Yesterday was our typical Tuesday music with a mission. By now though I have come to understand that there really is not much that is “typical” about the experience of Table Grace. So on the way there I was feeling overwhelmed by the starting of a new year in so many directions, school, church, Table Grace, life. And really feeling less than equipped to get up and sing for an hour. However, I spent some time in prayer on my way there, inviting the Holy Spirit to come into me, come into the space that is Table Grace, flow through all who are present, and bring the people to Table Grace Café that day who need to experience the grace of Christ. The other prayer was “surprise me with Your radical grace this day. Lord”.
Well, needless to say I experienced that in multiple ways. I began to sing, and for the second song I selected Angel by Sarah McLachlan. I noticed while I was singing that there was a woman in the corner who began to cry. As is often the case with music, it taps deeply into whatever places need the presence of the Spirit, it taps into memories of the past and experiences of the song in different times and places. Once I was done singing Angel, I began to look for the next song. The woman approached me at the keyboard still in tears, and began to expand on what moved her so much about the song and the experience of Table Grace. Suffice it to say she was and is in a very difficult situation. As would be atypical for a worship experience that I would lead or concert setting, I asked her if I could pray with her on the spot for anything particular, and she listed off her requests. As her tears continued to fall, I held both of her hands in front of the rest of the current patrons of that moment at Table Grace, who all were in some way present with her in her pain, even though they couldn’t hear all the details of her struggles. There was a Holy Silence and a moment of grace was shared. She went back to her table, and enjoyed the remainder of her lunch.
I don’t claim to know what really happened in that moment for her or anyone else that witnessed that. Or what will happen in her life in the days and weeks ahead. What I do know is that the Holy Presence of God was there in her pain, in our pain. And for a fleeting moment, we all could sense that we are truly in this thing called life together.
In my opinion words do not do justice to the experience of the grace of that moment. Sometimes there are so many layers felt simultaneously and in so many directions that it is entirely impossible to recreate it with words. But words are what we have to tell the story of the presence of the Divine. My hope for you is that you experience the radical grace of Christ regularly and in turn can share that with others.