I had a waking dream as I looked up from the stony field I was tilling, my nose so close to the grindstone, my focus on the seeds that I was turning loose. Squinting in the sunlight, I wondered aloud, “What exactly is it that I’m doing?” In the hustle and rush of this unpredictable rhythm and wild flow of time, I stopped, for just a heartbeat, to see the holiness and reverence in this now. What have I been growing, and why? I often feel overwhelmed by it all. And then came another question and a choice: What table am I setting?
In its’ most distilled form, the gospel passage* is a tale of two tables. King Herod imprisoned John the baptizer for telling the truth, which happened to include a painful truth about Herod. John had the king’s ear, and a little bit of his heart, but it didn’t knit. Herod set a table full of things that could not satisfy, with place settings only for those who help maintain the charade of his significance. Pride swells up in his small self, the place where isolation and war are born. Saving face, protecting his eggshell feelings, a grotesque wish is granted by the anxious king: John is murdered as a party favor. Killed for setting the table for a Light Bringer, Jesus, who had come to host the heart of God… to swing wide the door… to flutter invitations to every corner, welcoming all who hunger for belonging.
Shortly after my waking dream, I had the privilege of helping to set a new table. Two powerful young men of color, like younger brothers to me, met for the first time. It had long been my dream to introduce these kingly mentors… to see what magic they would create… what gold would be spun from the alchemy of their kinship… our kinship. Both men bear the inner scars of cycles of poverty and addiction, of systemic racism, of being pushed to the margins where so many lose their way, and their lives. I listened to them like I would the prophets. These brave chosen ones have not only survived, they sing now a new song with resonant voices, deep and rich, full of hope that can change the world… a burning desire that a firehose can’t put out.
In the breaking of bread, we were made known to each other around this table, and then broke ourselves open. With our small selves laid low, divinity rises. We are the light bringers now. We are the hosts. We are the beloved of God, sharing tears, and all else that we have, dreaming waking dreams of new tables. Join us.
*Mark 6:12-29 (The Message)
–Jim Marsh, Jr., Bread of Life Church
