Next Step for Queen Mary

That whole "everything is a sacrament" idea came from reading Robert Farrar Capon's books, for example Supper of the Lamb. It really does change the way I look at such disparate things as marauding deer and encroaching weeds.

One of my enduring memories of Grace & Peace Fellowship, the church in St. Louis where we had 52 potluck dinners every year, was that nothing was fake. We had real china dishes, not paper plates. Squeeze margarine was forbidden. Bread was the genuine stuff. Dinner was more than a way to get fed after church; it was a theological decision to share our lives and express our understanding of the Kingdom of God. And "potluck" really meant potluck. There was no arranging. Nobody assigned main dishes, etc. Whatever people brought we ate.

One problem we had, which is similar to a problem in Mansfield, was quantity. People like to think of a potluck as a free meal. More than once at our local church, I've seen a family of four show up for dinner with a two-cup portion of green beans (or sometimes two cans of beans still in the can!) as their potluck contribution. It would be interesting to see what supper is like in that house. Do the four people somehow get by on the equivalent of two cups of beans? Or do they eat something else? Perhaps more.

Next question

Let's assume we've got the idea that God actually likes the natural creation and likes the idea of people sharing food. What's next?

Perhaps I've been unjust in accusing national radio personages of preaching isolation, but the message came from somewhere. One of my friends tells me that a church elder approached him at his wedding reception (this was a decade ago or more) and said, "Now it's time for you to dump your friends and concentrate on your wife." My dear friend W was a frequent companion for coffee, evenings of TV, and hikes in the park. Then he found a wife and I never heard from him again. And anyone who has been to a GFC potluck remembers the whole idea of "family tables," particularly if you have been told that you can't sit with someone because they are trying to reserve a table for their own family.

Now the threatening question: does an emphasis on hospitality split and endanger families?

It is really difficult to have a rational discussion on this one, particularly because the conservative side of the USA spends a lot of attention on paranoid, hysterical rhetoric. It seems that absolutely everyone who isn't on my Form 1040 is an enemy. Everyone is aiming at undermining the core of MY family. Nobody is on my side. I need to be very bristly and keep everyone on the other side of the door. Maybe with a gun.

Nothing could be much further from the spirit of the New Testament. The New Testament believers seem to have been open, friendly people who would share their belongings with others, people whose lifestyles were so attractive that nonbelievers were attracted even before the theology and tracts began. Apparently, they actually thought God would take care of them when they spent their money and time on strangers.

Or consider the example of Jesus. He had close friends and was such a frequent dinner guest that the more "proper" religious folks were scandalized. It wasn't just the preaching. Religious authorities objected to his social life. He acutally liked being with people, even the less clean ones.

OK—now the real next step

Few of us actually know anyone. Even among fellow church members, a dinner invitation would be a frightening matter of picking a random name from the church directory. So we need something a little less intimidating, something that doesn't seem to challenge the encapsulated nuclear family structure. The next step must:

• not make me feel like I'm going to be judged
• not raise the defenses of those who are afraid that everyone wants to invade their family space
• feel natural—at least to some extent
• somehow build on existing relationships
• somehow be an on-ramp to something more.

The one-shot "dinner with a stranger" thing last summer was a pretty good idea, but it only happened once. How about something continuing—perhaps as simple as having coffee after church in a place where people can actually sit down? Maybe even with generous cupcakes and muffins?