When I was in seminary, a Korean classmate named Paul Huh and I had the opportunity to travel to Seoul and bring greetings to several large Presbyterian churches there. Soon after we arrived, I had dinner at Paul’s home. I remember sitting cross-legged on the floor at the low table that was laden with lots of ceramic bowls brimming over with Korean specialties, and being surrounded by a dozen of Paul’s relatives. The combination of being jet-lagged and relatively inexperienced with chopsticks meant that many of my efforts to retrieve food from the bowls ended unsuccessfully – dropped dumplings, slopped noodles, shrimp and vegetables bouncing everywhere. In an effort to help me, those near me kept sliding the bowls closer to where I was sitting, until before long, most of the entrees were all clustered around my end of the table!
As I remember that scene from twenty-five years ago, I am struck by a fundamental distinction between communal Asian meals and our more individualistic American-style dining. In this country we go to restaurants as a group and typically receive individual entrees. One plate per person set neatly on individual place mats. You may glance at what your neighbor is having, but it is frowned upon to reach across and spear something off their plate without asking. Even though everyone is eating together, the food that is consumed is, in effect, eaten alone.
Imagine if an Asian understanding of communal meals could be extended into our common life. Put it this way: You can picture sitting at a table in which the array of entrees before you are intended equally for everyone’s enjoyment. Could this same pattern hold true for other things in life? Don’t we believe that all people have an equal right to clean air – to safe water – to enjoy public parks and green spaces? That’s not hard to accept. We each take in breaths of air or sips of water or walk among trees in our city, and we do not begrudge those same rights for others. In fact, we would be concerned if others were arbitrarily being refused air, water, or access to public parks.
But what else can be added to this communal model? Don’t we hope that every child in our city receives a good education? Don’t we wish for every person to have access to doctors and medicine that will keep them healthy? Don’t we desire for everyone to feel safe, to feel like they can contribute their work and gifts for the betterment of all? It’s sad that as soon as topics like education, health care, and employment opportunities are raised, we begin to qualify our answers or point out the reasons why people don’t receive these things equally. We make excuses, some valid – others less so, and in the end we shrug our shoulders as if that is simply the way things are.
Remember that Jesus’ very first sermon opened with words from the prophet Isaiah, in which Jesus said, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.” We are the poor. We are the ones Jesus was talking to and talking about. And ultimately much of what he proclaimed can be captured in the image of a table around which all are welcome, all are fed, all are equally valued as children of God. So picture an Asian banquet or perhaps a communion table in church. Picture what things you would set on that table for all to enjoy. And pray that what you picture may truly come about. In that moment, a bit of the realm of God will truly be present in your midst. And that is good news!