Walmart Parking Lot

Fifth Sunday of Easter; John 14:1-12

In God’s house there are many dwelling places

Many years ago, we took our family on an epic camping trip to northern Ontario. It was the kind of trip that becomes family lore; long drives, campfire meals, kids who alternated between wonder and whining, and scenery so beautiful it almost made you forget the mosquitoes. But this story isn’t really about that trip. It’s about what happened on the way home.

We routed our return through Gaylord because we had been asked to be Godparents for the daughter of some dear friends. Knowing this, we packed our “church clothes” for all five of us; no small feat when you’re living out of a popup camper. And we decided that the night before the baptism, we’d splurge on a hotel. I suggested we make a reservation ahead of time, but she waved me off. “Don’t worry,” she said. “We’ll find a place, no problem.”

You can see where this is going.

We decided to stop in Mackinaw City so the kids could see the lights on the Bridge after dark. It felt like a magical idea, until we started looking for a hotel. One after another, every place we tried was fully booked. With each “Sorry, we’re full,” the prospect of spending the night in our camper in a Walmart parking lot loomed larger. There was one more hotel left to try. Just one. We pulled in, and she went inside while I stayed with the kids. A few minutes later, she came out with a pained expression. The kind that tells you the news is technically good, but practically terrible.

“They do have one room left,” she said. “So I booked it.”

“What’s the bad news?” I asked.

“It’$ the Pre$idential $uite.”

At least the view of the lights on the Bridge were spectacular that night.

That trip comes to mind every time I hear the beginning of today’s Gospel: “In my Father’s house there are many dwelling places.” (Jn 14:2a) I breathe a deep sigh of relief knowing that when it comes to the afterlife, I won’t have to pay for a suite, Presidential or otherwise. I won’t have to worry about camping in a Walmart parking lot. Jesus has already made a reservation for me, and it cannot be cancelled. What a relief.

And yet, so many people live as though they still have to earn their room. Some think they need to follow every rule perfectly. Some believe they must memorize Scripture cover to cover. Others feel they must log a certain number of volunteer hours or recruit a specific number of people to the faith. It’s heartbreaking, really. This idea that God is keeping a scorecard, or that heaven is some exclusive club.

Jesus tells us plainly: the room is ready. Just come.

Now, there is nothing wrong with service, or Bible reading, or prayer, or any of the practices that shape a faithful life. In fact, they’re highly recommended. They prepare my heart. They help me recognize grace when it shows up. They make me more able, and more willing, to share the Good News that God’s love is real, abundant, and meant for everyone. But none of those things are prerequisites for reserving your room. The reservation is already made.

My job is simply to tell people. All people. After all, in God’s house, all people will be there. It comes down to building relationships. Relationship with God and relationships with all people. It doesn’t matter how tall or short, big, or small, what color your face is, your gender, how you identify, who you love, or where you pray. Jesus wants all of us in paradise with him. He said so himself: “If it were not so, I would have told you, because I am going there to prepare a place for you.” (Jn 14:2b)

That promise gives me such peace. I will not be spending eternity in a popup camper in a Walmart parking lot. I won’t be scrambling for a last-minute room. I won’t have to worry if I have checked enough boxes on some heavenly list. I’ll simply be praising God with everyone in a peaceful, loving place prepared for us by a God who delights in welcoming us home.

Every Day.

© 2026 by Timothy J. Doppel

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