(“He waited seven days, the time appointed
by Samuel, but Samuel didn’t come to Gilgal, and his troops began to desert.” 1
Samuel 13:8)
When waiting is the worst activity,
and being late is the ultimate sin,
we are tempted to take life into our own hands
(as if we could ever take life into our own hands)
and miss the final ingredient to complete the recipe
sending the aroma throughout the house for days.
But we jump too quickly, we act like another hour
is stealing precious jewels from our life. So, we prepare the meal,
feed those gathered,
and finish the pie just at the time the honored guest
arrives tardily. We hardly know what to say.
Did our stomachs grumble that much,
did we think we would starve for missing a meal,
did we think our guest would never show up,
did we think he was unreliable? Yet
It was we who rushed. It was we who could think of
no other way to spend our time in waiting
than to go ahead and eat the stew and biscuits,
drink the wine and water, serve the pie and cakes and
in the drowsiness after dinner forget we ever were
expecting a guest.
What do you say to the one you had gathered to honor,
what do you serve the one who had fed you well so
many times before?
What greeting can change the presumption that
makes previous arrangements the law of the table?
The dishes are not yet gathered. The family dog is
licking
the plates.
We hear the knock on the door and are awakened from our
self-satisfied slumber to see
the one we had planned to feed. And we have
No excuse at all.
Waiting and keeping the communal meal warm
is an act of love, no matter how late anyone arrives.
Let us try again tomorrow night. We will wait,
we will play cards, we will listen to music, we will
tell jokes and silly stories to pass the time.
And when the last one arrives, we will serve
the meal with joy. With wine aplenty, we will sing
into the night.
