Tastes of God’s kingdom at our church’s community meal
The people come, bringing something of themselves. Then they leave.
One day several years ago, a man named Steve walked into the community meal that our church hosts and said, “You know what this place is like? It is like the eighth day of creation.” He served himself a big plate of tamales and green chili, then coffee and a piece of cake. He stayed most of the afternoon. For a moment, I could see our dining room like he saw it. But then he picked up his backpack and left. He hasn’t returned in a long time.
Not long after, another person walked in and said, “This is where I come for a taste of the kingdom of God.” That person is gone now too.
Both people left me with lingering questions about this thing called the kingdom of God. What is it? Why is it both here and not here? Why does it come only in glimpses and tastes? Why do we give these ephemera that permanent-sounding name?
