When we stand around this table, Holy God,
that is what we call you… “The Host.”
It reminds us that we are here,
not because we deserve it,
not because we are part of an exclusive club,
not because we have the right answers or know a special handshake,
but because You sent us an invitation.
You called people whom we would never (ever!) choose.
beautiful people, ugly people, confused people, stylish people,
smelly people, conservative people, liberal people,
gay people, straight people, brown people, white people,
rich people, poor people, shallow people, annoying people,
angry people, scared people, sad people, lonely people…
You invited us all.
You get to do that
because You are “The Host.”
Now we are here.
We made it.
We came for all kinds of different reasons tonight.
out of obligation,
out of loneliness,
out of worry,
out of a sense of tradition,
out of hope.
James and John,
Mary and Martha,
Peter and Judas,
to sit down, tear off a piece of pita,
and talk about what really matters,
the same One who gathered that ragtag bunch together,
got us here too.
because if we knew that we had a last meal on this planet,
a Last Supper,
we would want to be with him:
laughing, crying, remembering, telling stories.
So, we are here—
mercifully squeezed around this table.
Bread of Life
soaked in a few drops of juice…
Cup of Salvation.
It is hardly a feast.
Unless, of course, you do what you did in that Upper Room again.
Send your Spirit upon us.
Take these gifts and make them your body.
Give us courage for the difficulties we face this day.
Give us wisdom in making decisions.
Give us grace in our relationships.
Heal us, forgive us, make us whole.