The Power of the Kitchen Table

Yesterday I had an NPR moment in the driveway. If you listen to NPR you'll know what I'm talking about. You get home but the story that you're listening to is so engrossing that you sit in the driveway until it's over. I've done it a lot. I've also been known to drive around the neighborhood until the story is done.

Last night the story that delayed me was one of the "This I Believe" essays. Go. Listen to it, or read it. I'll wait here until you get back.

I think the concept is fascinating. How could something like that be adapted for a small house? People without a lot of money to spare? A community that is fractured by self-hatred, fear and/or apathy?

When I was a pastor/missionary/spiritual director one of the most powerful "programs" that I ever facilitated was called Servant Leadership. It came from a model curriculum from Church of the Savior in Washington, DC. I took several groups to this church and what they embody is inspiring. 

The Servant Leadership program is a year-long study that combines reading, writing and discussion with a weekly meal, shared around a community table. The food is simple – soup, salad, bread and dessert. The bread is never sliced. It is torn from the loaf around the table and passed. The symbolism is dramatic.

We learned a lot from the readings. Most of us opened up in the discussions. But, the third time I led a year-long group through the curriculum, I realized that the most important aspect of the study was sharing a meal. You can emotionally hold people at arm's length during a conversation if that's what you desire to do. But I'm convinced that you can't share 52 meals with someone and not have at least some of your walls come crashing down.

As Jim Haynes said so perfectly in his essay:

"I have long believed that it is unnecessary to understand others, individuals or nationalities; one must, at the very least, simply tolerate others. Tolerance can lead to respect and, finally, to love. No one can ever really understand anyone else, but you can love them or at least accept them."

So, what could this look like in Findlay, Ohio? Anybody else intrigued?