com·mun·ion: n · an act or instance of sharing; a Christian sacrament; an intimate fellowship or rapport

“It turned out really good!” said the coordinator of our second-grade potluck luncheon. She was thanking everyone for doing their part and we were thanking her for pulling it all together. As moms we had taken our places behind the buffet, making certain no one under 48 inches tried to reach into the hot Crock-Pots at the back of the table, their cords straining to reach the wall outlets. Regardless of whose child it was, we worked together as they went down the line. “Why don’t you eat that and you can always come back for more,” one mom said to another’s kid as he tried to top an overloaded bowl of mac-and-cheese. “Try a little bit of this,” another mom said to a fourth mom’s child. “If you don’t like it, just leave it at the side of your plate.”

Aaah. Teamwork.

Our pastor got everyone to quiet down for a prayer before we ate, and I did the obligatory sneak-a-peek when my head was supposed to be bowed and my eyes were supposed to be closed. It’s just amazing what can happen when we come together for a meal.

Plates filled and portions monitored, moms moved from behind the buffet table to fill up for ourselves, then we found a place to sit. The kids were all around one table, laughing and eating and enjoying a kind of time together they don’t get in Sunday classes. Several groups of parents had scattered around the room, but some put down their forks and grabbed their cups so we could fill in at one table. We talked about how close we are to the kids celebrating their First Communion, about purchasing suits and white dresses and planning parties for family and friends who will share the day with our children.

There’s so much you can learn over the course of a meal together. It’s a fact of life. We gather to eat. And when we do, the eating is secondary … though recipes were swapped, as they are at any potluck. We all know we’re not supposed to talk with our mouths full, but we didn’t care. This was a chance to learn about each other and we wanted to take advantage of that.

This weekend in that same room more than 50 Crock-Pots will be plugged into every imaginable outlet. Some volunteers won’t even bring food. They'll bring labeled extension cords and power strips all in the hopes of keeping the food hot for their guests. Other volunteers will bring clothing donations, or sweets to follow up the soups and stews that are served. More than 300 disadvantaged men and women are expected to gather in that church hall for food and conversation provided by parishioners.

For food AND conversation. Normally I wouldn't bring religion into this space, but I was especially intrigued when I found the primary definition of the word communion at Webster.com. So often this word is associated with Christianity and with ... well ... eating. But above all else, the word means to share ... and what you're sharing isn't specified in the definition. Thinking about last Saturday, and knowing what's to come this Saturday, sharing ourselves, and accepting what others offer us, is what mealtime can really be about. It’s amazing what we have in common when we take the time to look for it. Who will you eat with this week?