Share your food, dude

Eating and playing after praising our Lord,

The pastor gave me a disturbing word:

Some of the kids in this very lunch line

Would not eat again for quite some time.

Many come to church there just for the food,

They come for the table, is that any good?

These children's needs are easily met,

Some cheap pilau, some games, and they're set.

Of course we will feed the neighbors who come,

The rice was enough for firsts and then some.

But how shall we feed the affluent ones?

The doctors and lawyers, their daughters and sons

Have different hungers, more deftly concealed,

What vacancy is filled before it's revealed?

We share at the table like children, we say,

"The bread and the wine that we share today,

remind us of Jesus' life and his death.

Partaking, we too have death and new breath."

But somehow after our cannibals' fare,

I still have some room in my belly to spare.

I can still go to lunch, I still eat a full meal,

Eating with all of my usual zeal.

Perhaps the last supper is only our first,

Without filling our bellies or slaking our thirst

The living bread builds us ever more able.

We live life in the habit of sharing our table.