Yesterday our family shared a meal with a house-church pastor and his family.
Their family is moving this week, so there were boxes around and only a little furniture left. But there was a table. And on that table was amazing, homemade food. And there we were, two families, gathered around the table.
In many meals there’s a special moment. You know, the moment when everyone is awestruck by the beauty of the food and grieves that we have to dig in and mess it up? That moment before the smell fills the room with anticipation and overcomes the grief? In that moment it struck me: this is a precious meal.
I knew it was precious because I knew that our friends will soon be hidden from us. They’ll find their way back to a space behind the (non-existent) fire-wall and under the watchful eye of big-brother. It was precious because we were present in a way that the internet can’t bridge. It was precious because we were present together around a table.
I told myself that, though it didn’t feel like it, this would not be our last meal. There is another meal in our future––a feast, actually. So even though this would be our final meal in this season, we ate with joy because we knew that this wasn’t our last meal.
And sharing the table with our friends reminded me that each time that we gather around the Remembering-Table we are also sharing that table with them. Though half a world separate us, though big-brother’s eye may necessitate that our relationship end, though a (non-existent) fire-wall prevent communication, our Host is One. He transcends distance and time and any big-brother foolish enough to think they hold the power. And our Host sets one table––an extension of which we were blessed to share yesterday evening.
As an aside, Trinity is an amazing place to have these kinds of experiences! After dinner our families went outside to play on the campus playground. Ours was the only English-only family. So good.
