Eating with Enemies

In my last post, “Why Jesus Loves a Potluck,” I mentioned that those opposing Jesus find fault with the fact that he eats with pretty much anyone. Their anger is palpable in the accusation against him: “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them” (Luke 15:2, NRSV). I want to explore this notion of sharing a meal with unlikely dining partners and what this might look like and lead to in our lives.

As I often do, I will start with a story. I was serving as a youth director my sophomore year of college. I had been on the job only a month or so and had little clue what I was doing. A youth director I admired mentioned occasionally going to eat lunch with my students at school. Not only would I get to visit with my students and meet their friends, but also the teachers and administrators at the school would learn who I am and that I am a partner with them in caring for youth. One day I made my way to the school, and as I entered the cafeteria, tangible memories of middle school flooded back to me. At that time, who I ate lunch with felt like a life or death matter. The tables were more exclusive than any country club, and trying to break in to a different table (of course one of higher social standing) was a fool’s errand. But now I was in college. I had a pretty decent car. I would be welcomed with open arms at any table - especially that of my students, right? At first, not so much, because I was still a stranger and an outsider.

Throughout our lives, the decisions about who we share a meal with shape us in powerful ways. We may scoff at the scribes and Pharisees for making such a big deal about Jesus’ lunch partners, but when I turn the mirror back on myself, I must confess that I typically eat with friends, colleagues, and people I already know and like much more than I share food with strangers and those I find it difficult to be around.

Psalm 23 includes a line that has often puzzled me: “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies” (Psalm 23:5, NRSV). The “you” is referring to God. So, in this incredibly beloved passage there is a line about God sitting us down for a meal with our enemies. How often do we ignore this line and the scene it invokes? It reminds me of one of my favorite Seinfeld episodes. Jerry is given a suit by hack comedian Kenny Bania (who Jerry of course cannot stand). Bania suggests that perhaps Jerry could take him to lunch as a gesture for the suit. Jerry hates the very idea of this, but gives in. When they first go for lunch, Bania isn’t all that hungry and only orders soup. Jerry insists, “That’s the meal!” because he can’t imagine having to eat with Bania ever again.

So who is your Kenny Bania? Who can you not imagine sharing a meal with? In our increasingly divided world, we often hate the very idea of someone else so much that we actually dehumanize them. We make them our enemy and say things like, “I wouldn’t pour water on them if they were on fire.” Especially as the US prepares for a presidential election - one that has already gone off the rails in contention and mudslinging - we who follow Jesus would do well to remember that he ate with those who seemed to have nothing in common with him, even his enemies, even those who would betray him and hand him over to death.

Honestly, I can’t imagine eating with certain people, and by certain people I mean Donald Trump. And yet when I have felt that about other people and have been forced to eat with them, I find that they are actually human. We may disagree about everything, and yet there is something that happens through sharing food together. The word “companion” literally means “with bread.” A companion is simply someone you share bread with. Who might God be calling you to share bread with as we seek reconciliation and newness of life?

Why Jesus Loves a Potluck

Recently I did some writing for wesleymen.org around the subject of food (yes, quite possibly my favorite subject). You are welcome to read the posts there, but I thought I'd include them on the blog as well. Enjoy!

Why Jesus Loves a Potluck

I recently attended a worship service with a group of students from the campus ministry I serve. The students were leading music for the service. After the service I assumed we would all go out for lunch. After all, sharing food together is crucial in our campus ministry. When the service concluded we were invited to a potluck lunch at the church. I expected my students to decline politely. Our city has endless options for food, and I thought they would want to take advantage of being treated to something they might not otherwise eat. How wrong I was! They quickly accepted the invitation to the potluck and raved about the homemade options. Their enthusiasm made me ponder Jesus’ feelings about a potluck meal as well as connections between a potluck and the call to feed the hungry. I concluded that Jesus loves the practice of potlucks and wants us to follow the principles of a potluck as we seek to share good food with others. 

It is clear to me that Jesus loves a potluck because Jesus appears to love any act of sharing food with others. The story that first comes to mind is that of feeding a mass of people with a few loaves of bread and fish (Matthew 14:13-21 and 15:32-39, Mark 6:30-44 and 8:1-10, Luke 9:10-17, John 6:1-14). But this instance is only scratching the surface. Jesus is seen in the gospels constantly eating with others. He boldly invites himself to a meal at Zacchaeus’ house (Luke 19:1-10). One of the charges leveled against Jesus is that he “welcomes sinners and eats with them” (Luke 15:2). Yes, it seems he will eat with anyone. In his final act before his death he shared a meal with his closest friends (Matthew 26:17-30, Mark 14:12-25, Luke 22:7-23, John 13:1-20). After the resurrection, he is still eating with others (Luke 24:13-43, John 21:9-14). It is clear through Jesus’ actions that he feels there is something holy about sharing food together. 

