'Table Dwelling' - A Sacred Experience
Several months ago, as I began to make preparations for my Aunts and Uncle who were coming in from Ohio, I started the hunt for a place that would reflect the hospitality I wanted to extend and the comfort I wanted them to enjoy. In the back of my mind I kept thinking that the accommodations that were finally chosen would have to be able to offer us the ability to gather around the table for a leisurely breakfast and the ability to linger as long as we would like. What? I know right, of all the things I should be considering this was my top priority. At the time I could not even begin to explain why that would matter but over the course of the weekend it was slowly revealed to me.
I guess I would define my immediate family, extended family and the family I married into as table dwellers. Let me explain. There was never a comfortable chair or couch that would win out over a wooden chair pulled up to the table. I suspect the attraction was the ability to be assimilated into the group without ever missing a beat – everybody just squeezed in and added a chair. No one was ever denied a place and always found acceptance; hospitality was extended with a hot cup of coffee, tea or cold glass of milk; and there was always a sweet treat that accompanied the beverage and seemed to confirm that your presence was appreciated and seen as gift.
From an early age I discovered the importance of table attendance. If there was a serious matter to be discussed, news to be shared good or bad my mom and dad would convene a meeting of the round table, except ours was square and usually not as grand as King Arthur’s – but, trust me, wielded just as much importance.
Before meals there was always prayer, then lively conversation and what I like to think of as the linger law. No one was excused; we lingered. In that time there were lessons learned, stories told, support provided, laughter shared and gratitude extended for what we received and for my mom, who prepared the meal.
The table was witness to life’s transitions, losses and milestones. I am reminded of the seat that was empty for years as my brother served during the Vietnam War and the seat that was left permanently vacant after my dad’s unexpected death. Those seats would eventually be filled by spouses, grandchildren and friends who would find their way into our lives and to our table.
All these moments of grace broke through once again as we all sat around the table at the Harvest Moon B&B enjoying our coffee and a hearty homemade breakfast. Stories were shared, updates about family were given and bouts of laughter burst forth. The moment of clarity arrived when my Aunt Rita announced that this is what she missed the most about my mom – time at the kitchen table sipping coffee and sharing their lives.
As I listened to my aunt, I finally knew why gathering around the table was my priority as I prepared for their visit. For me, table dwelling is my most natural inclination; it is quite ordinary and extraordinary at the same time. All my life it has been my teacher, a place of celebration, mourning, sharing, revelation, acceptance and true communion. It has been a meeting place with God.
The famous Russian Icon of The Trinity by Andrei Reblev, which I became reacquainted with over the last few weeks, speaks to the sacred experience of table dwelling. The Father, the Son, and Holy Spirit invite us to the table. We are the guests they wait to welcome. Our longing for communion with one another and our God is quenched if we allow ourselves to be inspired by the perfect relationship of the Three. When we are willing to enter the mystery, we find that we never sit at the table alone. We are always accompanied on the journey, continually being fed and strengthened by what is offered.
As we immerse ourselves in this Christmas season and our loved ones gather around our tables, pay attention to the visible so that you may catch glimpses of the divine mystery that is being revealed to us in our very midst.
