- Feb 5, 2002
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LITURGICAL LIVING: SUMMER
“I have to go!” I exclaimed to my neighborhood friends at the sound of a bell piercing through the hot summer air.
In haste, I pivoted and ran toward home as quickly as my legs could carry me. The bell meant one thing: dinner time. I would rinse off my bare feet in the spigot and push my way through the back door into the kitchen. Instantly, my eye would be drawn to the set table, adorned with flickering candles dancing to the soft, classical music playing. It was at this simple table where most of the learning of my childhood took place.
Childhood memories of dinnertime differ from person to person, yet one commonality remains: There is a comfort to be found in the constancy of the family meal. Comfort and self-assuredness because of the recognition, though maybe subconscious, that we will be fed — yes, physically, but also spiritually and emotionally — as we take our seat at the table.
The table is the altar at which we sacrifice the tyranny of the urgent for the better “good” of spending time together. As we sit side by side, we permit our lives to intersect, unifying our days and taking an interest in one another. We unpack and process the day’s happenings without distraction, both giving and receiving encouragement. It is the place of the sounding board and affirmation or direction, a safe refuge and harbor.
Continued below.
www.ncregister.com
“I have to go!” I exclaimed to my neighborhood friends at the sound of a bell piercing through the hot summer air.
In haste, I pivoted and ran toward home as quickly as my legs could carry me. The bell meant one thing: dinner time. I would rinse off my bare feet in the spigot and push my way through the back door into the kitchen. Instantly, my eye would be drawn to the set table, adorned with flickering candles dancing to the soft, classical music playing. It was at this simple table where most of the learning of my childhood took place.
Childhood memories of dinnertime differ from person to person, yet one commonality remains: There is a comfort to be found in the constancy of the family meal. Comfort and self-assuredness because of the recognition, though maybe subconscious, that we will be fed — yes, physically, but also spiritually and emotionally — as we take our seat at the table.
The table is the altar at which we sacrifice the tyranny of the urgent for the better “good” of spending time together. As we sit side by side, we permit our lives to intersect, unifying our days and taking an interest in one another. We unpack and process the day’s happenings without distraction, both giving and receiving encouragement. It is the place of the sounding board and affirmation or direction, a safe refuge and harbor.
Continued below.
Reclaiming a Place at the Table: The Ordinary Beauty of Sharing a Meal
LITURGICAL LIVING: SUMMER
