Enjoy this . . . unsanitary . . . reflection on being a gracious guest for the sake of love and the gospel. -Paul

A barista at my favorite coffee shop asked me to come over to a party. I didn't know what kind of party it would be. Flying solo, I went to the party with potato salad in hand.

It was not the kind of party I would throw. That is for sure. By the time I got there, (almost like the time Jesus went to the wedding), people had been drinking for some time. There was dancing. Lots of it. And lots of fun. And lots, I mean lots, of alcohol. Not the kind of party this pastor is used to going to.

But the quinoa was to die for. Having finished one round, I returned to the food in the kitchen to get some more. There, standing right next to me was a classic Portland woman. Tattoos. Pant leg rolled up from the bike ride. Unshaved armpits. She saw me standing over the quinoa.

She says to me—toasted from an evening of drinking—"Good quinoa, right?"

I ...