“I will bring them to my holy mountain, and bring them joy in my house of prayer. I will accept their entirely burned offerings and sacrifices on my altar. My house will be known as a house of prayer for all peoples, says the Lord God…” (Isaiah 56:7-8a)
It was a joy to receive an invitation for and attend a picnic last Saturday for a support group for LGBT couples who have adopted children or who are in the process of adopting. It was in the southern suburb of Matteson and it’s always nice to get out of the city. Lawns! Hoses! Free parking!
I was having a nice conversation with a woman named Julie when her daughter approached her and offered a gift. It was a handful of grass that she had plucked from the ground. Julie responded as any parent would.
“For me?!? Oh, this is so beautiful, thank you so much!”
Someone from another planet would wonder, “Why is this woman so excited about mere blades of grass?” The answer, of course, is that she’s a mom and her daughter gave her an offering and she naturally was thrilled with it.
When I read this text from Isaiah this morning, I thought of Julie and then thought of the offerings I give to God. I imagine God receiving them the same way that Julie received the grass. Sometimes those offerings are traditionally beautiful: kindness, patience, compassion. There are other offerings that are seemingly like weeds: unhealthy anger, gossip, resentment. But I think that God still lovingly receives these “weedy” offerings because it means I still want to be in relationship. That’s the key. Certainly we want to make offerings that bring love, but what God also desires is to offer our whole lives–the roses and the dandelions. And God will always receive them gladly.
Oh, the daughter’s name who offered the grass? Joy.