So I'm at the airport. This time its Denver International, and I'm on my way back to Kansas City for a pit stop before heading to Indianapolis. We just wrapped up the National Gathering of American Baptist Youth, this time known as MtW ("More than a Week") and it certainly was more than a week, because I've been here for twelve days and I miss Christy and the girls immensely. (more than a week was meant to convey that the mountaintop experience with a diverse group of 1300+ people from more than 31 states is meant to be an equipping moment for a lifetime journey of discipleship, but I digress).
One of the cool things about this week was the chance to share meals with old and new friends. Some of the planning team and volunteers of the conference have been a part of the process of these events for over a decade, with at least two meetings a year and then the national gathering taking place once every four years. Over these years some of us have become quite close. In fact, this has become a community of trust for me and some of the only people I have been able to completely open myself to as we have shared experiences in ministry, even though we come from far off places and different backgrounds. It was good to just be with friends once again, (and one of the only reasons I had returned for another four year commitment that officially ended yesterday).
It was also cool to be able to place my tray of powdered eggs and (un)crispy waffle at any table and over the course of breakfast share a glimpse of abundant life with strangers/friends who had also come to the mountaintop to worship and share the path of discipleship. There were "reunions" with kids from Winfield, Kansas (who were not born yet when I first attended a national youth gathering in 1990), my hometown and home church, and I learned that things in Winfield were pretty much the same now as then. I met youth from Connecticut, Rhode Island, California, Michigan, and more. I really enjoyed stolen moments at the table with the youth from Indiana and especially "my kids" from FBC Indianapolis. I had orange juice on my lap one meal as I sat with some of my new friends from Kansas. And I snuck off the grounds with some of my oldest and dearest friends in the world--we had steak at the Chop House in honor of Houlker.
The food was average, predictable, industrial, conference fare. Some meals I opted for a protein bar in place of more chicken or fake eggs. One meal I skipped altogether to spend precious time with two friends from Indiana that just happened to be passing through the YMCA of the Rockies and at the right moment walking though the registration building as I was having coffee and talking about church planting with another good friend. I left our time together at that cafe table more than a mile high and that unexpected time together with John and Carol was more nourishing than any food.
The week ended with an extra day to take the FBC Indy kids to the top of the continental divide and then down to Denver for a hotel night and horrible Mexican food at the infamous Casa Bonita.
All in all, not the healthiest week food-wise. But the best part of the week was every moment I had to share the table, to break bread, to linger longer, to hold one another in the care and nourishment of God's spirit-at-work when lives touch. Jesus knew something of the abundant life and introduced it to us at the table. If you reflect on your own times when you are simply sharing life at the table with others, (instead of snarfing instant food from impersonal food chains in isolation and in hurry), when we share the table, when we break bread together, we too have a glimpse of and can taste the abundant life. After all, and especially in moments of communion (common-union), its not the food. Its the company.
