William Miller, a prominent Baptist preacher, had a profound influence on the early development of the Seventh-day Adventist movement. He called Christians to delve into Bible prophecy, urging them to consider that the second coming of Jesus was imminent. One unforgettable experience for me was visiting the chapel on Miller’s property, where he preached some of his most famous sermons. This chapel was built after Miller was disfellowshipped from his own church as his teachings began to draw large crowds, prompting people to seriously ask themselves: “Are we ready to meet our Savior?”
During my visit something very special happened. Our group was invited to sing hymns that once filled the hearts of the Millerites—songs about heaven and the soon return of Jesus. I found myself deeply immersed, not only in the historic atmosphere but also in the spiritual reality these songs evoked. It felt as though I was momentarily transported back to the 1800s and, in some ways, even to heaven itself—to that glorious day when Jesus will return to take us home.
The leader of our group then suggested we divide into two sides to sing the chorus of a beloved hymn called “Never Part Again,” which envisions the joy of reunion in heaven. One side of the chapel sang: “What! Never part again?” And the other side responded: “No, never part again.”
As we echoed this back and forth, the hope of eternal reunion filled the air. The promise of no more separation, no more sorrow, weighed on me as I reflected on my own hope of heaven. I imagined the joy of seeing my father again and all the other blessings awaiting me in that perfect place.
But then something startling happened.
As I stood there, lost in the beauty of the moment, my eyes drifted across the chapel. There, on the opposite side, I saw someone who had recently wronged me—deeply, painfully—just a few weeks earlier. The realization hit me like a wave: Heaven isn’t just for me. It isn’t just for my favorite people—the ones who bring me joy and comfort. It’s not about my personal happiness or even about reuniting with those I love. Heaven is for people—even those who’ve hurt me, even those I struggle to forgive.
In that moment I had to ask myself: Do I really want to be there? Let that question linger for a while.
Heaven is for people—even those who’ve hurt me, even those I struggle to forgive.
The Hospitality of Jesus
Ironically, of all the aspects of Jesus’ character that captivate me, the one that moves me to worship most often is His hospitality—His open, embracing nature. I’ve always been drawn to the stories of Jesus welcoming sinners, healing the sick, and teaching His disciples to reach out to the marginalized. These stories reveal a God who consistently extends grace to those on the fringes. Whenever I reflect on them, my heart fills with praise, and I fall more in love with God.
Think of His encounter with the woman at the well (John 4:1-26), where He broke societal norms to embrace someone deemed an outcast. Or His healing of the leper (Matt. 8:1-4), which showed His deep compassion for the physically and socially isolated. Perhaps the most striking example is His interaction with Zacchaeus (Luke 19:1-10), a tax collector despised by his community. Jesus didn’t just notice Zacchaeus—He chose to dine with him, demonstrating a profound acceptance of those society rejects.
I love this about Jesus. His openness fills me with joy, knowing I am loved by a God who embraces even the most broken and undeserving. But here’s the hard truth: living out this openness as a follower of Jesus is anything but easy.
Walking in His footsteps isn’t glamorous or effortless. Extending grace to others—especially to those who don’t share your values or who are difficult to deal with—often leads to frustration, misunderstanding, and conflict.
Challenges and Uncomfortable Realities
I could share countless examples. I recall facing hostility from an individual who felt a strong sense of ownership over a particular program. When I, alongside other leaders, made decisions that impacted its direction, they responded aggressively, sending a series of hurtful, borderline abusive text messages, insisting their way was the only way. Navigating this conflict was both painful and challenging. Sometime later this person shared that they had undergone a deliverance process in which multiple demons were cast out, revealing that, despite attending church, they had unknowingly allowed dark forces to influence their behavior. This helped me better understand the source of much of their anger.
More recently I encountered another challenging scenario at our food bank. A client displayed aggressive behavior while waiting in line, resulting in several verbal confrontations. Afterward the leaders of the food bank asked the client to leave permanently. The client contested the decision, offering a version of events that differed drastically from the leaders’ accounts. They insisted that they had only pointed out someone cutting in line and had apologized, but felt unjustly expelled.
Now, both sides feel wronged. The leaders believe their authority was undermined, while the client feels alienated from the community. I’m still working to find a resolution, but it’s a difficult balance between justice and grace.
These examples show that embracing the openness Jesus modeled is fraught with challenges and uncomfortable realities.
So how do we emulate Christ more faithfully? How can we, as communities of faith, reflect the hospitality of God that I find so captivating? I don’t pretend to have all the answers, but I will share some insights from my experiences working directly with a diverse public through the Acts of Kindness Centre, the charitable arm of Church in the Valley, where I serve as a pastor.
God’s Heaven: Liking People
The first and most important step is to learn to genuinely like people.
God loves people, and the death of Jesus on the cross is, above all, God’s loudest cry of love for humanity. It speaks volumes about His deep desire for a loving relationship with people—and not just temporarily but eternally! “For God so loved the world . . .” (John 3:16).
People are amazing, and none of us would thrive—or even exist—without the contributions of others. Learning to appreciate how people enrich your life and living in anticipation of the ways every person you encounter can impact you positively can transform your perspective. God likes people, and looking at others from that perspective changes everything.
Love Covers a Multitude of Sins: Forgiveness
Engaging with people, especially those who are difficult, isn’t about avoiding conflict but learning to navigate it well. One of the keys to this is cultivating a culture of forgiveness. Instead of expecting every interaction to be smooth, enter relationships knowing that issues will arise.
Because God has forgiven us, we have the power to forgive others. We don’t forgive out of our own strength. We forgive by embracing God’s forgiveness. And even when we don’t feel like forgiving, we humbly acknowledge that forgiveness is a divine act. Forgiveness isn’t just about our feelings—it’s about acknowledging the fact of someone’s guilt and choosing to extend the grace that God has already extended to us.
Know Your Limits: Boundaries
Creating a welcoming environment often involves establishing healthy boundaries. While you can’t control other people’s behavior, you can control your own. Determine clear boundaries in your relationships with everyone, from the easiest to the most difficult individuals. A colleague of mine often says, “Clarity is kindness,” and I’ve found that to be true.
One Enemy Has Done This: Spiritual Awareness
Finally, remember that Satan is our true adversary. Prayer and spiritual awareness are crucial. I’ve realized that some of the most difficult people I engage with may be unwittingly allowing avenues for the devil to operate. We need to remain vigilant in prayer and ask God for wisdom in these situations.
Ultimately, choose to prefer heaven as God designed it to be—a shared space where everyone experiences the fullness of life together. And remember, the goal is that one day we will never part again.
