I think this lesson is a bit of a simple one that most are actually aware of already. For me though, knowing was different than seeing it in action. Of course, given the title, the lesson I’m speaking to the importance of sharing a meal with someone.
The other day I was getting to know some new people. I’ve recently moved to Colorado and all my friends were back in Tennessee or Illinois, so I figured it would be good to get some experiences with new people. Thus far, we had some friendly interactions and kind of started getting to know each other, but this night was different. We were all having fun together, swapping stories, telling jokes, and getting more comfortable with each other.
One of the guys decided he was hungry and he wanted to order some pizza. Kindly enough, he ordered two pizzas so everyone could have some. Granted, he was influenced to do so by the two pregnant women in the group, but it was a kind gesture regardless of reasoning.
When it came to it and the pizza was delivered, at first everyone was reluctant to get a slice or two, trying to be courteous and what not, but everyone eventually wound up with pizza in their hands. All except me that is.
See I’ve been trying to cut some weight and lose some belly jelly since around November 2014, and by all measures, I’ve been doing really well with that. I didn’t want to blow my clean streak and cheat on my non-cheat day.
After about five minutes of new friends eating, I realized something. I was intentionally putting myself outside the kind of micro-community that was forming here. Because of my want to not eat a simple little slice of pizza, I gave up that moment of bonding that comes by a group accepting someone else’s kindness. A group simply receiving without the stipulation of debt or having to give something back has a kind of uniting factor to it that certainly promotes community and better friendship. And I missed that opportunity, standing in awkward silence as everyone but me ate. It sort of ostracized me from the others and made everyone feel uncomfortable to boot.
As I prepare to go on the World Race in September, I feel like I’ve learned a valuable lesson that I’ll hopefully be able to apply later. Sharing a simple meal, even if you don’t necessarily want it, isn’t so much about the food you’re eating, but about the people you’re eating it with. Going into new cultures with people I’ll barely be able to communicate with through spoken language, knowing how to spot and properly respond to friendly gestures will help all different kinds of ministry, but perhaps more importantly, it will help show those who are not of the faith that Christians are a special breed. It’ll show that there’s just something different about we of the faith. Even by the way these Christ-followers eat, they put this importance on a simple meal. To me, that’s the kind of discipleship that’s going to transcend language and culture, and that’s the kind of discipleship Christ would have us utilize.
