Maybe it’s all right that the sea lapped gently at the body of Alan Kurdi, the child in the red shirt and blue shorts. Though the sea should have raged at this innocent’s death, it would have been unkind for the surf to pound his poor body.
In the morning, Sunday morning, we will gather at the table.
It is a table to which we are invited by Jesus.
It is an invitation that is made to each of us and to all.
It is an invitation that does not depend upon our deserving, but God’s generosity.
It is a table that remembers all the bounty of creation, the joy of community, the goodness of shared bread.
It is a table that remembers that we are a single human family with one heavenly father.
It is a table that remembers Jesus’ sacrifice – “This is my body, broken for you.”
It is a table that shares in the promise of human lives and human hearts and all creation made new.
It is a table that shares in the empty tomb.
It is a table that transcends time and space and unites us with the whole host of heaven.
Aylan will be there. He will be there in the arms of the Syrophoenician woman – and the man from the Decapolis will make faces with him and join in his laughter. He will be there not because he is a Christian or because he was baptized, or because he was an innocent child, but because it is the nature of God to stand with the forsaken, because it is the nature of God to provide a home for the homeless, because it is the nature of God to give life to the lifeless.
Hopefully, we who gather will see and remember and put our trust in all this.