Finding Faith at the Lunch Table

If I think back to the first moment when faith sunk in deep into my life, it would be sitting around a lunch table at Simpson College. 

I wasn’t actually a college student then, but a sophomore in high school participating in our Youth Annual Conference.  It was hosted there at the college every year and it was an opportunity for youth leadership to be developed, new friendships to be made, and for us to explore faith in a totally different way.

I had been floating around the periphery of church for a while.  I went to Sunday School a few times as a youngster.  We went on Christmas Eve with my grandparents.  I had been to funerals and weddings.  And I had a number of friends who were Christian and often invited me along to church.  But their experiences of faith were not my own.  I wanted to know more about Jesus, but I never quite felt like I totally fit in with their traditions.  Looking back, they were more conservative and evangelical than where I eventually ended up, so perhaps early on I was sensing that wasn’t where I belonged. 

I remember vividly in the fall of my sophomore year, however, that my mom realized I had not yet been confirmed and we started going to church as a family.  Both sides of our family had been United Methodist, so we went to the biggest church we could find nearby.  And I was instantly hooked.  I joined the youth choir and the youth bells.  I started confirmation.  I went to youth group.  Because it was a large church, my social circle instantly expanded with students from other area high schools all becoming my new best friends.  It was a really amazing time. 

And that spring, we went to Youth Annual Conference.  We were a small group, even though it was a large church – just my mom; the youth pastor, Todd; another student and myself.  It was my first experience of holy conferencing and resolutions and voting on legistation.  It was my first experience of a praise band.  It was my first chance to really understand what it might mean to be United Methodist.

But it was a conversation around the lunch table that really got me hooked.  Others had been debating about whether or not we should listen to pop music, but Todd had just been rapping in the lunch line the whole “Fresh Prince of Bel Aire” song.  And when he finally joined in the conversation, he talked about how he had used a Judas Priest song in youth group one night.  This was many years ago, but I remember he talked about redeeming rather than rejecting culture.  He talked about asking better questions in the face of music and narratives and people we don’t on the surface agree with, finding out what makes them tick and what they are trying to say, so we can speak with them. And I knew, right then, that I could claim that kind of faith. 

In his book, Falling Upward, Richard Rohr talks about the two halves of our lives.  The time we spend creating the container for our lives (identity, security, relationships) and then the time we spend living in and discovering the life we have built for ourselves.  He writes that a type of spiritual awakening or falling apart happens in between the two of them…. when we realize we can’t just keep going on and building that container for ever, we actually have to start exploring what it means to live in this life we have created.

In the life of faith, one way this can be described is the move from law to grace.  In the first half of our lives, we need the rules of faith: don’t kill, love God, pray this way.  Rules lay the foundations… but the law itself is not the end.  Rohr quotes the Dalai Lama here: “Learn and obey the rules very well, so you will know how to break them properly.” Grace is helping the man get his oxen out of a hole on the sabbath.  Grace is releasing the adulteress and telling her to go and sin no more.  Grace is meeting people out of love rather than judgment. 

Because I came to my faith a little bit later in life, my religious experience was never steeped in law and judgment language.  That being said, I was one of those “good girls” who tried to always follow the rules.  I got straight A’s.  I never drank in high school, or smoked, or experimented in any way. I had enough formation in rule following in other aspects of my life.

In fact, I think in many ways, the church I discovered in places like that lunch table helped to break down and expand that initial container I had built for myself.  My experiences of Jesus and religion were the catalyst for some big changes in my life.  I moved from a desire to be a scientist/meterologist to a religion major.  I found myself moving towards people who were all about breaking the rules…. in both healthy and not so healthy ways.  But because my initial experiences of church were fairly traditional, I have maintained an ability to see and converse with all sorts of different faith languages. We don’t discard the containers we build in the first half, Rohr says, but they become the stuff we build from.

