kidnapped and ziptied in someone’s basement. Eventually, I would go to satisfy my curiosity.
We seek God out, thinking He’ll be covered in lights and glory, up on a stage. Instead, we bump into Him where we’d least expect…
A lot of people are suspicious when they get good offers. People are especially suspicious of what Jesus offers, usually for good reasons. The people who claim to represent Him haven’t been nice or they pretended to be, but there were strings attached. Maybe they had parents who taught them they weren’t worthy of love. So, naturally, they think, “He couldn’t actually love me that much. This can’t be real.”
But at the same time, I think a lot of people are drawn to the idea of a God of love, especially at this time of year. We seek Him out, thinking He’ll be covered in lights and glory, up on a stage. Instead, we bump into Him where we’d least expect and He gives us a beautiful invitation to come hang out, shattering all our conceptions of what it means to be worthy.
We know He seeks out those who feel unworthy because that’s what happened at His birth. I picture the shepherds on that night, blades of grass hanging out of their mouths, talking about how they couldn’t wait for the Messiah to come. It was almost time. How big would His muscles have to be to take on the Romans? Maybe they spent some time punching the air and waving pretend swords as they attacked imaginary soldiers. The Messiah would never ask us to help, but if He did, this is how I’d fight for Him.
Then, all of a sudden, the angel shows up, giving them a too-good-to-be-true invitation: “Don’t be afraid. I’m here to announce a great and joyful event that is meant for everybody, worldwide” (Luke 2:10).
Everyone?
Of course, they ran to see the King, but I wonder if any of them were suspicious. Why would God tell us about this? Why would God send shepherds to welcome Him? Still, they knelt in awe and wonder. They had no idea why they were the chosen ones, each with a place surrounding the long-hoped-for Deliverer’s bed. But they were.
The day after the Christmas concert, I drove to the taco place where Becky had told me they were meeting. I walked in nervously, and there were three of the artists who had performed the night before, sitting and eating tacos like normal human beings.
Becky came over, her face lit up with a huge smile, made a place for me at the table, and introduced me.Â
I hope you remember this Christmas that there’s a place for you, too, at His table. Whether you’re suspicious or not, there’s room. What amazing things could happen if you took a seat, even if it’s not out of belief but merely the curiosity that it might actually be meant for you?
Anneliese Wahlman
Allie is a 2012 ARISE graduate and on-staff writer and communications assistant for Light Bearers. She is fascinated by the intersection of faith and the creative process and enjoys poetry. When she’s not watching a good movie with her friends, she enjoys narrating life with mediocre accents.
