Today was the Day I had been Waiting for

Today was the day I had been waiting for. 

My first introduction to the Feast at the beginning of the summer, I had been… warned… about what being at the Feast could entail. Each Saturday, I would show up midday, float around, worship, eat, leave. It was easy going. I liked the people I was getting to know but I was always on edge… waiting for the chaos that I was warned about. 

Today was the day I had been waiting for.

I got to the Feast a couple minutes after 12pm, put my bag down, and poked my head in the kitchen to see what we were making for dinner. It was very quiet. Not a lot of people were there and Clarence supposed that we wouldn’t have a lot of people at dinner. I shrugged and said that we would be happy with those who did show up. A couple of hours passed with easy conversation, admiring a new Bible, and trying to plan a sermon. Sandwiches were dropped off. People were milling about but then the first punch was thrown. The Bible was left open on the table.

Today was the day I had been waiting for.

The worry I felt watching two of our community members fighting. The panic that seared through me when I saw the blood. The trepidation as I stood in the distance watching efforts to de-escalate. Despite my uneasiness, I soon found myself sitting on the curb shoulder to shoulder with angry voices, cursing words, and threats of more violence. What were we fighting about? Why did it matter? Could we handle it without having to call for backup? What were the risks of every next move? As the main fire cooled and we started moving inside to start worship, embers of tension threatened to spark again. I was in between the two main instigators and looked into their eyes and just said “Let’s not…”

Today was the day I had been waiting for.

In the hours before worship, instead of preparing, we were deflecting punches. The sermon had not been written. I looked down at the Bible left laying on the table. Luke 6:27-29 looked back up at me. “But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. I smiled. I called Randy over and pointed to the Scripture that had been sitting on the table while we had been sitting outside.

Today was the day I had been waiting for.

Worship was starting soon. I went into the kitchen to grab someone a cup of ice water. When I came back out, all the tables were full. When did everyone get there?! Every table suddenly had all my new friends there… The music started and underneath the guitar strumming was the constant humming of murmurs and whispers. The sermon wasn’t written but it didn’t need to be. Everyone’s thoughts and emotions from the day were pouring out. Amen! Hallelujah! Yes! We asked questions and got answers in real time. We were inspired. We prayed over each other. We all watched with apprehensiveness as the two fighters slowly sat beside each other.

Today was the day I had been waiting for.

I got out of my chair to lead Communion. I didn’t think. I let my heart lead me. I looked out across the room and made eye contact with the people who had welcomed me into their tight-knit family and community. At the beginning of the day, we were fighting. We were anxious. We let our fears dictate how we treated each other. Today was hot and messy and ugly. And it was beautiful. In our humanity, we saw our Divinity. I broke the Bread and raised the Cup and called everyone forward to the Feast. Friends and community members from many different backgrounds came and there, at the end of the line, were our two instigators… arms slung around each other… smiles on their faces. In the beauty of that moment, I looked at them and we laughed. They took their pieces and dipped their Bread into the Cup at the same time, together, united by forgiveness, mercy, and love.

Today was the day I had been waiting for.