The Confession of Peter is our reminder that when we believe we have figured it out, when we believe we have arrived, that it is actually not of our own doing, and we are never not impacted by the world around us, which will always offer us a better, an easier deal.

How often do we miss the point because we are trapped in our own perspective? How often do we dismiss the “other” because we think we already know the end result? Today’s gospel reminds us that God seeks us all out, not just the chosen, ALL of us to walk this path together. One step at a time.

No matter or situation or status, we identify ourselves as the hungry Jesus has come to feed – the captives Jesus has come to set free.  Making a show of our suffering, we bring the world’s puritanical, polarized tactics to our altar … not for renewal but for retribution, anywhere we can get it.

While we find ourselves traveling this way of faith, no matter where we are, God is there with us and invites and empowers us to welcome people to travel with us.

God doesn’t live in an easily-parsed B-movie world, type casting each of us into either hero or villain roles. God lives in the very entanglements, lives with us, and loves us, weedy as we might be, with the same abundance as the sower who throws seed every which way, placing hope even in the more incredulous of places.

We don’t choose the Kingdom of Heaven because it’s easier or softer. We choose it because every other kingdom buckles under the weight of broken promises and false hopes. These other kingdoms promise to satisfy our deepest desires, but in the end, they leave us empty and unfulfilled.

“… As members of Christ’s Body, we can ‘strive for justice and peace among all people,’ first to inaugurate Beloved Community, and not any partisan outcome. Even when our actions appear identical, their roots in our faith matter …”

There is a reluctance in our transactional culture to accept hospitality and grace we believe we have neither earned nor have the capacity to reciprocate. Imagine showing up to social event after social event in people’s homes and eating their food without once bringing a host or hostess gift with you. If you felt a twinge of anxiety at all in imagining that scenario, a) you are not alone, and b) we can too easily intertwine thanksgiving for hospitality with a refusal to be vulnerable enough to be ministered to—believing that a bestowal of grace is a sneaky way of God getting the upper hand somehow on us.