I am living in a very different sort of faith life than I ever imagined was possible sixteen years ago, when I sat down at that lunch table.  I have been an advocate and fundraiser for global health.  I have ministered in cities and small towns.  I’m about to become the senior pastor of a mid-sized church in the city. But as I continue to live into my relationship with God, the desire to get to know and understand someone or something where it is and start from there is what continues to drive me.

potluck worship

A colleague of mine recently forwarded an email about potlucks and banquets.  It was written by  Dr. Ed Robinson, the president of MidAmerica Nazarene University in Olathe, KS.

photo by: Gözde Otman
Dr. Robinson asks us if our worshipping experiences are more like banquets or potlucks.  And by that he means: do you come to worship and wait to be served, or do you bring something to the experience and try what is offered by others?  (You can read the full article here)
I think it is a fascinating metaphor for both our worshipping life and our experience as the church.  Is the church a place and a program that meets your needs or are you an active participant with something to contribute?  Are you being served or are you serving? Are you a person in a pew or a part of the body of Christ?

I happen to love food.  And I love potlucks even more.  I’m not sure that you can be a good methodist withoutloving these two things!  So, it’s probably obvious where I fall and where I encourage you to land in the choice between a banquet church and a potluck church.

But how do we turn our churches into potlucks?  How do we encourage folks to bring something to the table? (or the sanctuary?)

First, I think we need to create opportunities in worship for folks to be active.  Participation in a responsive liturgy is not enough.  We need to ask people to get up, move around, think, respond, speak, and do things in worship.
This can be scary for churches that are accustomed to stand and sit worship.  But what I have found is that people are hungry for the chance to be stimulated mentally, physically, and spiritually.
In my own congregation, we have interactive worship every so often.  It is never something that is forced upon folks; people can stay seated if they want to. What is important is that whatever we are doing directly is related to the message for the day.
One of the first pieces of interactive worship we used related to the Lent 1 text from Genesis in cycle B.  As we remembered God’s promise to Noah after the flood – we affirmed, as a congregation, that we are blessed by God.  We proclaimed that God desires not the death of a sinner, but that we all repent and live. We celebrated that God promises  to be, and has been, with us through the storms of our lives.
Our youth group prepared the canvases by painting them red, orange, yellow, green, blue and purple.  Then, following a brief mediation on the texts, I invited people to come and paint on these canvases signs of God’s promises to us.  We remembered how God has shown us grace and mercy.  We wrote words of hope and life.
Those canvases still hang at the front of our sanctuary.
Second, worship needs to connect with the congregation on a deeply personal level.  It is not enough to simply preach a sermon that talks about the world around us – it needs to apply to what they are daily struggling with.
I have borrowed and adapated resources from a number of different locations, but one of my favorite sites is creativeprayer.com.  One Sunday for worship, we talked about the sins in our own lives and used this idea for confession with sand. All around the room we place 2 gallon buckets filled with sand and handed each person a brown paper lunch sack.  As we wandered around the room, we read the questions above each bucket and if that applied to us, we put a scoop of sand in our bag. They got heavy.  It was a personal journey for each of us – and yet no one could see how much we were carrying.  It was between me and God.
Near the end of worship, we took those heavy bags and we laid them before the cross.  It was one of the most powerful worship experiences we have had in our church, because the message hit you personally.  You carried the weight of your sin to the cross and left it there.  Literally.

Third, the voices of the congregation need to have a space to be heard in worship.You cannot participate if you are not allowed to speak, to sing, to respond, to question.

While we don’t do this every Sunday (and sometimes I wonder, why not!), every so often our worship takes on a form of lectio divina.  We ask folks to reflect on the scriptures and to share with one another what they think.  There are other days when I ask folks to respond with their own questions.  Even hymn sings provide the opportunity for individuals to share their favorite music and why it is a meaningful selection from their own experience.

I have also realized that there are some people who will never speak up during church.  They don’t feel comfortable in front of large groups.  I have attempted at various times to engage in The Roundtable Pulpit: Where Leadership & Preaching Meet sessions where a small group of folks help me to reflect on the text for the coming week.  Those questions and ideas are then woven into the sermon.  It provides an opportunity for voices other than my own to be heard and included.  I love the concept, I have just had a difficult time getting a diversity of people to show up for the weekly gatherings.

Just as we have fantastic cooks in our local congregations, so too do we have people who are gifted in word, song, dance, creativity, passion, experience, and dedication.  Just as we celebrate the good eats that come to the table when we feast together, so too should worship be a feast to God with all people offering together.