T is for TABLE

Our kitchen table at home was square, with four thick wooden legs and a top that was about three quarters of an inch thick. It could be extended to twice the length by pulling out the two leaves that nestled neatly below the main top, but this was rarely needed, though at most meal times one extension was used. The table remained in the kitchen area until mum and dad passed away, but long before that, they had already resigned themselves to sitting at the square unless some of the extended family dropped in at an unexpected or prearranged mealtime.

At primary school our dinner table was our desk, such was the confined space in which lunch hour operated though I don't remember pupils bringing lunch to school and have no recollection as to where they sat if they did indeed supply their own food.

By the time I had reached grammar school, the dining setting was altogether more ornate and much more formal with eight pupils sitting at a heavy wooden table marshalled by a sixth former who directed all operations relating to the sharing of the food which came to each table in containers. And while there was clearly enough food for everyone at a table, the senior pupils clearly didn't have the vision of the cooks when they served it on to the plates and one glance around the table clearly displayed the haves and the have nots. Every seat had on its back the carved name of a former pupil including his years of attendance and many of the tables had also been donated in memory of some individual who no doubt had suffered the famine years of first form in a field of plenty. Mostly, we had to eat our lunch in silence, which in an educational world that attempts to equip us with all the social skills to communicate, seemed to me to be a bit pointless, especially as a dining table is generally considered to be the perfect place to spend time conversing. The first two tables we had in our own home were both round and while they can sometimes suffer from lack of space for all the requirements for a dinner party they do compensate by allowing everyone to be involved in a conversation and sometimes prevent others from carrying on their own personal tête-à-tête.

Recently we bought a new table, this time rectangular in shape and have enjoyed some great evenings around it with friends, so much so that we rarely leave it for the comfort of a living room , such is the appeal of good conversation over a meal. But during the renovations that preceded it, most days for several weeks, our table was an upturned door balanced precariously on top of a cardboard box. Let's just say, conversation was usually short and to the point and some meals were eaten from a standing start though that experience does help one to appreciate a good table when it arrives.

In a way we're a bit addicted to tables, though I think it's more the opportunity it affords to enjoy a good chat, spread out a newspaper or just enjoy a coffee or drink and a read. This is especially true of outside where we now have several places to sit at different small tables and to enjoy the company and fresh air or just to ponder the day's thoughts alone.

It's interesting that Jesus reclined at a table with His disciples and later that day, took bread, broke it and gave thanks before offering it to them as a symbol of His body. As we come before His table at communion and share also the wine as a symbol of His blood representing the new covenant, we are reminded that to take part in such a sacrament without having surrendered our lives to Him is to live a lie. The Lord's table has a special significance and purpose for all believers and is a constant reminder of His goodness towards us and His constant presence with us. The Psalmist, in that well known chapter 23, says 'You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.' God provides all we need through His love and regardless of our human frailness or difficulties, our table is always full of the good things He can give. Maybe it's time to rest awhile at that table and see for yourself.