“Oh taste and see that the Lord is good. Blessed are those who shelter in him.” Psalm 34.8

We calibrate our evening news dosage with trips to the Food Network “The Best Thing I Ever Ate.” Yesterday, on NBC, there were Lester’s rending reports of health and economic impact in people’s lives. On TFN, there were a couple of Best Thing nominations of a pork chop sandwich and smoked potatoes with a coffee laced sauce on them. Those were not contenders for me, though I’ve seen some desserts, BBQ, and such on the show that are.

A few years back, there was a newspaper interview with Chef Charlie Gagne, long time Vestavia Hills UMC Director of Food Service. Wrapping up, after discussion of various culinary delights, Charlie was asked what he would want for his last meal. Answer: “Holy Communion.”

Joining most Christians over the centuries, we Methodists have grown increasingly devoted to the Sacrament of The Lord’s Supper, Holy Communion, AKA The Eucharist, Mass.

Jesus apparently spent a lot of time at tables sharing, enjoying food in the name of God’s love. He wonderfully, maddenly included people who we might not include and who might not be so crazy about eating with us either. It’s the thrilling, offensive “ALL are welcome” invitation of God’s love.

Wow, have Christians majored in minors through time on exactly what happens at the Lord’s table, how it’s done, who can and can’t partake! In seminary, we wrote papers and took exams about theological constructs to explain the unexplainable of how the God we know in Jesus shows up in the Sacrament.

Transubstantiation, Consubstantiation, Real Presence, Symbolic, and such debates at times could fire up people to excommunicate one another, at least take each other off their Christmas card list.

I am being a bit playful about this. But, what we Methodists call “This Holy Mystery” has profound impact for lives worth living for and dying for.

Of late, the Pandemic has caused serious discussion about Holy Communion celebrated online. Minister is in one place with bread and people in another place. Yes or No. Holy Communion is a profoundly physical, hands on matter. It expresses a God who gets very physical, hands on with us in Jesus.

Can this work through cyberspace? The answer for most is yes. But, and I know I am overusing the word...it is a profound, not flip, yes.

(BTW: Considering pandemic changed practices, the little individual communion glasses many of us grew up with came about related to the Great Flu Pandemic of 1918, efforts to prevent contagion.)

The classic definition of a sacrament is a visible sign of invisible grace (AKA God’s presence and love). It is an amazing inseparable dance between mysterious holy and everyday ordinary.

Perhaps more, at least this: when food is shared in thanksgiving and love, it is a holy communion. The God we know in Jesus is close, not so much explained, as experienced in loving, grateful meals together.

Some years back, when I served Canterbury UMC, we noticed how slammed, busy many of the people in the church were. Relentless, high performance expectation for parents, kids, professionals, and people in general was in the air we breathed. Foregone family mealtime was a victim and victimizer. For a season, one of our themes was “Take Back The Table”.

During this stay home, working at home season – with those out there on the precarious line of essential services held in the light of highest prayer – many of us have the gift of taking back the table. Dianne has cracked the cornbread code with grandmothers in the Communion of Saints cheering. Our oldest son has become quite the baker. Note the bread in the picture.

Someone has said that guilt is a self-centered non-Christian act. The gift of gratitude is what actually creates a different way of living.

The food challenge is staggering. We do take-outs several times a week with beloved locally owned businesses. Our neighborhood has taken a slew of meals to hospital heroes. We are leaning into our gifts for the Central Alabama Community Food Bank and others.

Enough? Of course not! But progress if not perfection: thank God that joyful gratitude gets better out of us than sulky guilt.

It would be an endless list of contenders for my best thing I ever ate roll. There is a mosaic of dishes and faces galore from churches we have served and friends through the decades. Chef Charlie Gagne’s chocolate bread pudding with warm raspberry sauce is surely high on it.

It has dawned on me that I am still eating the best food I ever ate daily served by and shared with my wife on earth...in heartful, tasteful memory of the grandmothers in heaven.