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Serving the Last Supper from a Church Kitchen
Anyone who has tried to serve
A fancy dinner in a cultural hall
Knows that something
Will probably go wrong
In the church kitchen where the ovens
Aren’t allowed to cook food,
Only keep it warm.
My favorite memories of serving meals from a church kitchen
Are never of the food.
Since when was church kitchen food
What people prayed to eat on their birthday?
But lasting friendships have been forged
Over the laughable lack of soap and knives
And bowls and forks and not enough room in the fridge.
I have seen miracles happen in church kitchens.
Scissors turned to knives,
Toothpicks to skewers,
Ziploc bags to piping bags,
And more than once
Shirts used like my grandmother’s apron
To dry hands and fruit.
Women make beauty from nothing all the time,
But the church kitchen has front row seats
To the magic.
Need beautiful cheesecakes for 250 young women?
Ask the church kitchen witches.
How about a pancake breakfast for the primary?
Ask the church kitchen witches.
I’ve even seen them do it
When the budget demands
They make it happen for basically free.
Can you imagine
If the Last Supper was served
From a church kitchen?
Jesus would have eaten
Rolls from the grocery store
And potluck soup.
Church kitchen witches
Are especially talented at
Making good out of good enough.
Jesus probably learned it from them.
Loaves and fishes? Good Enough.
Twelve misguided disciples? Good enough.
Son of God or just a prophet?
Whatever. Good enough.
Church building curfew is 10pm.
Floors vacuumed, lights out.
The Holy Ghost goes to bed at midnight
And Jesus probably knew it -
That’s why he asked Peter
To stay awake as they walked
To the garden.
Meanwhile,
The Church kitchen witches were just getting home
When they heard the news from Mary.
They made their way to Martha’s,
Bringing candles and spices,
Cloth and needles.
They all had heard what Jesus
Had said without saying.
The candles stayed bright
through the night,
Though the flame wavered
Every once in a while.
All the while needles whispered
Threads of fated hymnsong
Into the cloth.
“Tomorrow,” one said.
“Together,” they agreed,
And Jesus wept
For the vigil kept
Through the witching hour.
Bread and water
Blood and bone,
Body and spirit
Upon the stone,
See him in
The trees atone,
May the love
Of God be known.
