Poem For World Wide Communion 2019

THE SURPRISE AT THE TABLE
(Luke 17: 5-10)

Underneath your nails: the dry brown earth,
and on your sweat-streaked brow.
The work in the fields was hard today,
the soil resisting the plow.

Your muscles ache as you approach the house,
thinking of food, a drink for your thirst.
In your weary hunger you long to dine,
but a slave does not eat first.

And the slave expects no thanks or praise
for doing only what must be done.
The master is served before the slave:
the slave’s the unworthy one.

But what is this? . . . From the dining table
the aroma of fresh baked bread.
And is that not the master himself
bidding you take his seat at the head?

Can those be the master’s hands, like yours,
still showing the stain of soil?
Was that the master next to you in the fields?
His sweat joining yours in toil?

Behold him pouring, now giving you the cup:
a drink of his finest wine.
Hear him say: I do this of my love for you.
For all hungry ones, and for all time.

^{Copyright ©2019 by Andrew King}

Poem For World Wide Communion 2015

THE TABLE WITH NO EDGES

We will sit down where feet tire from the journey.
We will sit down where grief bends the back.

We will sit down under roofs wrecked by artillery.
We will sit down where cries sound from cracked walls.

We will sit down where heat beats like hammers.
We will sit down where flesh shivers in cold.

We will sit down where bread bakes on thin charcoal.
We will sit down where there is no grain in baked fields.

We will sit down with those who dwell in ashes.
We will sit down in shadow and in light.

We will sit down, making friends out of strangers.
We will sit down, our cup filled with new wine.

We will sit down and let love flow like language.
We will sit down where speech needs no words.

We will sit together at the table with no edges.
We will sit to share one loaf, in Christ’s name, in one world.

^{© Copyright 2015 by Andrew King}