Redemption With A Side of Eggs
A sorry came unexpected this morning in Ohio with a side of eggs. My waiter, a fellow I had met once before under less than pleasant circumstances. We had a single yet aggravated conversation about why I was going to cast an empty ballot in the last presidential election. My posture had been arrogant and I left that evening feeling–"like an ass" were the precise words I chose at the time if I'm going to be honest. So here I am, coffee being poured by what you could call an ideological enemy.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.
As a child I read that Psalm as David saying that God would aid his arrogant taunting. But a friend recently told me that the poetry and symbolism actually has more to do with the process of making peace. The table is set for the enemy to dine at, not to observe while left hungry. David spoke here of God as mediator of peace rather than destroyer of those we dislike.
Recounting the tense conversation to the fellow I had come to eat breakfast with, I wondered out loud how this would probably a good opportunity to make things right.
I never got the chance; my enemy beat me to it, "Hey, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about the last time we met. I was a real ass about the whole thing." I laughed at the providence of his word choice as we shook hands and I told my side of the story.
God continues to prepare the healing table in our presence, the only thing left is a willingness to sit and eat.