THE QUICK SUMMARY

The challenge facing Christianity today is not a lack of motivation or resources, but a failure of imagination.

A growing number of people are disturbed by the values exhibited by the contemporary church. Worship has become entertainment, the church has become a shopping mall, and God has become a consumable product. Many sense that something is wrong, but they cannot imagine an alternative way. The Divine Commodity finally articulates what so many have been feeling and offers hope for the future of a post-consumer Christianity.

Through Scripture, history, engaging narrative, and the inspiring art of Vincent van Gogh, The Divine Commodity explores spiritual practices that liberate our imaginations to live as Christ’s people in a consumer culture opposed to the values of his kingdom. Each chapter shows how our formation as consumers has distorted an element of our faith. For example, the way churches have become corporations and how branding makes us more focused on image than reality. It then energizes an alternative vision for those seeking a more meaningful faith. Before we can hope to live differently, we must have our minds released from consumerism’s grip and captivated once again by Christ.

A SIMPLE SOLUTION

Author Skye Jethani describes the origins of suburb living in the mid-twentieth century as a response to the congested and threatening conditions of the cities. New neighborhoods were created outside the city but still within driving distance – the “best” of both worlds.

In his own families quest in purchasing a suburban home, Jethani noticed common features of the suburban houses:

• Most homes are set as far back from public spaces (streets and sidewalks) as possible.
• Rooms facing the streets tend to be the ones least used (formal living rooms).
• The spaces where real life happens (the kitchen and family room) are hidden in the back.
• Outdoor recreation is confined to the back of the house, usually hidden by a fence.

In other words, everything about suburban home design communicates to the passerby, “Leave me alone!”

This thought is a far cry from the actions expressed by Jesus in the biblical example of hospitality found within His dinner at Matthew’s house.

Somehow, by simply sharing a table with Matthew and His friends, Jesus was bringing healing.

In the home, around the table, among a gathering of the lonely and the broken, the healing power of Christ’s love may be found.

Hospitality was never about changing oneself to fit the desires and expectations of the guest, but rather about loving and honoring the guest by welcoming her into the reality of one’s life and community with open arms.

The English word hospitality originates from the same Latin root as the word hospital. A hospital is literally a “home for strangers.” Of course, it has come to mean a place of healing. There is a link between being welcomed and being healed, and the link is more than just etymological.

When we are loved an accepted for who we really are – the true self that resides behind the false consumer identities – and welcomed into the life of another person without conditions, it brings healing to our souls.

Jesus knew that his dinner companions at Matthew’s house (Matthew 9:10-13) were not moral people. He knew the depravity of their lives even better than the Pharisees did. But he loved and welcomed them nonetheless. He offered those wounded souls a refuge from their battle. Such is the love of God. His love is not blind. He sees us as we truly are. He excavates the broken identity we’ve buried beneath a mountain of designer labels and overprices lattes, sees its filthy condition, and says, “Come, my child, sit down and eat. I have prepared a place for you.” And the warm glow of Christ illuminates the faces of all who have gathered at his table for healing. And for the first time we see one another as we truly are. Not labels. Not categories. Not demographics. But as people fearfully and wonderfully made in the image of God.

Our homes are to be hospitals – refuges of healing radiating the light of heaven. And our dinner tables are to be operating tables – the place where broken souls are made whole again.

Skye Jethani, The Divine Commodity

A NEXT STEP

In her book Loving My Actual Neighbors, author Alexandra Kuykendall develops questions which you will find helpful in considering a table for healing:

• When have you felt well-loved by a neighbor? How common is it for you to experience neighborly love?
• Do you feel the need to love your neighbor out of responsibility (you know it’s what you must do) or out of desire (your heart is compelling you in this direction)? Or both?
• Who do you see as your neighbor?
• How are you uniquely positioned to love your neighbors?
• Who is right within arm’s reach to care for? Whom would you like to know more in order to love more?
• What would treasuring your neighbors more look like in the next week? The next month? The next year?

First Christian Church Wichita Falls has a “5000 Table” vision for the next five years, by feeding, reaching and resourcing their neighbors and friends. For their church, it starts with the one table of communion each week, and then extends to every table, in every home, throughout the week. Considering the above questions in your own hospitality, how does the communion table affect your dining room table? What could happen if you created a plan to empower your congregation to confront these same questions and implement in their homes?