Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Table Talk

Personally, I think about my shoes.  Obviously when asked the question today, "What do you tell your children you think about during communion?" - I didn't blurt out that random thought or even raise my hand to share.  I hate small discussion groups.  Being an introvert by nature, it is a challenge for me to be a group participant to say the least.  I have also noticed that the random thoughts that pop into my head during such endeavors are irreverent and probably do not represent any well thought out theology.  I am not sure why I am attending this Lenten study.  Maybe because I pass no less than three Subways one my way to the church and I like to challenge myself. 

I have a girlfriend who shares my passion for great shoes.  We are both certain that given a great pair of shoes and white blouse we could save the world.  We both share the same opinion that we absolutely must have every great pair of shoes we see and that there is really no limit on how many white blouses or little black dresses hang in our closets.  Clearly, I need to work on the whole spiritual discipline of simplicity.  But I am a character that is always in need of redemption and is surprised everyday with glimpses of grace. 

I envy my girlfriend's shoes and those her daughters wear.  I would look forward every Sunday morning just to see what shoes her children were wearing.  I have a son and the most excited he ever gets about shoes are new cleats.  I do have a very strong opinion that white cleats look ridiculous on baseball players.  Unfortunately his coach does not share my fashion sense.

Back to the question.  "What do I tell my son I think about during communion?"  To be very honest I worry about my shoes.  When my son was about three or four I just worried about wrestling him back into his shoes as we walked down the aisle. 

One Sunday I was wearing a brand new pair of  t-strap pumps.  I loved those shoes.  They were turquoise.  I found them on the sale rack at Marshall's and they were Italian designer shoes.  I knelt at the altar that day and tried desperately to think on Jesus, grace, forgiveness, redemption instead of what I was going to fix for lunch.  Funny, I am sitting at the table, starving, thirsty and desperate and manna is being offered for the taking and I almost walk away hungry, having satisfied my self with a few crumbs. 

As I stood up, the strap broke on my new pumps.  Once again God in his infinite mercy saw fit to grab my attention.  It was as if He whispered in my ear, "Please sit back down, take time to taste your food. Swallow slowly otherwise you might choke and remember this isn't a drive through." Given that I almost completely fell over, I had no choice. As I tried to gracefully kneel back down at the altar and fix my shoe predicament simultaneously , I felt it and heard it.  A hand was on my head as if to hold me in place for just a moment.  The hand had a voice. The hand was real (it was the pastor's), the words they were real but I am not sure who spoke them.  Now, I never can claim to have heard God's voice before, but that day, well I am not sure.  The voice said, "Be still..." 

It kind of hit me in the face then...Bread of life...Water that quenches every thirst...Jesus was barefoot at Passover...He took his time...He was a slow eater...He took time to wash feet...He made sure everyone took their shoes off...It was to be the last time he would be with them...and he had a lot to say...Words that would be food and drink...Words that offered hope...new life...He prayed for them....

I would like to say I am still at every communion and that I always drink the last drop and eat the last crumb, but I don't.  I would like to say I have given up my love of great shoes for some more worthy spiritual practice.  But I haven't.  I am forgetful and need reminding again and again...Today I was reminded about what I think about...shoes...

May you find grace in every moment even the mundane and realize that God can use anything to speak...even Italian leather pumps...

All really is grace my friends.  It really is.

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