CROSSING THRESHOLDS

For the last couple of years, I’ve been mulling over something off and on. It’s about what we do when we visit someone. What’s been sticking in my head is a charge that Jesus gave his disciples when he sent them out to minister to the people.

Whatever house you enter, first say, "Peace be to this house." If a man of peace is there, your peace will rest on him, but if not, it will return to you. (Luke 10: 5-6)

It’s such a simple thing, and yet we’ve fallen out of the habit of doing it. I keep wondering why, just as I wonder why it is so hard for me to get into the habit of saying it.

After all, the charge is to bless "Peace" to the house, not "of the Lord", or "of Jesus", or "God". Just "peace". When these days we are so cautious about not intruding something that might be offensive to our hosts, it’s quite a lesson to look back at the actual charge. It’s simply "peace." What could possibly offend in that? Who would refuse it? Other than one who is not a "man of peace", in which case we get the blessing back.

So, what is it that keeps us from crossing the threshold with these words? Maybe we just feel odd bestowing blessings on others. I know I do myself a little bit. Yet it hides in our language. "Goodbye" started life meaning "God be with you." The Spanish "adios" commits the one you are parting from to God, as does the French "adieu". And it’s odd that in disguise or not, we find it easier to bless in parting than in greeting. Even in church, the benediction (the "good word") comes at the end.

Of course, at church, services usually open with an invocation. That’s where we ask God to be present with us, to attend to our worship. Not quite the same thing as blessing those in the house.

I did give it a try recently. I happened to be going to a friend’s house for a picnic with our writers group. She and her husband were in the middle of a very tough time, and I knew they needed all the prayers and blessings they could get. I actually did manage to say "Blessings on all within this house" as I came in the door. Not exactly what Jesus recommended saying, but close. My friend was grateful for it, to be sure.

The thing is, I haven’t managed to repeat it. At least not yet. And this in spite of twice monthly gatherings of my writers group, a leadership team I’m a part of, and a couple of Christmas parties in recent weeks, all of which took place in the homes of friends.

I’m going to try and get in the habit of speaking the blessing in the coming year. After all, what is there in it to offend anyone? "Peace be to this house." Five little words. Shouldn’t be hard to say. And it’s not like I’m giving up anything of myself in saying it: I don’t have to part with a drop of blood, or a penny, or anything of substance. Just some breath, a few shaped sounds, and an intention in my heart.

And maybe it is the intention that is the hardest thing for us all. This has become a rather self-centered, self-absorbed age. We move about in our little bubbles, interacting with each other, letting certain select people get close to us, but not particularly open to those met in passing. We enter each others homes knowing we are intruding on someone’s personal space. I suppose we don’t want to feel like we’re interfering in each other’s lives.

But in the end, what is the interference? What is the intrusion? Why do we hold back from this simple thing? I don’t know. But I am becoming curious about what might happen if I start doing it. What might happen if many people started doing it? An interesting idea.

"Peace be to this house and all within."