Room at the Table

This song by Carrie Newcomer has become important for us at the prison and for me as I think about life and ministry. There’s a sweet video of this song, full of dancing feet; I’m not sure what the dancing has to do with the welcoming table, but I dare you to watch it and not smile.

I wonder, though, is it true?

No matter who you are, no matter where you’re from,
There is room at the table for everyone.
Here and now we can be, the beloved community,
There is room at the table for everyone.

There is room for us all, and no gift is too small.
There is room at the table for everyone.
There’s enough if we share, come on pull up a chair.
There is room at the table for everyone.

from https://www.carrienewcomer.com/lyrics, “A Permeable Life” album

In the news this week are those who say it’s not true; there should be no room at the communion table, at least, for those who are not anti-abortion. My friend and colleague Bill Mefford expresses well the counter-argument for an open table. Of course there must be room at the table! The very nature of the table is room.

#FoolishChurch says, “Go ahead. Make it true.” Live out the songs you sing with smiles and hope.

So, leaving this week’s kerfuffle aside, …

…pause for a moment and picture yourself at your table, either at home or the “table” that is your church. Sit there and look around. Who is already there that challenges you, to make room for them? Imagine yourself taking that empty seat next to them. Start a simple conversation laced with friendliness. See a sincere smile pass between you.

Now, take another moment and wonder: Who could walk through your doors right now, that you’d struggle to make room for? Take a breath, and maybe a second one. Now imagine pulling up that chair, rearranging things around the table–and in yourself–so that they could join in the meal and festivity that’s happening there.

Before we get carried away with all this kum ba yah, let me clarify one thing. There may be people who aren’t safe to be at the table with you; I don’t mean to push you to sit next to your unrepentant abuser, nor the person who has left you with still-bleeding wounds. Sometimes our song has to shift to “room at a table,” as healing makes room in us to wish them well, but elsewhere. That may be plenty foolish, under the circumstances.

“Room at the table, for everyone.” Maybe the singing is the first (dancing?) step.