Luke 10:38-42
Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, ‘Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.’ But the Lord answered her, ‘Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.’
There is a table with three leaves that sits in the kitchen at my parent’s home. Most of the time the three leaves live in the hall closet, but when company comes, we bring them out and the table expands to welcome relatives and friends. At Thanksgiving it was always hard to guess who would be sitting around that table. Everyone in the community who didn’t have somewhere else to be was invited. Former pastors still drop by unannounced and Mother just adds another plate to the table so they can share the meal. There is magic about this table. At this table four hot vegetables, a big bowl of potatoes, two plates of meat, four salads, a bowl of pickled beets, a cake and two pies can disappear in no time.
This is the same table where informal family meetings happen daily to discuss the farming that needs to be done, the cattle to be moved to another pasture, the cost of seed corn and fertilizer, and whether to contract this summer to sell the beans at a better price. This is the table where I answered to questions about my grade card and reported on whether my chores were done. It is the place where my father wrote in his journal, leaving an account of life on the farm.
At home I learned how important a table can be. The table in my parents’ kitchen where we are nourished is also the table that orders our life… reminds me of communion at church. It is a blessed place. This is a table that is always open. This is a table that says “welcome home.”
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2 comments:
I grew up as a preacher's kid and experienced a deep sense of abandonment, betrayal and loss from the church when they asked for my dad's resignation. It was so much more than him losing his job - it was me losing my faith community. It took a long time to move past that. And still - if I imagine "going home" I am not ready to go back to those churches I grew up in.
However, when this all happened, I left the Christian faith entirely. For 10 years I was "angrily agnostic" but actively searching for a way to connect with God. It has been a healing journey of refinding my faith home - through congregations that I have CHOSEN for myself. These congregations of my adult-hood are the ones that have shaped a meaningful and helpful faith home and to them I will return time and again.
Thanks, Linda for your journey and your blog!
Hi, Molly. Thanks for posting your comment. It is hard to read of your hurtful experience with church. I wish such things didn't happen, but know that you are not alone. Your experience is not all that unusual. The church has caused a good deal of pain throughout our history. And it seems like this pain is harder to recover from than other pain. Betrayal at the hands of the people we have trusted with our most vulnerable selves has a devastating effect.
When you become an "author" on this site, I hope you'll publish this comment on the face of the blog where others can more easily read it -- some readers, no doubt, have stories that would resonate with yours.
Blessings!
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