Monthly Archive for February, 2009

I’ve been attending (sometimes enduring) church meetings for over 40 years.  From the times when Mom dragged me, to the times when I’ve loved them, to the times when I drag myself.  Having experienced just about every type of church meeting invented, there’s one I consistently, hands down like the best… the pot luck dinner.

A pot luck dinner is an event where each person brings a dish – anything they want – and everybody eats a meal from whatever shows up.  It’s pretty much that simple.

If you go to enough pot luck dinners, you see a lot of interesting things.  I remember Jeanette, who always brought Caesar Salad… the best I’ve ever had.  There was Linda, known for a special chocolate pie; and Tony, who loved it and waited with anticipation to see if Linda and her pie would be there.  People prepare elaborate main dishes all day, or make a last minute stop at the store for paper cups or bottles of soda.  Somebody might just bring hot sauce.

Nonetheless, I’ve never been to a bad pot luck dinner.  You get to try people’s unique recipes. These are often influenced by factors such as who their parents and grandparents were, or where they grew up.  My wife, for example, puts apples in her potato salad.  She’s from the apple country of Washington state.  And I’ve never left a pot luck dinner hungry.

I wonder if the Christian community could be like a pot luck dinner.  I’m not talking about food, but about people coming together to share whatever they have… a listening ear, encouraging words, a smile; or difficulties and hardships.  Some people are gifted in unique ways to lift up others, (like Jeanette’s gift for Caesar Salad.)  Others have needs and yearn desperately for something to lift them up, (like Tony peering out the window hoping his favorite dessert would arrive.)

We’ve all been influenced by our backgrounds, and we’re all “coming from” different places.  These factors affect what we bring to the party and make our interaction glorious.  There’s always someone who adds spice – hot sauce – to the group.  And even the smallest contributions are important… ever been to a pot luck where nobody brought paper cups?  Such get-togethers are never dull or boring, by the way, because they’re never the same.  You get a different mix on your plate every time.

I want my life to be one big, continuous, relationship pot luck dinner.  I benefit tremendously when that happens, and hopefully I contribute as well.  Everyone involved rarely goes unfulfilled.  Pot lucks, with or without food.   They’re my favorite kind of meeting.

In the state where I live, a person can officiate a wedding without religious credentials.  As a holder of one of those other types of credentials, I conducted a wedding ceremony for two friends many years ago.  The bride and groom rented a church building in which the wedding took place, but neither were regular attendees there.  Likewise, most of the guests had never been inside that church building before.  So, seeing me on stage, people who didn’t know me assumed that I was the pastor of that particular church.  (Nothing could be further from the truth, by the way.  I am simply a typical business man.)

At the reception, someone shook my hand and said “That was a wonderful service, Reverend.”  I replied, “Thank you, and I’m not ‘Reverend’, I’m Steve.”  His response was “Oh no… I would never call a minister by his first name.  My parents raised me too well for that.”

That experience still saddens me.  I felt isolated from those with whom I wanted to relate and enjoy a good time.  I was sure that any words or deeds resembling salt and light – not that I think I’m overly prone to them – would have been viewed as what a Reverend is supposed to do, rather than a way of life for ordinary, everyday people.  It was as though the distinction of being a minister actually diluted the value of the ministry.

In history, the Monastic Movement of devout monks living in monasteries, etc., comes along about the same time as the Dark Ages.  I’ve heard some interpret that this way:  “It’s a good thing that there were monks and monasteries during those days, or spirituality might have been wiped out entirely.”  My take is a little different.  I say “No wonder the Dark Ages were dark… all the spiritual people locked themselves up in monasteries.”  Perhaps if a few sincere God-seekers had remained in the marketplace, things would have been different… or maybe I’m just a dreamer.