Hosting The Presence of Christ

The Sacred Call of Ordinary Spiritual Hosts

I sat in the hard wooden pew, taking in my surroundings. The sights, smells, and sounds were unfamiliar, even somewhat uncomfortable. A faint scent of incense lingered in the air. Men and women adorned in formal priestly vestments. Unfamiliar rhythms, liturgies, and music. Frequent movement—sitting, standing, kneeling. Prayers spoken, not just from a pastor at the podium, but offered up randomly from the men and women in the pews surrounding me.

I was relatively new to this group of believers. My body, still in a hypervigilant state, was cautious and somewhat tense. And yet, something in this place, something in the Anglican tradition, invited me to rest and receive.

I don’t remember anything specific from that particular morning. Not the Scripture readings or the overarching message. But one phrase pierced through the noise in my head and landed on my heart as gently as a feather: “The Church’s purpose is to host the presence of Christ.”

I have heard the Church’s mission described in many ways, usually couched in a strategic vision statement: make disciples, spread the gospel, equip the saints, love and serve our neighbors—all of which appeal to my performance-driven instincts. These are all worthy, biblically sound pursuits and important parts of what it means to follow Jesus. But I have never heard the Church’s mission described as hosting the presence of Christ.

Discussions about hosting the presence of Christ are deep theological waters—things like his promised presence among us when we come together. Jesus assured us that when even as few as two or three are gathered in his name, he will be there among us (Matthew 18:20). Or the mystery of his presence with us through our shared communion meal—as we eat the broken bread of his broken body and drink from the common cup of his blood shed for us.

These waters are deep and mysterious, and could quickly go over my head. However, there is another aspect to hosting the presence of Christ, one that originates in and flows from the self-giving God.

Jesus gave himself to us so that we can give ourselves to the world.

While that was not a new idea for me, describing it as hosting the presence of Christ was. It captured my imagination and reoriented my heart and mind. And, in that hard wooden pew, something about those words began to settle my hypervigilant soul and invited me to rest in the presence of Christ.

Though that was a few years ago, the words spoken that day were sticky. I often find myself pondering them, wondering what it might look like for a church to live as an extension of Christ to those in the pews. Not just in his words and works, but in his personhood. If in our pews, small groups, and Sunday school rooms, people encountered the character of Christ and were able to find not only forgiveness from sin, but true rest and restoration?

While there is something unique that happens when we gather, hosting the presence of Christ—welcoming him in, making space for him, and extending his presence through us—extends beyond the walls of our churches. This calling applies both corporately and individually. What would it look like if we actually resembled him? If his presence, through the Spirit, so filled us that the overflow spilled out onto those around us?

Something about the imagery of hosting Christ’s presence reorients me, guiding me like the north star. First, I receive. Then, I give. A dried-up well offers no thirst-satisfying water to passersby. The same is true with a parched soul. If I have not drunk deeply from the fountain of life, what can I offer to those who are thirsty?

I fear that many, like myself, may have gotten that backwards. Some days, I am more busy for Christ than I am available to and present with Christ. On other days, I drink deeply from the constant noise and distractions of our world, which are amplified through our constant connection to social media and 24/7 news feeds. Both can leave my soul dry and withered.

In John 15, Jesus taught that branches must remain connected to the vine to produce fruit. Likewise, if we are to produce fruit, we need to remain connected to him, the lifegiving vine. This is part of Jesus’ farewell discourse to his disciples, his parting words. And weighing heavily on his heart and mind was the disciples’ need to abide in him.

This message was so important to Jesus that he repeated it ten times. He longed for intimate union and communion with his disciples—for them (and us) to stay connected to him, allowing his love and presence to take up residence in them so that they would produce much fruit (John 15:1-10).

This is what makes hosting the presence of Christ possible. It is a holy calling to spiritual hospitality, offering back to others what we have received. Extending his love and presence through sharing wisdom, forgiveness, mercy, and spiritual gifts, in every conversation we have with a friend or family member.

In the depths of my heart, this is my desire: to host the presence of Christ in every interaction I have with a stranger. Every gesture. Every word I write. I want anyone who comes to the WholeHearted Project to find Christ, not me. Not spiritualized self-help. Not good ideas or eloquent words. Not even good teaching. Jesus.

The other stuff is good, as long as Jesus is present. Because at the end of the day, he is the best we have to offer. He is the one who invites the weary to rest and the thirsty to drink. The one who mends broken hearts, pursues the lost, and cares for the vulnerable. And he is the one who took on our sin, shame, and suffering and gave us the hope of new life, offering compassion, love, mercy, hope, healing, and forgiveness to all who are willing to receive and follow him. He is the living God, the suffering servant, and the risen and reigning king.

There is nothing better than extending the presence of Christ to someone.

The Apostle Paul captured the essence of this idea in a letter to the Corinthian church, describing the ministry God had entrusted to him as spreading the fragrance of the knowledge of him everywhere, being the aroma of Christ to those who are being saved and those who are perishing (2 Corinthians 2:14-15). Or as the NLT translates it as being a “sweet perfume” and “a Christ-like fragrance” (NLT).

While that sounds sweet, Paul goes on to say that not everyone will appreciate our Christ-like fragrance. In fact, to some, the scent of Christ is putrid. Jesus offended many. He spoke clearly about sin. He called people to reject lives of self-indulgence and self-righteousness. He didn’t come to placate or pacify. He came to save and restore.

Jesus was not focused on helping us live our best lives now, but rather on seeking the kind of satisfaction that could only be found through him, one that would outlast the confines of this life. For those who knew their hunger, thirst, and spiritual poverty, Jesus was appealing. But for those who refused to acknowledge their insufficiency and lack, Jesus was offensive.

