The church where I am serving this summer is one primarily composed of several large families. Like other rural churches, the saying goes, “Make sure you don’t talk bad about one person to another as they are likely to be related!” Indeed I’ve had a time sorting through the tangled web of familial relationships, learning how one person is related to another. Family is important in this community. Several of the large families have their own tradition of a Sunday meal in which the whole group (sometimes as many as 30-40 people) gathers to eat after church.

It is when I join the family at such a meal that I am surprised to discover that individuals are related. It feels like Thanksgiving. Dishes clutter the countertops, barely squeezing in. Numerous salads, freshly prepared vegetables plucked from the garden, fried chicken, roasts, rolls, and biscuits are all present. The dessert table is crowded with homemade cakes and a plethora of other sweet concoctions. The entire house buzzes with bustling activity. There is chattering and laughter, the occasional slam of the screen door as someone else enters, the arranging of chairs to make room, scraping of dishes, and lively conversation. Even after just one of these gatherings it was hard for me to imagine families doing this every Sunday.

I once remarked to my hostess how much I enjoyed being included in the gathering, as well as how amazed I was that such a big family gathered so often. She replied, “It’s important for us to get together. We take the time to catch up with one another, to know what is going on in each other’s lives. We have to stick together. The children and grandchildren just get used to it. They really get to know each other and are best friends. The sisters are best friends, they do everything together.” Through the Sunday gathering the family takes time to regroup, talk about the upcoming week, and find ways to connect with each other through other activities. Oftentimes the food prepared is that which many of the family members gathered from the garden, canned, froze, or prepared. Hours of the summertime were devoted to the family gathering together in the basement and canning anything from green beans to tomatoes. However, when it was time for the meal all were invited. The hostess gave me an open invitation, and encouraged me to come back whenever I could. In fact, several Sundays she would stop me after church to see if I had lunch plans and let me know I could come by. There was always more than enough food, plenty of company, and an invitation to join in the harvest.

This seemingly mundane Sunday tradition, tucked in the context of rural North Carolina struck me as a poignant example of how the church should seek to be a gathered community of intentional fellowship. The church community also is formed through the deliberate participation in a life of giving and receiving such as found in the act of communion. The United Methodist Book of Worship offers a service of Word and Table. It indicates several important elements: invitation, confession and pardon, peace, offering, the great thanksgiving, the Lord’s Prayer, breaking of the bread, giving of the bread and cup, and the sending forth.

Like any meal, there must be an invitation. This is not merely an invitation to be fed physically, but rather to be spiritually formed through the participation of the community. The church must make a conscious effort to be invitational, otherwise the squeaky screen door will remain silent and shut, and the dining table will remain empty. Furthermore, the community must be one in which, like a close-knit family, people can confess, share, and offer a place of forgiveness. In such an atmosphere peace can be offered to one another. This is not an empty, placating peace, but rather a deep abiding in the peace that comes from a reconciling God. And like the country counter where dozens of unique dishes make the journey from the labored fields to the table, the bounty which God has given is offered back in thanksgiving. Thanksgiving, prayer, and the breaking of bread follow, recognizing the ultimate source from which all blessings flow. Following the meal the gathered family does not simply sit, waiting for the meal of the following Sunday; but rather goes forth into the world, nourished by a time of fellowship and with an invitational spirit. The cycle begins again. The church receives and gives, it becomes a family intentional about gathering each week to break bread with one another. There is always enough, even for the guest, the stranger, the one who passes the swinging door.