Justice is Important, But Supper is Essential

We’ve made it through an election cycle, one that has stoked old divisions and fears, and caused uncertainty for Americans and Canadians alike. As we move forward, it is worth remembering that much of the real work of citizenship—in whatever country you call home, and (more importantly) in God’s here-and-coming kingdom—begins at our tables. As Trixie pointed out last week, our tables are places where our bodies and souls can be fed, where strangers can become friends, and where our Christ-like longing for justice can put on flesh.  

I know this from my own experience.  

Every other Saturday evening, a group of men get together in downtown Edmonton for a potluck supper. Made up of volunteers, parolees, and inmates with special leave from the prison, the group has been meeting every other week for over 10 years in support and solidarity with those leaving prison. I’ve had the privilege of hosting this oddball community of second chances for the last 6 years.

The folks around the table are as diverse as the dishes they bring: a retired machinist brings home-made scalloped potatoes; a successful businessman brings a bucket of KFC; an incarcerated home-builder brings 2 litre bottles of soda; a recent college graduate brings homemade quinoa salad; a parolee serving a life sentence picks up a banana cream pie on his way home from the fabrication shop where he works.

A retired machinist brings home-made scalloped potatoes; a successful businessman brings a bucket of KFC; an incarcerated home-builder brings 2 litre bottles of soda; a recent college graduate brings homemade quinoa salad; a parolee serving a life sentence picks up a banana cream pie on his way home from the fabrication shop where he works.  

The reasons they come are just as diverse: to find a listening ear; to offer some wisdom gained by 70 years of living; to support folks in a moment of transition; to appease a parole officer; to eat a warm meal; to not be alone for a night.  

Whoever ends up coming to the table and whatever it is that brings them there, more often than not the folks who come find something that brings them back again. Maybe they find an answer to an unasked question or maybe they just find a belly full of greasy chicken. But it’s enough to bring them back to our table two weeks later.

I’ve thought about this dinner table in relation to Ed Loring’s insistence that ‘justice is important, but supper is essential’. Why would Ed, the founder of Atlanta’s Open Door Community, say that supper—and not the more weighty work of justice—is the essential thing? I can think of at least two reasons.

The first is a simple one: eating with others is good, deeply good, for us. Several recent public health studies have concluded that eating alone is bad for our health, and, conversely, eating with others is very good for our well-being. That should be no surprise to followers of Jesus. Jesus spent a good deal of his ministry eating with others, welcoming all sorts of saints and sinners to all sorts of tables, constantly reversing the roles of guest and host.    

Jesus’ generous table manners point to a basic human truth: at our tables we may experience God’s intention for His creation to live in joyful, thankful communion. It’s one of the reasons that the Lord’s Supper is such a significant act for the church, something Trixie described last week.

There is another reason that ‘supper is essential’: eating with people—especially with folks on the margins—grounds our work for justice and our prayers for peace.

There is another reason that ‘supper is essential’: eating with people—especially with folks on the margins—grounds our work for justice and our prayers for peace. Eating with folks whose experiences are very different than ours makes our commitment to justice a matter of solidarity with those who’ve experienced poverty, exclusion, or powerlessness and not just a commitment to principles or ideals (as important as those are) or a reaction to our own guilt or anger (as important a motivator as that can be).    

It seems to me that Jesus’ announcement of God’s shalom-kingdom was not first a matter of talking about God’s future kingdom but witnessing to and embodying that kingdom on the road and at the table as strangers became friends. So it can be for us. Our longing for Jesus’ just and peaceable kingdom is an invitation to encounter real people, to journey with them and create space for their voices to be heard. Our justice and peacemaking can then be about the real people and real places that our Creator wants to flourish.  

I’ve seen this in the lives of many who come to our motley downtown supper table on Saturday nights. Their experiences at the table have prompted them to do the hands-on work of justice. Some have looked for housing or jobs for themselves or others. Others have started to address structural injustices in large and small ways: one began a small lamp-making business to create income for parolees and tell their stories; others were prompted to have awkward conversation with friends and fellow church-goers about folks behind bars; others started to vote differently, with their dinner-table friends in mind.  

For all of them, the supper table was the beginning of their journeys towards justice, and remains the place where their journeys are grounded. I think many of them would agree: ‘Justice is important, but supper is essential.’  

Jonathan is one of our 7 new Do Justice columnists, who will be writing regularly about the challenges, questions, and joys of doing justice in their contexts. We've already heard from Trixie Ling and John Eigege. Meet our columnists!