This blog is not necesarrily a manifesto, but this words have definetly rung over and over in my mind again and again the last several months. I've offended some with these words, and others have affirmed them. So here goes this post.

It is my conficted belief that the Kingdom of Heaven began and will be completed at a table, and not a temple, or cathedral, or mosque. It's humble beginnings are first in the 6 banquets Jesus particpates in in the book of look, the 7th the momement as Jesus sat and broke bread and drank wine with his disciples, the 8th when he breaks bread as a resurrection Jesus on the road to Emmaus,  and finally,  will be completed when we all sit together with Jesus and finally do the same at the Feast of the End of It All.

And, to expand on this theme, another thought has surfaced. Jesus was found on the road to Emmaus, not in a temple, or synagagoe or mosque, but rather walking as a traveler and no one realized who he was, until he sat at the table with them.

These simple, powerful facts and concepts are a huge element of the Good news. You see, the Good news for so long by so many people and places has been subjectacted to the whim and control of man. The church in all its forms has tried desperately to control it, to say only so many people can understand it, that commen men and women are not permitted to fully possess it, or read it, or understand it in their own languages or preach or teach it. In order to maintain control, this continues to echo in the church in either protestant or catholic forms.

But over 2000 years ago, Jesus broke the forms previsously used by man to worship God, and said,

Take this bread, drink this wine, and remember who I am and what I did and what I'm about to do. And, when its all said and done, I'll do this with you again.

And walking with the men on the road to emmaus, he explained all the reasons why he was the son of God and all of the prophecies that talked about who he was and is and is to come.

He's not a politician to control countries, he's God in flesh meant to heal and protect those who need protection.

He's not only a mere man, controled by whims and desires, but a man who submitted to God's laws and authority, and obeyed to the cross.

He is a man and God who existed and continues to exist as he was raised from the dead. He shows us there is hope for now and hope for later, that no fear has to exist for either this life or the life yet to come.

He is a priest, but one unbound to temples and synagouges and mosques, found eating and drinking and walking.

And yet, these revolutionary ideas, the fact that he revealed himself at tables and long hikes, bothered people deeply to the core. Because I wrote these words, that Jesus's news was communicated in this way, and this is how I see the good news should best be communicated, the establishement was bothered, deeply enough to critique this, even though this ideas are not new, but rather the words about the actions of Jesus himself.

I've been disapointmed, because even though I was raised in the church, and studied formally, and now have served as an adult for most of my life, what I have done for the establishment is still not enough. It's not good enough.

The money I've given, not enough.

The time I've spent, never enough.

The sacrifices I've made, just a drop in the bucket.

The tears I've wept, the study I've accomplished, the sermons I've preached, the writing I've labored over, still never, ever enough for me to properly teach and preach the gospel.

Because, many of those things that I have done within the establishment of the insitutions in which I have belonged to, have been those things expected of me, and unfortunetaly, those are the things and ways I've been told in how the gospel is preached. I do not want to diminish those acts, because I know they are things I should and have done.

But honestly, the moments in which I have seen the good news communicated have been by far surprising and simplistic.

When Andrew spent months visiting a dying man in the hospital, people saw and heard good news. Every doctor, nurse, social worker and even the funeral home directors saw that Andrew, as a good Samaritan, cared and loved deeply for a man whom he barely knew.

When we have cooked a simple meal of bread and meat and wine and veggies and a man/woman/child sits at our table and finally cries,tells it all, and asks for help, or askes why, there is when we get to talk about the Good News, that there is a God who deeply loves us, cares for us and wants us to be whole and healed from both the sin we've managed to walk in and worse yet, the sins that have been committed against us.

When we walk up or down a hill, and someone later turns to me and says, but Jamie, what do you really believe? 

And when these men and women in return, love in a way they didn't know possible. When they protect, listen, get offended on your behalf, engage you in ways they didn't know they could, tell you all of their past sins, confess how miserable they were before they met you and started to learn what light and darkness were, are intrisinctly drawn to God's love, don't you think that the good news has been preached?

The Holy Spirit works in ways we do not understand, so why do we box things into the way things have always been done. Why we do we think that church needs to be so many people on certain days of the week doing certain things like prayer, bible study and discipleship? Why can't it happen on a long walk in Sacromonte, or at a table with too much wine or food, or sharing fish and bread and beer on the coast? Why?

These are the questions that keep me up late at night, and the more I eat and drink and walk with people desperately in need of Good news, the more I am convinced that I, and my husband, are exactly where we are supposed to be, and I wake up after a night of nightmares, read this over, and realize again here I stand.

And so, for the moment to my half a dozen readers, I will complete this moment of my manifesto, and move onward. Sometimes, you have to place a big ol'rock by the river and say, this is where I am, I'm going to remember what happened here, and as my friend Jason likes to say, we keep moving forward.