Breaking Bread
In Thanksgiving for Nancy, Lucy, and Margaret
Bread is broken
In an upper room, feet wet from washing
At table with a stranger met on the sad road from Jerusalem to Emmaus
Among Jews and Gentiles in a Centurion’s home
By the glimmering lake with five thousand friends
In a hall called Wilson
Bread is broken
French bread rich with butter
And chicken spaghetti, which shouldn’t work, but does
Tortilla chips stacked high on Taco Night
Bread firmly, lovingly embracing hot ham and cheese
Cornbread that settles on the tongue like honey
Topping off the grand champion meatloaf and mac and cheese
Lines out the door for dressing and turkey
Bread is broken
Through the torn and fragrant edges
Through mouthfuls of meatloaf
Sweet tea poured like wine
Children laugh
Friendships deepen
Families slow down and sit
Free from the wheel of activity
To talk and eat and love
Every time, every place, every meal
He is there, as he promised
It is said
Blessed are the feet that bring good news
Let it also be said here
Blessed are the hands that make good food
Feeding bodies
Feeding souls
Sharing hospitality in the form of scalloped potatoes and spaghetti casserole
Holy work, done with joy
And we are grateful
Chris Joiner, May 13, 2015
christopherjoiner 