Lift up your eyes
On a night late in the month of November a certain man sat in his home dressed in robe and slippers.
It was close to bedtime and as was his custom he was reading from his Bible. It was the Gospel of Luke from which he read these words: “When you give a feast invite the poor, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed for they cannot repay you.
The man’s mind wandered to the Thanksgiving that was drawing near.
He smiled as he thought of the rich and well-to-do relatives and acquaintances they usually invited. Then he said, ever so slowly to himself, “I just wonder! What do you suppose would happen if —.”
The simple words of Jesus intrigued him more and more. “You know, I think I’ll do it!”
In the days that followed invitations were engraved that read: “Jesus of Nazareth requests the honor of your presence for Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday evening, Nov. 22. Cars for your transportation will be at Main and Central at six o’clock.”
A week before Thanksgiving a well-dressed man handed them out down town.
One was given with a warm smile to an old man selling pencils, another to a little man hawking newspapers, one to a blind beggar with a tin cup, one to a man exhausted from looking for a job, and on and on.
None of them knew what to make of it. Could it be nothing short of a cruel, practical joke?
But at six o’clock on Thursday, as the motley crowd waited, wondering, cars pulled up. They all got in and the cars drove away.
At the door of the spacious home their host met them smiling, “A warm welcome. I am so glad you have come!”
They went directly into the dining room and were seated at the large table laden with food.
Their host spoke, “My friends, let us ask the blessing. In the hallowed silence which fell over the group they listened to the words: “Lord, bless this food. Bless each of us. You know our varied needs. Help us to be like Jesus and accept our thanks in his blessed name. Amen.”
They were quiet at first. Then the blind man asked, “What does he look like?” There was a ripple of laughter.
The ice was broken. And as to the meal, they needed no encouragement.
Later, there was singing and wonderful fellowship in the living room. Their host spoke again, “I know you must wonder about all this. I invited you here tonight in the name of One who ever moved among the sick, the poor, the lonely. This Thanksgiving feast was His. I merely let Him use this house.”
Lives were changed that evening. Speaking words of deep appreciation, they left with smiles on their faces, light in their eyes, hope in their hearts.
Of course, it didn’t really happen. But it could happen, don’t you think, perhaps this Thanksgiving.
Clyde Nichols is a retired minister, having served First Christian Church in Temple for 27 years as senior minister. He is the author of three books of devotionals and writes a religious column for several Texas newspapers.
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