The last day of our Lenten practice was a good transition. We helped serve a meal with others from our church at Triune Mercy Center, a non-denominational mission church that ministers to/with the homeless. We met at the church to prep the food (and talk and hang out), then we headed to Triune to serve.
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| Getting plates ready to serve |
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| The dining room at Triune |
We prepared trays of plates in the kitchen, and (and here's the great part) actually served people at their tables. This was no buffet line or take-out. The homeless and hungry of Greenville are able to sit down and be served.
It was appropriate, then, that many of the people from our church serving were deacons. Diakonos means "one who serves at table." They were living into their title in a very literal way.
After we finished serving, we set up Triune's sanctuary for the multi-church Easter sunrise service the following morning. And as we left, I thought, "Well...we're finished."
But not quite...
The next morning, as I stood outside the sanctuary after the sunrise service and spoke to those who had worshipped, I found myself in a conversation with Eric, who was homeless and had come to the service. There were about 30 people who were going to eat breakfast at Tommy's Country Ham House next door, and I couldn't stop myself from inviting him to eat with us.
I went and sat down, and even then was thinking, "Why did I do this? I just want to have a nice breakfast with my church people, with Suzy and the baby. I just want to have a normal conversation. I'm finished with this Lenten thing...so why did I invite him over?"
I guess I wasn't finished after all. After forty days of practice and discipline, I don't know if I can just "turn it off."
So I guess these forty days served their purpose. Culinary care has become ingrained in my life and lifestyle. It looks like I will never really be finished.
Or, to put it another way, I will always be un-finished.
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