a tale of three meals

I have eaten three significant meals in immediate succession…

Last night I sat in the congregation. It’s not very often that I get to do this, without any involvement in a service, but the service at Colchester Baptist Church last night was led by one of our members and the sermon was preached by a fellow minister from another Baptist church in Colchester (thanks Steve). Steve also led us in sharing Communion together. the Baptist ‘liturgy’ (if we would ever admit to having one) is fairly simple, yet last night I had a shiver go down my spine as I heard the familiar words from 1 Corinthians 13 and the phrase “for you” became very prominent to me.

This morning I gathered with fellow Christians from Colchester at the site of one of the earliest Christian churches in the country: dating from the first half of the fourth century AD. It is St Helena’s Day today and it is believed she founded that church. She was also the mother of the first Christian Roman Emperor, Constantine, and is the adopted saint of the town of Colchester. A statue of her sits on the top of the Town Hall, as she faces towards Jerusalem holding a cross aloft. That cross is the highest point in the town. At the church (picture from Peter Herring, one of the service is below) we shared Communion together, led by the Bishop of Colchester. The liturgy was a little more formal than last night, but it was moving nonetheless: made poignant by the sound of the traffic going alongside us and the presence of a police station adjacent to the site of the church.

I reflected briefly on the fact that some of the cells were next to us, and Jesus would have been placed in a holding cell at some stage during his arrest, trial and before his crucifixion. But what struck me most this morning was the phrase Jesus uttered on the cross (and one I mentioned yesterday morning in my sermon): the astonishing prayer on behalf of his tormentors, enemies and executioners, “Father, forgive them.” It became very personal to me at that moment – I am one of the ‘them’ for whom he sought forgiveness.

The third meal took place afterwards when some of those who had been at the early morning communion shared breakfast at CO1, which is in Trinity Church – a mere 1000 year old church building in the heart of Colchester. What felt significant was how friends from different churches and different traditions could eat together and enjoy one another’s company. I am both a strong denominationalist (a Christian who is of a Baptist persuasion by conviction) and a strong ecumaniac (once describing myself as ‘ecumenically promiscuous’ – I will work with anyone for the sake of the Gospel). But this morning, perhaps because the first meal we shared together, we were brothers and sisters in Christ who were eating together.

I think that there is something very significant about eating together. That is one reason why I think Communion is so significant both personally and missionally. It is not only a meal of remembrance or commemoration, it is a moment of encounter where the reality of God’s love, the visceral encounter with forgiveness is made real by the tangible bread and wine. I think that as we eat together we recognise our common humanity: we all need to eat to survive. What unites us becomes more important than what divides us.

At a recent Church Meeting it was suggested that we should be more hospitable: inviting people into our homes. If that means we eat together, then ‘Amen’ and ‘Hallelujah’!

Be blessed, be a blessing.

Poor Sid had fallen on hard times. He lost his job, his wife had left him, his benefits had been stopped, and he was evicted from his home. He packed what little he had in a rucksack, made a little sign that read “Will work for food” and set off down the road on foot.

Towards the middle of the day, he came to a farmhouse. He was getting very hungry, and so he knocked on the front door. A woman answered, and Sid explained his situation, and how he could do most anything and how hungry he was.

At first the woman wanted nothing to do with Sid, but he persisted. Finally she asked “Are you any good at painting and decorating?”

“Oh yes, ma’am,” Sid said, “I can paint. I’ve done a lot of painting. Just let me show you. I won’t let you down.”

The woman relented, found a can of paint and a brush and said, “You go around back and paint the porch, and I’ll give you some lunch.”

Happily, Sid went to work.

An hour later Sid knocked on the front door.

“Are you finished so soon?” asked the woman.

“Oh yes,” said Sid, “but I think you ought to know that it’s a Mercedes, not a Porsche.”