Macon Magazine

84 maconmagazine.com | FEBRUARY/MARCH 2024 I f we were each asked to paint one image to showcase a religious tradition, I know what mine would be: a covered dish supper. It's the kind of meal where people set down a corn casserole next to fried chicken, maybe a bean salad, and trust in the wonderful chaos that happens at the gathered table. In each act of bringing, placing, spilling, and arranging, we co- create a table for being nourished. "The world begins at a kitchen table," says the poet Joy Harjo, inviting us to consider what happens when the food doesn't simply feed us, it forms us. More connection, understanding, and becoming can happen in our moments at the table. We know the magic of a meal to remember, when good food and good wine leave us mystified by the moment. Looking across the table at a raised glass and a plate of bread, we experience grace and shalom. Those moments of astounding connection to the people around you? The experience is called "collective effervescence," something that nourishes body and soul. Sociologist Dr. Shira Gabriel says this kind of wonder "occurs when we are with other people who are not necessarily relationship partners, and we have a feeling of connection, that something sacred, transcendent or special is going on." The soul-stirring experience might happen at a table at The Society Garden or in an ornate cathedral. A raised glass and a shared plate o en invite us to attend to our spiritual growth. Is that why we find ourselves positioned around a laden table in many of our sacred traditions? We o en ritualize moments that are, on BY REV. DR. ERIN ROBINSON HALL the surface, practical. A simple fact of being human is that we must eat. Saying grace before we pass the rolls adds a ritual, which liturgical scholar Frank Senn defines as a pattern that "expresses and forms a way of life." When we involve our senses in these patterns, using sight, taste, movement, or sound, we codify a belief with our bodies. Embodied experiences invite us to hold one truth – and imagine another. "Every holy day, besides the fast days, has a food associated with it," says Bonnie Cornelius, member of Congregation Sha'arey Israel. Bread is a powerful image for her family. "We say a blessing over the challah every Friday night at the beginning of Shabbat. The challah is braided to symbolize unity/togetherness – the way it is braided produces twelve humps representing our people, the twelve tribes of Israel." Remembering and claiming are vital parts of life at Bibb Mt. Zion Baptist Church. Pastor Rev. Paul Little says, "In the African American Church context, there is an inseparable connection between food and fellowship." Founded in 1862, the church has seen notable seasons of change. Yet, once a month, a group of women called the Deaconess Ministry meticulously prepares a time-honored tradition: the table for the Lord's Supper. The congregation sings and reads scripture before turning to the well-appointed spread. Pastor Little says, "When we come to this table, we linger." Permission to linger and draw meaning from the food we share is a gi . To linger, even when to-do lists loom, is to claim a holy pause. The Lord's Supper calls people to remember their belovedness, claiming In a city with houses of faith on nearly every corner, Rev. Dr. Erin Robinson Hall's column explores the interconnectedness of Macon's faith communities and the diverse ways Maconites nourish their spiritual health and the wellbeing of those around them, inspired by "On Being" podcast host Krista Tippet's idea that "religion is as cup; spirituality is as water." C U P S A N D W A T E R

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