Full, we pushed our chairs back from the table, and two familiar
sybols remained at the head of the table. The closest thing I've seen
here to a tortilla. A goblet of wine.* Entirely inviting, and entirely
off limits until we confess.
Yes, confess.
Wander around the dining room asking everyone one by one if I've done (or haven't done) anything to offend them, admitting the things I've done to hurt and devalue, offering forgiveness.
Yes, your future teacher makes mistakes.
It's intensely uncomfortable and very disarming to have your neighbor (literal, remember?) look you in the eye and tell you the things you know, and then offer God's grace to you through a gesture. A hug. A prayer. A kiss on the cheek (typical greeting here). A hand on the shoulder to tell you that, over 5000 miles from home, you're not alone and you are welcome at the family table.
And then, like our brothers and sisters before us, with everyone who has found themselves unexpectedly invited to the banquet, we remember that the bodies dressed in fancy clothes are part of one Body. So we break bread. We remember that the blood running through our veins is Grace. So we pass the goblet of wine.
And this is where things get really Pentecostal...
*Yes, wine. Grape juice is expensive, and Argentine Christians don't have the same qualms about communion wine as their American cousins. Plus, the wine here is plentiful...and really good.
Yes, confess.
Wander around the dining room asking everyone one by one if I've done (or haven't done) anything to offend them, admitting the things I've done to hurt and devalue, offering forgiveness.
Yes, your future teacher makes mistakes.
It's intensely uncomfortable and very disarming to have your neighbor (literal, remember?) look you in the eye and tell you the things you know, and then offer God's grace to you through a gesture. A hug. A prayer. A kiss on the cheek (typical greeting here). A hand on the shoulder to tell you that, over 5000 miles from home, you're not alone and you are welcome at the family table.
And then, like our brothers and sisters before us, with everyone who has found themselves unexpectedly invited to the banquet, we remember that the bodies dressed in fancy clothes are part of one Body. So we break bread. We remember that the blood running through our veins is Grace. So we pass the goblet of wine.
And this is where things get really Pentecostal...
*Yes, wine. Grape juice is expensive, and Argentine Christians don't have the same qualms about communion wine as their American cousins. Plus, the wine here is plentiful...and really good.
No comments:
Post a Comment