At one of the first family meals after we were married I called out "could someone toss me a bun?" and of course they did, literally (I don't think Patty realized I was expecting that to happen in her family--she thought I was being metaphorical for pass).
But isn't that the beauty of family meals, the freedom to pass the food down the table (or toss it as appropriate), the laughter and joking, the comfort of being welcomed.
TOday is Worldwide Communion Sunday. Today we sit around a giant table with our family. Today we break bread, metaphorically at least, with our brothers and sisters of all colours, denominations, sexual orientations, and places. Is this family table a place of ease and comfort? Or is it a place of stilted phrases and tension? MAy it be the former.
Oh and could someone please toss me the bread?