(NOTE: I wrote the majority of this musing almost 2 years ago, but never shared it. So I’m sharing it now!)
I spent about $250 on a Charcuterie Board.
Four adults. Three children. One meal.
Two-hundred and fifty dollars…
Now, this is not a regular occurrence for us. We’re not exactly rich, and $250 is often more than I spend on groceries for our family for a week! Let’s be honest, $250 on a Charcuterie Board was not the wisest decision we’ve ever made. Between that, the bottle of wine we toasted and shared together celebrating Eucharist, and the freshly-infused brandy we sampled, we easily feasted upon $300 worth of food and drink.
GAH! The frugal side of me winces at the reckless extravagance of which we indulged. This HURTS!!! We can’t afford this… what are we thinking!?!?
House Church wasn’t on the 5-year plan. We came upon it by accident – and not of the Bob Ross sort (ya’ know, “happy little accidents”?). Ours was born our of pain, and a need for healing. We began gathering together in one another’s homes out of love and friendship for one another, wanting to heal and grow together, to seek God and ask the hard questions that feel “too messy for church”. We longed for fellowship deeper than we’ve found lately in many contemporary congregations. We wanted to taste true, honest, breath-taking unity in Christ.
And it was strange at first; no plastered smiles after hollering at the kids to get in the car. No live worship with dancing and clapping. Video-recorded sermons streamed from Facebook. My children running around like caffeinated cats in a room full of mice, making such a racket the sermon is nearly inaudible.
Our friends, patiently loving our children through their socially anxious scared-and-screaming stage, into their playful, wild stage, and by the end enjoying affectionate snuggles, full of adoration and trust.
Our friends, explaining the Eucharist to my 4-yr old in a profound way I never would have thought of, and she, the face of joy and Jesus in the world of brokenness and cynicism they walk among daily.
Our friends, intelligent, learned and wise, discussing passages of Scripture and concepts therein on levels deeper than I find in my seminary classes, balancing the sacred and the secular, challenging and being challenged.
Our friends…
“No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you.” – Jesus. (John 15:15 ESV)
“…but I have called you FRIENDS…”
You know what Jesus did for his friends?
“Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” – also Jesus. (John 15:13 ESV)
Jesus DIED for his friends. That’s pretty extreme, don’t ya’ think? Oh, but that wasn’t it. The guy ROSE FROM THE DEAD for his friends. GUYS! Have you ever just stopped and tried to fathom this!? Seriously!! Jesus didn’t just die, he freaking broke the natural laws of life and death, and rewrote them on our behalf, so we could skip out on the punishment we deserved because we’re sinners deserving of eternal separation from God and punishment in hell… but Jesus wasn’t good with that so he died, and re-wrote the laws of life and death so that we could be with him in heaven in precious fellowship for timeless eternity, HIS FRIENDS!!! IT’S BEYOND EXTRAVAGANT, Y’ALL!!! IT’S UNFATHOMABLE! IT’S OUTRAGEOUS!!!
We spat in his face with our sin and disgrace. He died in our place extending his grace and we get to be called FRIENDS of ALMIGHTY GOD.
You want to talk about extravagance?
My Charcuterie board is nothing.
Lately, my heart has been resting in this weird idea: extravagant worship.
Oh, you’ve heard of something like that too? Dancing undignified like David (Crowder!), singing at the top of your lungs, chasing the call of God past promotions and material gain into the underappreciated vocation of full-time ministry.
These things are beautiful, and they can be extravagant, for sure! But lately, I’ve noticed forms of extravagant worship I’ve never noticed before:
A lifetime of faithful engagement in ancient liturgy, even unto death.
Six months unpaid leave-of-absence, living on savings, with kids, to do the mundane, tedious, yet necessary tasks for the church to grow that the staff simply does not have the time or skill to do effectively or efficiently.
The overwhelming beauty of a Catholic church or cathedral, every minute detail carefully crafted with excellence to evict worship and surrender.
The simple selflessness of a mother, giving every ounce of who she is to try and raise Godly offspring in this crazy world, desperately trying to love her children straight into the arms of Jesus.
Christmas morning.
Sippy cups and wine glasses, raised together by good friends, in remembrance of the one who made friendship with God and unity in Christ possible.
Charcuterie boards and Sabbath.
I know there is a time to be frugal. But there is also a time to for extravagance.
A time to mourn. A time to rejoice.
A time to count the cost and pinch the pennies.
And a time to crack open the alabaster.
Cotton Ribbons 