A Common Meal and the Right Paw of Fellowship

Some ecclesias have regular “pot luck” meals, either after memorial meeting or at other get-togethers. At other times, they may encourage “basket lunches” or “sack lunches” — that is, with every individual or every family bringing his or their own.

Whenever reasonable, the sharing of a common meal — a pot luck — is a good idea, because it reminds us that we are, all together, one family in the Lord.

As the name “pot luck” suggests, you take your chances. After all, you are not there for the natural food but the spiritual fellowship.

This accords with Paul’s implied advice in 1 Corinthians 11:

“When you come together, it is not the Lord’s Supper you eat, for as you eat, each of you goes ahead without waiting for anybody else. One remains hungry, another gets drunk” (vv 20,21).

The implication is, of course, that keeping one’s food to oneself is not a good thing — for it may call attention to the variations of position and means among different members of the ecclesia.

The expression “pot luck” is an apt one. It recalls the old Cockney expression, “You pays your moneys and you takes your chances” — which in turn echoes “caveat emptor” (“let the buyer beware”). It may also have referred to various gambling activities. In this case, “pot luck” means you bring your own food, “sacrifice” it to the common good, and then “takes your chances” on what else is available.

This emphasizes an important aspect of ecclesial life altogether — much more than a common meal in the ecclesial hall. We all bring our resources, our talents, our time, and our very beings to the ecclesial “table”. There we share what we have for the wellbeing of others, and we rely on others for our sustenance and support also. Are we prepared to do this without complaining, or begrudging others, when they seem to get the better end of the deal? Are we, in fact, eager to see that others benefit — if possible — from what we bring… more perhaps than we seem to benefit by the exchange? If not, then we may have forgotten, not just 1 Corinthians 11, but 1 Corinthians 12 as well:

“There should be no division in the body, but its parts should have equal concern for each other” (1Co 12:25).

In an old series of Peanuts comic strips, Snoopy the precocious beagle endures a running feud with the (always unseen) big cat from next door. He appears in the strip, first one day and then another, with scratches and bruises from his encoun­ters with the great “beast”. Finally one day, Linus — the eight-year-old resident philosopher and theologian of Peanuts — approaches Snoopy, reminding him that it is “Be Kind to Animals Week”. “You animals expect to be treated a little bit nicer by people this week, right?” (Snoopy smiles and nods.) “Then,” Linus concludes, “Doesn’t this mean that you in turn are also going to make an extra effort to be kinder to that cat who lives next door?” (Now Snoopy turns suddenly glum, and mutters to himself, “I hate questions like that!”)

But the question gnaws at Snoopy. Later we see him sitting atop his doghouse, thinking: “I wonder what would happen if I tried to make friends with that stupid cat next door… I could show him my good will by extending my paw in friend­ship.” A bit more thought, then, “Okay, I’ll do it!”

Next we see Snoopy with his paw encased in a hockey goalie’s thick padded mitt. Approaching the still unseen cat, he mumbles to himself, “It’s the holiday season, cat! It’s time for you and me to forget our differences! It’s time to be friends. So here I am extending to you the right paw of fellowship.” The paw, thoroughly encased and protected, reaches out to the unseen cat, and returns a moment later, to his consternation, with the mitt entirely shredded!

The story continues the next day. Linus talks with Snoopy: “I hear you tried to make friends with the cat next door…” (A glowering Snoopy: “Stupid cat! I offered him the right paw of fellowship, and he almost tore it off!”) Linus reflects: “Maybe you shouldn’t have been wearing a hockey glove… maybe he thinks you don’t trust him.” (Snoopy astutely observes, “I trust him, but my hand doesn’t!”)

Still later, Linus offers further advice. (Linus’ advice has this in common with the Bible: the more we really listen to it and think about it, the tougher it is to follow.) “I think you showed the true spirit of Christmas,” he tells Snoopy. “But now I think you should try it again… I think you should offer the cat next door your right paw of fellowship, but without the hockey glove.” *

What can Snoopy do? There is only one thing to do. He “takes his chances!” With a completely bare paw, with fear and trembling but also some courage, he slowly stretches out his paw to his feline nemesis… and receives — to his amazement — not a worse mauling, but a candy cane!

As believers in Christ, we share common meals, sometimes as a simple “fam­ily”, sometimes as brothers and sisters keeping our Master’s “Passover” together. We do this, presumably, with no regard to our differences in financial or social standing, ethnicity, levels of education, or philosophies and ideas about all sorts of non-essential matters. As members of Christ’s ecclesia, we share — or should share — so many other things as well… our resources, our sorrows and joys, our hopes and fears… Our homes… Our beds and bed linens… Our books… Our clothes… Our lives…

Let us think what it might mean to “pay our moneys and take our chances” — to share all these things with the “gloves” off, without reservation. Perhaps as we do so, with common dishes of food and unprotected hands, we may come closer and closer to the true spirit of the One who shared all he had with us — even his body, his blood, and his life.