Thursday, April 6, 2017

small world







When things begin to seem unmanageable in the big world-

When structures built to protect our weakest begin to crumble-
                        affordable healthcare
                        immigration agencies
                        regulations protecting our natural resources
                       
When nuclear bomb testing in North Korea becomes a monthly event,

When women by the million need don knitted caps in intimate pink
                        to claim their voice,

When another suicide bombing barely captures the attention
 of our press because the numbers  of life lost were not
 by the dozen,

And when civil war turns to chemical warfare killing women, children and
           men overcome by evil gases…

When all of this happens,

I post pictures of smoothies
                           and pasta,
                           and chickpeas swimming in curried broth.

I pray.
I meditate.
I beg God’s mercy and compassion on those who are victims.

And then I capture just the right angle on tonight’s vegan dinner-
 a Lenten fast without chicken, steak, bacon or trout,
 no yogurt, cheese or butter.

The very idea that loading up on rice and beans instead of 
               meat will change me, somehow.

Nearing the end of these forty days, I am disappointed-
                seeing, now, that my kitchen is a very small world
      and that God calls me to step away from the stove
      and into the place that is (in the words of Thomas Hardy) 
madding.  Just madding.

The call to discipleship-
            sharing the love of Jesus and the Good News of resurrection
  demands change, risk, and traveling to places that are
 out of our comfort zone.


But discipleship also guarantees community.

We are not asked to go it alone.

And even disciples need to eat.


Gathering at table, Jesus told them:
 “Take, eat, this is my body.”
 “Drink this, all of you. “

Jesus didn’t eat alone. Or snap photos for his Facebook friends of tonight’s supper.

He ate. He drank. He talked. He taught. He listened. In community. 
           With the Holy Spirit swirling all around, like a nervous busboy 
                     keeping up with the pace of the meal.


May we be drawn out of our small worlds
into this big one-

            to care for each other,
  to be One in Him,
  and to know that resurrection hope is the main dish,
with enough in the bowl to feed the world.









            

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