blinded by sadness, slowness of heart,
yet Christ walks with us ever awaiting our invitation:
stay, do not part.
---Susan Palo Cherwien, 1996
This lovely modern hymn, by contemporary poet Susan Palo
Cherwien, is a meditation on the story usually called ‘The Road to Emmaus’. I
kind of think it should be called ‘The House at the End of the Road to Emmaus’.
Because friends, all the real fabulous-ness, all the wonder, all the eye-opening
connection happened at the kitchen table in a little house at 223 Emmaus Way
right about supper time. The travelers walked with the mysterious stranger all
day, discussing current events and even Bible knowledge; but it wasn’t until
pulling up chairs around a table laden with a thrown-together,
just-got-home-from-vacation, raid-the-fridge-for-leftovers, broke-down feast
that bridges began to be built between hearts.
Now, some of you who follow me on Instagram or Facebook know
that I kinda like food (ok, I love it), and I especially love being able to
share something lovely with other folks. I have two hashtags that I commonly
use when posting about food: #cometothetable and #alwaysroomforonemore. These
spell out my personal kitchen ethos. Good, good things happen around the table,
when we drop our guard to pick up forks and mugs. Spending unhurried time
together sharing a common meal lends itself to sharing our inner selves.
Sometimes, just sometimes, our private fears and hopes and dreams become common
bonds. And around this kind of table, friends, there is always room for one
more. The welcome is warm, and the provision is plenty.
Around the table in the house at the end of the road to
Emmaus, lingering over a last mug of chai and the heel of a loaf, their eyes
were opened, and the travelers recognized Jesus.
Come to the table. Linger. With your eyes and heart open,
you never know who you may see.
