Images: At The (Noisy) Table

Last night, I went to the Fat Tuesday service at St. Mark's Lutheran Church here in Spokane.  Each year, they use a jazz liturgy written by a congregation member (and professor at Whitworth) for the season of Epiphany, and this service marks the end of that season with a festive time of worship AND an awesome dessert buffet after.  This is the third year I've attended this service, and as I was seated in the very back row (inconvenient for the most of the service, but strategic in terms of who gets to the dessert tables first), I got to watch just about everyone take communion before it was our turn to stand and shuffle forward through the line to the front of the sanctuary.  What I was struck by last night was what a joyful, messy, noisy family we are.  People are chatting with each other as they wait their turn, catching up with people and talking about how wonderful the music is that night (all the while talking over that very music).  Hugs are exchanged, backs are patted.  Kids are jabbering, old people are talking loudly.  The language generally used by the Church in describing communion is that of "coming to the table," the image being that of Christ setting the table of the Last Supper for his disciples, and Him continuing to set the table for us now, with his very own body and blood as the bread and wine.  Following this metaphor and my experiences in various churches, some families sit down at the table very solemnly, trying by sheer concentration to add significance to something seemingly comprised of everyday elements.  Others come to the table a little bit bored, missing the other-ness of this tradition.  Still others are a bit skimpy in their portions- offering you just a tiny bit of food and eye-dropper sized portion of drink.  I have been to one church where the family sits down to a table of plenty, and we are encouraged to eat up because God's grace does not run out.  Last night, the image was of a family coming to the table full of life and energy and gratitude, a messy mix of the sacred and the ordinary.  Often just before serving communion, many worship service leaders say "The gifts of God, for us, the people of God."  Undoubtably, the gifts they are referring to are the bread and the wine, but last night I was reminded that the family- quirky, strange, and noisy people that they are- the family is part of the gift as well.