Simple miracles

By Nicholas Tangen

I’ve often joked that my large appetite is my greatest intercultural and community engagement tool. It’s not often that I meet a food I’m unwilling to try and, if it’s really tasty, I’ll go back for seconds or thirds. Tamales, pozole, injera, any kind of dumpling, hotdish of all kinds – if you want to make sure the food gets eaten, I’m your guy.

So many of the incredible experiences I’ve had in neighborhoods over the years have been around the table. Folks bring food they’ve made themselves, maybe recipes that have been handed down for generations. We reflect on memories of food and fellowship from our past and talk with one another about what these foods mean to us. And we open ourselves up, just a bit, in the vulnerability of nourishing our bodies together.

I’d argue that table fellowship is one of those spiritual disciplines we often take for granted. We live in a culture that often wants food to be fast and eaten on the go. Family dinners are less common than they were a generation ago, and meals shared with folks outside of our immediate family are even less so. But there’s a reason that our worship is centered around the table – something miraculous happens when people share a meal together.

 

IN THE FAITH Practices & Neighboring Practices learning community, our congregations have been hosting listening events in their communities, inviting neighbors and congregation members to get to know one another better – listening deeply, without agenda or pretense. Almost all these listening events have included food of one kind or another, and the connections that have been made through these simple invitations have been incredible.

Two weeks ago, I joined the folks at Salem Evangelical Lutheran Church in North Minneapolis for their weekly community meal. Through the uprisings, these meals were largely packed to go, with neighbors stopping in to grab a meal or two and carrying on with their day. But this week, Salem volunteers, and a great batch of volunteers from Trinity Lutheran Church in Long Lake, set up tables and tents in the parking lot and invited neighbors to eat together.

“Table fellowship is one of those spiritual disciplines I think we often take for granted.”

Burgers, hotdogs, watermelon, chili, and a variety of salad – I came ready to eat. And Salem’s neighbors did too, with more than two dozen folks sticking around for dinner. As I stood in line, I watched as folks gathered at tables, introduced themselves, and began to have conversation as they ate. And, as I took in the scene, something incredible started to happen.

You could literally see this gathering of individuals transform into a community. As folks shared stories, listened deeply, and laughed together their posture changed – they began to sit up more, they leaned in eagerly as someone shared, and there seemed to be a lightness and a brightness present across the tables. It was beautiful, like watching flowers open their petals after a refreshing rain.

 

I SAT AT A TABLE with two women and talked about the neighborhood, our favorite BBQ essentials, and the churches we grew up in. Rose, a woman who lives near Salem, stayed for nearly the entire time of the event, and she and I spoke for well over an hour. She told me how she had lived in her house for more than 50 years, and that she loved living next to her neighbors, many of whom have lived in the neighborhood as long as she has. We talked about fishing and hunting, and how our families both love the outdoors. And she talked excitedly about how she loves taking the grandkids fishing at the lakes in Minneapolis.

We also talked about COVID and the grief of isolation. She told me about losing her husband far too soon, and how she was grieving the death of her eldest son who passed three years ago. I asked her to tell me about them, and she lit up as she remembered them and shared stories about their lives together. When dinner was done, and our popsicles eaten, we prayed together, and she headed back to the home she so dearly loves.

“You could literally see this gathering of individuals transform into a community.”

This simple encounter with a neighbor in North Minneapolis reminded me how powerful the practice of table fellowship can be, and how much it means for people to see one another and to be seen by one another – to share their stories and to hear the stories of others. Sometimes churches can complicate their community engagement work, over-programming and focusing on service, rather than simply holding space for connection and community and watching the Holy Spirit do her thing.

Recently, I’ve been describing the work of Faith Practices & Neighboring Practices as reminding congregations and their members that as followers of Jesus we are called first to those small simple practices of our faith – prayer, scripture, worship, hospitality, and love of neighbor. Table fellowship is one such practice.

There are not many community engagement practices simpler than bringing folks together for a meal, but truly the impact can be immense. Imagine what might happen in our neighborhoods if our churches, just for a little bit, set down the need to serve our neighbors, and leaned into the invitation to be with our neighbors (… maybe with a little food)? I’m betting we might encounter something simply miraculous.