I really like cheese grits. I grew up south of the Mason-Dixon and went to college and seminary in Atlanta, where I solidified my passion for cheese grits. Cheddar grits are great. Cheddar grits with a little bit of jalapeño diced up in them are even better.
But now I live in New England, land of oatmeal. Occasionally there will be sightings of cheese grits at restaurants in the bigger cities, offered as a special by some exiled Southern chef, but those meals are few and far between. Once I took an extra order home for breakfast from a restaurant in Northampton. The waitress encouraged me to put maple syrup on them. Sacrilege.
The other day Heidi said that she wanted to make me pulled pork barbecue and cheese grits. She had never made them before, but she’s a good cook. I figured that if any Yankee could pull them off, it was her. Which is why I found myself searching through a Vermont grocery store this week, desperately seeking some sort of package of grits. It didn’t look promising, but finally, under boxes of oatmeal, and Cream of Wheat, and whatever else passes for acceptable substitutes for what I believe must surely be God’s favorite breakfast food, I found a sad little canister of quick grits made by a less-than-trusted brand.
Better subpar grits than no grits, right? My heart sank as I put them in the cart.
In Advent we prepare to remember something that the world did not expect. There may have been signs that something special was coming 2000 years ago, but no one knew how and no one expected the way it would come. When people went looking for a Messiah, wouldn’t they have looked for a strong and powerful man? One who was rich? One who was well-known to the religious powers-that-be? Would they really have ever looked for a baby born in a barn behind the inn, with an unwed woman as his mother?
But that’s how Jesus did come. And that’s how Christ still comes today.
Last night we had cheese grits with dinner. I can say without a doubt that they are the best grits I have ever eaten. They were perfectly cooked, wonderfully complemented with cheddar, and slightly spiced with the peppers. I turned to Heidi and joked, “well done, thy good and faithful Yankee.” I never thought the best grits of my life would be cooked by a upstate New York girl in a house in Vermont.
But really, I should expect the unexpected. I should expect that because I’m a follower of the one who came to be with us, to transform this world, not in power and might, but as a child. And, like I said, that’s how Christ still comes today: unexpected, lighting up the most lonely and desolate places, changing everything. Jesus still comes into this world in ways that are as surprising as outstanding grits coming out of a Vermont kitchen. And if we just open our hearts up to the possibilities, we will find him all around us, even in those unexpected places. Especially in those.
Question: What surprising places have you seen Jesus this Advent?
Prayer: Holy God, you send our son to bless us in the most unexpected places. As we approach Christmas, open our hearts up to Christ’s presence. Help us to see all the ways that Christ is breaking into our lives and into the world. And give us the joy that comes from finding Christ’s surprising gifts in surprising places. Amen.