Photo © Unsplash/The Joy of Film
In the Most Holy Room
of God's Desert House,
there was a small, open door
to the universe,
where God sat between
His angels and talked
with humanity.
Okay, so the angels were gold
and it was just one man
and God had to make Himself tiny enough
to be stuffed into a room.
Still, for those moments,
it was as if God could have
His cosmic family
together in the same place.
Kind of like a mom
who dreams of having everyone
home again
for Thanksgiving.
Photo © CreationSwap/CreationSwap
What kind of God is this,
who issues an invitation
to a personal dinner,
an intimate feast?
Just a little get-together
for seventy of His
(I-hope-you'll-choose-to-be-My)
closest friends.
Indeed, one gets closer
as the courses proceed.
For this mountaintop banquet
was just the amuse-bouche on God's menu
of spiritual nourishment revelation.
None of those seventy elders
could have imagined
the truth about the God
who stood on the veranda of
brilliant blue lapis lazuli,
that His invitation
to feast with Him
would eventually become
an invitation
to feast on Him,
that His offer of dinner
would soon be
an offering of Himself.
His body and blood,
our bread, our wine,
our life.
Has it not always been so?
