I'll Be Close to Him Today

This will be my article in the November issue of The Collect. I figure, hey, why not publish it here in advance? That way you get bonus points for visiting the blog.

- Josh Hosler, Associate for Christian Formation


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In her first week of kindergarten, my daughter Sarah befriended a little boy named Eric. The entire class was trying to adjust to the kindergarten routine, and Eric dealt with it by crying every morning on his way from before-care into the classroom.

One morning the before-care teacher was consoling Eric as he cried. Sarah came up to her and said, “Don’t worry. I’ll be close to him today.”

My memories of age five are not clear enough to remember what this kind of grief felt like. I have experienced grief many times since then, but when you’re only five, even little losses must feel overwhelming. Sarah spent the summer preparing to grieve the loss of her preschool, her weekly day with her grandparents, and our weekly “Daddy-Daughter Day.” By September, she was ready. Having dealt with her grief in advance, she knew how Eric felt. And she was able to come close to him.

“Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are cut off completely.” Could this be the bleakest lament in the Bible? It is attributed to a field of bones that represent—in Ezekiel’s psychedelic vision—the people of Israel, God’s chosen people [Ezekiel 37:1-14]. But at one time or another, these bones also represent each of us. No matter our age or the size of our loss, we are all grieving something.

Every week when we gather for worship, there are people among us who are grieving, who feel dried up and hopeless, cut off completely. Christians are those who don’t allow people to remain cut off. We strive to live like Jesus did: pouring ourselves out for others, and finding meaning in our life even as we pour it out. One way we can give ourselves away is to be fully present and attentive as the Holy Spirit drops opportunities for ministry into our laps, like the opportunity Sarah found with Eric.

This Sunday, talk to a stranger. When you pass the peace, don’t just greet people you already know. Seek out somebody you don’t know. Begin a conversation and continue it at coffee hour. Welcome people. Include people. Invite people. This is our mission: practicing the hospitality of God. And hospitality is one of the tools God uses to breathe new life into old, dry bones. You never know who God is calling you to come close to.