Domination and Submission

We spent – for the first time since we had kids – Thanksgiving alone this year. Having the extra time off (and not driving) was a real blessing and I’m sure that both Lyn and I found some of the sleep that we had been missing.

We sat up late on Thanksgiving night and channel surfed; while we talked the TV ended up on Charlie Rose (a late night talk show on PBS). The show was interviewing chefs who had given recipes or thought to a book called “The Last Supper” (which asks the question: if you were going to eat one last meal, what would you eat and who would you eat it with?). The book seems interesting enough – but at some point, Rose reads from (I think) the introduction, a passage that goes something like this:

Being a chef is the ultimate act of domination. You select the ingredients and lead a crew until you have forced several individual parts into one dish. And, if that is so, then ...

Eating is the ultimate act of submission. Allowing yourself to be served, and forced to the whim, the skill and loves of the chef.

This immediately reminded me of one of my grandmothers (I’ma – pronounced Ah’maw). She was a country lady who cooked some of the best food I have ever eaten. She cooked all the time; but never sat to eat (at least when anyone could see her). No matter what anyone said to her, she rarely sat and enjoyed the fruits of her own hand.

In this area, she lacked the ability to submit. As this thought was rolling around in my mind, I started to realize just how many areas I have trouble submitting.

Sunday morning, PJ asked someone else to lead worship. As we began to really get to some of the wonderful places, I looked up from my place at the piano and saw him, flat on his face; then later on his knees; then later: jumping up and down with joy.

It touched my heart that he was willing to submit to the leadership of another worship leader; and the move of God. It blessed me to be able to minister to him (as part of the team); even as we were ministering to God and receiving ministry from God.

I can’t help but wonder how great it would have been to have served my I’ma a meal. To show her just how much we loved her by lavishing upon her the very thing that she loved to give us. I think that we all missed something wonderful there.

I am also reminded of Jesus. Who came not to rule; but to serve. But, even He allowed Mary to serve Him. Breaking that precious bottle of perfume over His feet and then wiping His feet with her hair.

Happy December everyone.
Andy

Oh: to play the Last Supper game. I’d like fried chicken; a slice (or 5) of Papa Tim’s home-made country ham; I’ma’s cream corn; fresh snap beans; Lyn’s broccoli casserole; a bottomless glass of sweet tea and (for dessert) I’d like this chocolate layer cake that I’ma used to make and a glass of milk to wash it down. I’d eat it with Lyn, Tim, Mack, and my mom and dad (I’ma would be too busy cooking to come and sit down).

My Last Supper