Hosting the presence of Christ does not mean everyone will find us appealing. But the question we must ask ourselves is this: Is that because it is really Christ they are experiencing through us? Or do they instead smell us? Is it Christ in us that they find offensive, or is it our self-righteousness, sanctimony, arrogance, or hypocrisy?

Do they encounter the life-giving fruit of Christ’s spirit within us: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control? Or do they encounter the stench of jealousy, gossip, power plays, racism, sexism, and hatred of the other (Galatians 5:16-24)?

Do they see us freely extending our hand to those who have nothing to offer us in return? Or does selfishness and self-gratification characterize our lives?

Do they experience the care and compassion of Christ in our presence? Or do they instead feel the sting of shame, judgment, and condemnation? Do people leave our presence better or worse off than before we encountered them?

As I allow these questions to penetrate my conscience, I am clear that I fail frequently. Even in the last week. Rather than encountering the patience, peace, and grace of Christ through me, others experienced my frustration, self-righteousness, and anger.

Even if I was right about some things and meant well, I elevated the emotional temperature in the situation and stirred further division. Instead of experiencing the sweet aroma of Christ, they experienced rashness, harshness, and being treated as an inconvenience.

Hosting Christ’s presence sounds mystical because it is. As believers, his Spirit dwells in us. Looking more like Christ is not something I, or you, can muster up, at least not with any longevity or consistency. It is something that happens through us as we avail ourselves to him as his disciples.

Luke captures the essence of this in Acts 4:

“Now when they saw the boldness of Peter and John, and perceived that they were uneducated, common men, they were astonished. And they recognized that they had been with Jesus” (vs. 13).

Peter and John, like all of the rest of Jesus’ disciples, were not extraordinary people. They were just ordinary men; what made them different was Jesus. They had spent time in his presence, listening to what he said and watching what he did. And the Spirit of Christ had taken up residence in them. The scent of Christ was irrefutable. People recognized they had been with Jesus because they had become hosts of his presence.

I long to extend the gracious presence of Christ to those I encounter throughout my day. I want others to know him better through my interactions with them. I long for him to be desired more deeply because of others' experience with me. For him to be honored, even if unbelieved, because others saw something of him in me that they cannot refute.

It is Christ we want to extend to others. But that does not mean we cease to be who we are. Instead, we become more of who we were always meant to be—all our gifts, strengths, talents, personality—transformed through his Spirit and available for his purposes of drawing others to himself.

Hosting Christ’s presence means confessing to others quickly when we've represented him poorly. It means loving our enemies and forgiving those who hurt us. It means choosing patience toward another over our own desires for efficiency, or choosing kindness toward another over the pursuit of our own comfort. It means asking good questions and speaking truth, but with a heavy dose of humility, grace, and love.

And all of that begins by spending time in his presence. Listening to him. Learning from him. Observing him through his word. Allowing him to shape us even when that shaping feels unfamiliar, uncomfortable, or even unfair. Most of all, it happens as we abide in him, allowing his love, mercy, grace, and forgiveness toward us to transform us more into his likeness. As we experience him more fully, we can extend that same love to others. We can become hosts of the presence of Christ.

The invitation that settled my hypervigilant soul years ago in that hard wooden pew remains open today: to become a place where others encounter not just our best intentions, but Christ himself. This is both the highest calling and the daily work of every believer—to so live in his presence that his presence lives through us.

Love you guys,

CC

P.S. First, welcome to all the new readers who’ve joined over the last few months. I am so glad you’re here. Your time is valuable, and I do not take it for granted that you’ve chosen to receive these articles in your inbox.

Also, for long-time readers (and new readers), I’d love to hear from you guys! What would you like to read more of? Please send me an email at ccole@wholeheartedproject.org or leave a comment.

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Questions for Reflection

Engage the Scripture

Read and meditate on these passages:

• Matthew 18:20, ESV - “For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them.”

• 2 Corinthians 2:14-16, NLT - “But thank God! He has made us his captives and continues to lead us along in Christ’s triumphal procession. Now he uses us to spread the knowledge of Christ everywhere, like a sweet perfume. Our lives are a Christ-like fragrance rising to God. But this fragrance is perceived differently by those who are being saved and by those who are perishing. To those who are perishing, we are a dreadful smell of death and doom. But to those who are being saved, we are a life-giving perfume.”

• Acts 4:13, ESV - “Now when they saw the boldness of Peter and John, and perceived that they were uneducated, common men, they were astonished. And they recognized that they had been with Jesus.”

• Galatians 5:22-23, ESV - “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.”

• John 15:4-5, ESV - “Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.”

• Colossians 3:12-17, ESV - “Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.”

Reflect: As you read these passages, what stands out to you about God’s desire to be present with, through, and to his people?

Explore Your Story

1. Think about what you think about. A.W. Tozer once said that what comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us. What do you think about when you think about Jesus? How does that positively or negatively impact how you extend Christ to others?

2. Consider your daily interactions. Think of a time when someone has been the aroma of Christ to you. How did that experience affect you? Take a moment to reflect on this interaction in your journal.

3. Consider the people in your regular sphere of influence, such as family, coworkers, neighbors, and friends. How might they describe what it's like to be around you? Would they recognize you as someone who has “been with Jesus” after spending time with you?

Encounter the Savior

Contemplative Exercise: Set aside 10 minutes to sit quietly and imagine Jesus entering the room where you are right now. What does his presence feel like? What does his face express as he looks at you? What is he offering you: love, forgiveness, mercy, patience, comfort, compassion? Allow yourself to receive what he is extending to you, then ask: “How can I carry this same presence to others today?”

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