Meeting Jesus in Washington DC

I went on pilgrimage today to an unlikely place: the capital of the United States. You may find pilgrimage a strange word choice but bear with me.

As I drove into the District, I had that strange sensation of coming to a place I knew best through photos, movies and TV shows. (When my parents visited Israel for the first time, the border agent asked them if they’d been to Israel before. My mom answered: “We’ve only seen it in the movies.”)

I’ve been to DC, once as a child with my family and just last year when a friend quickly drove me along the National Mall as a courtesy on the way somewhere else. But today I was on a mission to visit a specific place. Not the monuments nor the White House nor the Capitol Building marred by political violence more than a year ago.

I was headed to David’s Tent, a 24/7 house of prayer that’s operated on the National Mall for nearly seven years. I’ve been wanting to visit it for years, but today the LORD opened the schedule, the road, and an amazing parking spot.

I’m in Northern Virginia for a big church meeting. The second night, attendees were on their own for dinner. I asked the LORD if I could go to the Mall, and I got his assent. So I stopped for a fast-food dinner then plugged in the Lincoln Memorial into Google Maps.

That I’m-really-here feeling came as I passed the Pentagon and saw signs for the 9/11 memorial. As I approached the Lincoln Memorial, I didn’t immediately see parking so I kept going until I was on Constitution Avenue. I knew I was approaching where I’d seen David’s Tent before, so I quickly pulled over to get my bearings. To my surprise and delight, I’d stopped in an actual parking spot and I could see David’s Tent was just a short walk away. I praised God for his provision.

The sun would set soon and I did want to walk the Mall, but the Spirit directed me to the white tent. A young man and woman were singing accompanied only by a guitar as maybe three people were seated among the neat rows of white chairs.

The place was immediately familiar to me though it was my first time. I served at a 24/7 house of prayer in Jerusalem more than 10 years ago. I’ve also been in many churches all over the world. You know when you are on holy ground, a space made sacred by the faithful worship of the Creator God, the God of Abraham. I quickly felt safe and welcome, beckoned by the Spirit to lay down my burdens and drink the Living Water that Jesus offers us (John 4:10, 7:37).

Jesus met me there and refreshed me. As tourists and locals walked passed not really caring what this seemingly random tent was doing in the midst of a national park, a handful of us worshipped God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. We proclaimed Jesus as the Son of God and the Son of Man. We declared it in song. And God met us there.

Good Christians at my big church meeting don’t know David’s Tent exists. It’s outside their worship style and dogmatics. It’s nowhere on their radar. That’s OK. We serve a big God who loves diversity.

I write to tell you this so you take heart that God is being worshipped and sought in the midst of our national capital. God knows about our lingering racial problems, gun violence, financial woes, and our biggest fears. He knows about the sexual abuse in our churches. He wants to heal us. He’s waiting for us sinners to repent and humble ourselves before him and each other so that forgiveness, healing, and reconciliation can flow. He’s waiting for us to submit our hearts, minds, lives to Jesus the Messiah, who ever lives to plead our case before the throne of heaven.

Meanwhile, there’s a Gideon band lifting up the Name of Jesus in the shadow of the Washington Monument. I’m grateful for their faithfulness. I’m so glad Jesus — the author and finisher of our faith — is faithfully before the Father on our behalf even when we are mired in our sin.

Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand. Jesus is at hand, ever at hand. He is waiting for you to surrender to his love, his cleansing blood and water, his cruciform yoke.