Not Too Poetry

(‘You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies’ – Ps 23)

The Lord’s Table, prepared in the presence of our differences,
somewhere where we can sit side by side,
or possibly face to face, with nowhere to hide
– only separated by breads and fruits and meats and wine,
taking our hands from our swords, and raising them, not in anger,
but to toast the opportunity for respite, perchance to peace
replacing the clash of blades with the meeting of cups
filled from the same jars
– a miracle of sorts.

I used to think the table in Psalm 23 was just for the writer – to demonsrate God’s favour on him and distain for his enemies. But a table from which the writer can offer hospitality seems more apt and more consistent to the God I know.