The Table Gets Longer

In a small church in Portland, the congregation had split over whether to welcome a nearby recovery community to their weekly potluck. The arguments grew sharp. Emails were sent that people wished they could unsend. A deacon resigned. For months, the fellowship hall sat half-empty on Wednesday nights.

Then a young woman from the recovery house showed up one Sunday carrying a casserole dish. She had heard about the conflict. "I don't know much about church fights," she said, "but I know about making amends. Where I come from, you don't wait until you feel ready to forgive. You set the table and trust that grace shows up somewhere between the salad and dessert."

Paul writes to the Colossians, "Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you." Notice he doesn't say forgive after you've sorted out who was right. He says bear with each other — stay in proximity, stay in relationship, even when it's uncomfortable.

Rachel Held Evans once wrote that the church is not a building where perfect people gather but a table where hungry people sit. Forgiveness in the way of Jesus isn't an abstract transaction. It is the radical, countercultural act of pulling up another chair when everything in you wants to lock the door.