Overhearing the Kingdom at Panera Bread Company

15 Bloomfield Avenue
Montclair, New Jersey
October 10, 2009
2:23 p.m. Eastern Time

I’m sitting by the windows, warm in the sun, expectant of a late lunch. A woman seated nearby is surrounded by papers and mail. Even from this distance, I see that she is reading a flyer from a nearby Unitarian-Universalist congregation announcing opportunities for ministry in and among the local community.

My order is ready, and I stand up to get it. Behind me, another woman is typing on her laptop. I glance down and see the computer screen. She’s writing an email to a friend. “You better believe that I’m praying for that commercial loan to come through for you…the prayers are going up, and the blessings are coming down.”

I return to my table. As I begin to eat, I notice a father and young son at another nearby table. The son, a chatty and excited five-year-old, reminds his father of a summer trip to the Jersey shore, apparently hoping to return as soon as possible. “They’re all closed down now,” the father says patiently. “The boardwalk and the stores, they’re only open in the spring and summer, when people are around. We’ll go again when the spring returns.”

I turn my attention to my chicken salad and corn chowder, only to hear the son exclaim moments later, as if to inform the entire restaurant: “But when you’re DEAD you’re really gone, right?”

“Right, that’s it.. You’re just…gone.” Dad seems a bit embarrassed, either by the subject or his son’s exuberance in sharing it with the general public. The son, however, is not quite finished on the topic.

“I heard a story once, about someone who had come alive again…” and then the story trails off in a volume insufficient for further eavesdropping. Once again I return attention to my chowder, now rapidly cooling in spite of the autumn sunshine pouring through the windows.

Soon father and son prepare to leave the restaurant. The father momentarily steps away from the table. The son holds up a clear plastic bag containing a large round loaf of bread, from which some has been torn—no doubt for their lunch. And in that exuberant voice and tone again: “Here, here—I’ll give this to you for your birthday!”

One season ends, and a new season begins; birthdays and death days are remembered and honored; opportunities for ministry, encouragement and intercessory prayer present themselves; we hear stories of good times in the past, and rumors of resurrection—and in the midst of it all, a little child. And a great big tasty loaf of bread, meant to be broken and shared so that many might be fed.

Do I really need to go to church tomorrow? Yes, I think so…I have something wondrous to share. Here, here…let me show you…