If sharing food together is truly an act of holiness it makes sense to include two principles of a potluck: bring your best and welcome everyone. The epic potlucks I have attended were like a competition on The Food Network. Each person or family brought their best dish. Many people would share food from a recipe that had been in their family for generations. I believe this is a model for how we should share food with others. Often I see those who are hungry receive cheap, and frankly bad food. This is both inhospitable and unhealthy. When we share food with others we should offer something we ourselves want to eat. In fact, I am a firm believer in actually eating the food we share with our neighbors (which hopefully includes everyone - because it does in Jesus’ case). It strikes me that Jesus does not call us simply to distribute food. Rather, when possible, I believe Jesus wants us to share in the meal together, because the act of sharing food together leads us to experience the sustenance of God together. 

As is often the case, my students taught me something that day at church. A fancy meal out is all well and good, but a potluck is holy because the best food is shared with everyone as we meet Jesus together in the breaking of bread.

On Being Relevant

Recently a close friend asked me my thoughts on the idea of relevancy, particularly as it relates to the Church. Here's what I shared. Toward the end I quote someone directly and it contains a "saucy" word, so if that bothers you please don't read that part. 

When I hear of a group, particularly a church, seeking to be “relevant” I typically ask, “In whose eyes are you wishing to be relevant?” My gut inclination is that many groups do not have well-reasoned responses to this question. They desire some kind of general relevancy. In other words, these groups don’t want to be ignored or forgotten. Unfortunately, those who can articulate a sense of this relevancy they crave do so in a competitive sense. They wish to capture attention the way this or that other church does. It quickly becomes akin to keeping up with the Joneses and little more. 

The overarching concern I have is that relevance is rarely measured in God’s eyes. Of course, God does not call any person or group (that I have found) in Scripture to be relevant. Rather persons and groups are called to be holy and faithful. Relevancy doesn’t seem to be on the radar for God, probably because any kind of relevancy that matters to God is understood through God creating and calling God’s children. By creating humans, God is saying, “You matter to me always.” If we want to say this makes us relevant to God, then sure, I suppose that’s fair. But we must also follow this to say there is nothing we can do or not do to be more or less relevant to God. God created us and loves us, full stop.

However, it is clear that we have insecurity about God’s love. We often feel we have to earn God’s love, and that if we have done something wrong (which we most certainly have), then God must love us less. I think there is also an assumption that if a certain group or church seems to be displaying more fruit, then perhaps God loves them more or they are more relevant. This is incorrect, but it’s a pervasive belief. We measure ourselves against others. Israel did this regularly and found herself lacking. Despite being called by God to be a holy nation (set apart for God’s purposes) Israel constantly felt small, weak, and insecure when compared to other nations. Perhaps the clearest example of this is Israel’s desire for a king. Through this request Israel specifically says, “We want to be like the other nations” (1 Samuel 8:5). Essentially they are saying, “We want to be relevant.” Samuel delineates for the people what their request will bring, and it’s not particularly good news (1 Samuel 8:10-18). Nevertheless, the people will not relent and ask again for a king in other to be like other nations (1 Samuel 8:19-20). Yahweh gives them what they request, and although there are some bright moments, Israel’s monarchy is mostly a disaster. In retrospect, kings are blamed for the nation’s journey into utter faithlessness, the nation’s fall to the other nations it desired to copy, and destruction/diaspora. 

One would hope that Israel had learned its lesson by the time Jesus appears. And yet, we see more of the same. Jesus is often asked by those who oppose him, “Why aren’t you like everyone else? Other teachers do this, why do you not?” In Mark 2, Jesus calls Levi, the tax collector. Others grumble and question why Jesus eats with tax collectors and sinners. Jesus responds, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick; I have come to call not the righteous but sinners” (Mark 2:17). Jesus chooses to spend the bulk of his time with those who are irrelevant, at least in the eyes of that culture. 

The pursuit of relevance is not the pursuit of discipleship. Emptying oneself and serving others is what God asks of us time and again. We are not to do this for any other reason beyond God’s call of love on our lives, because we ourselves are to point with our lives to God rather than using God to point out to others how important we are. One of my mentors in faith is theologian Stanley Hauerwas. A few years ago, as he was working on a theological memoir, he shared words very close to these: “Everyone wants to be relevant. Fuck being relevant. Your life just isn’t that interesting.” I am forced to agree. Of course I would love to think that I had new insight on God’s love. And I would quickly put myself in the place of God if I did not surround myself with a community to remind me time and again that I am created and loved by God - but I am most certainly not God. By creating, loving, and calling us, we are as relevant to God as we need to be. Anything else is seeking to make ourselves more interesting and captivating than God. And the word for this is “idolatry.”