The Pieces Left Over

This past week we held a celebration of the life and connection of our church in my backyard.
We made plans for food, games, seating.
We invited our friends, neighbors, and community to celebrate with us.
I spent a good amount of time preparing our home for the gathering, making sure that we could have a good flow of people in and out of the house if necessary, ensuring the bathrooms were clean and well stocked, and prepping the lawn for a big tent
and tables
and chairs
and feet.

What I hadn't anticipated was that the weather would drop 30 degrees the night before and everybody would have to bring out their jackets and blankets. But even still, our turn out was good, there was more than enough food for everyone and after all of the cleanup I still had time to put my feet up before passing out for the night.

I have found that I am eternally grateful for the responsiveness of dedicated people. When I first came in to this church I put this event on our calendar to usher in a new season. I knew that as I put it on the calendar the church had gathered for their church picnic only a month prior. I was worried that we would suffer from an over abundance of cookout related events and that there wouldn't be any enthusiasm for more.

What I found instead was a church willing to go back to it again. And as I prepared coffee in the kitchen, I looked out the window and saw a familiar sight:

Jesus said to his disciples, “Make them sit down in groups of about fifty each.” They did so and made them all sit down. And taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven, and blessed and broke them, and gave them to the disciples to set before the crowd. And all ate and were filled. What was left over was gathered up, twelve baskets of broken pieces.

The sharing of a meal is a sign to the world of who is included and who isn't. Meals play a huge role in the Gospel of Luke, they reveal to us the willingness of Christ to bring all people together to the table. So fitting it was to see some old friends, those who once broke bread together under the same roof, reunite and join together with new faces, new lives to be touched, transformed and loved.

Jan Richardson says that "It is part of the miracle: how Jesus, with such intention, cares for the fragments following the feast. He sees the abundance that persists, the feast that remains within the fragments."

When I looked out my window I saw long standing church members sitting down on property that they help maintain, that they labored over, that they helped build brick by brick, that they prepared for my wife and I before we came. They were joined by neighbors, some new, some that they remembered from way back when, some that had walked away long ago.

When I believed there was scarcity in our preparation, God found abundance. Where I believed that this was simply a community gathering, God saw the broken pieces that we leave through our lives and began to pick them up. Our churches share deep roots with their communities. Some of those roots will lead to greater growth through careful nurturing. Others may have been damaged along the way and are in need of Christ's patience to collect the broken pieces for replanting. But all are invited, all are gathered in, and all may find welcome rest here among the family of God.