Share the Bounty: The Ministry Around the Table
While munching on one of the cucumbers overflowing my vegetable bin, I sat down to work on this newsletter. What should I write about? FOOD. That was thought that popped in my head. I love to eat. Who else seemed to love food, or at least paid close attention whenever Jesus gathered around a table?
Luke
I have discovered that one Bible question usually leads to five more, and fortunately, the journey is often as rewarding as the answer. My next question was which book of the Bible contains the most meals?
I have not counted every meal in both the Old and New Testaments so I am not presenting this as a formal theological investigation. Still, I feel confident that of the Gospels? It must be Luke, right? If one of you has actually counted the meals and knows I am wrong, please let me know. I am enjoying learning so much back from you as well.
Luke is becoming my favorite Gospel, and part of the reason may simply be that he paid close attention whenever Jesus ate. Again and again, Luke places Jesus around a table. He eats with tax collectors and sinners, accepts invitations into homes, feeds hungry crowds, visits Zacchaeus, and breaks bread with the disciples on the road to Emmaus. Even after the resurrection, Luke records Jesus eating a piece of broiled fish.
Was Luke simply a hearty eater? The more I followed this rabbit hole, the more I realized Luke was not merely recording what Jesus ate. He was showing us how Jesus loved.
Early in Luke’s Gospel, Levi holds a great feast in his house. A large company of tax collectors and others sits down with Jesus. Naturally, the religious leaders begin murmuring. They want to know why Jesus would eat with people they consider unworthy.
“They that are whole need not a physician; but they that are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.”— Luke 5:31–32 (KJV)
Jesus did not wait for those people to become respectable before He sat down with them. He met them where they were, at the table.
Luke shows this repeatedly. In Simon the Pharisee’s house, Simon sees a sinful woman while Jesus sees a person in need of forgiveness. In Martha and Mary’s home, Jesus reminds Martha that serving must not crowd out being present. At Zacchaeus’ house, a door opens, a table is prepared, and a life begins to change. Meals become places of forgiveness, teaching, restoration, and welcome. People who have been pushed aside discover they have not been forgotten.
Some of Christ’s greatest sermons were not preached from mountains. They were lived around tables.
Jesus also warns against hospitality that is simply another kind of performance. There is a way of giving that quietly keeps records. Who thanked us? Who returned the favor? Who noticed? Who saw the social media post?
Jesus describes a different kind of table.
“But when thou makest a feast, call the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind: And thou shalt be blessed; for they cannot recompense thee.” — Luke 14:13–14 (KJV)
Christlike generosity does not require repayment or recognition. It does not turn another person’s need into our advertisement. It simply makes room.
A Welcome Basket and a Kind Word
Our garden has been generous this year. The cucumbers are already overflowing the fridge and before long several cantaloupes may decide to ripen at exactly the same time. Gardens apparently have no respect for refrigerator space or sensible schedules. We cannot keep all the bounty, nor should we.
Someone may soon move into the house next door, and we are thinking about putting together a small welcome package. Perhaps some garden produce will find its way into it. We do not want to insert ourselves into their lives or demand friendship. We simply want them to know they have friendly neighbors and that this is the kind of neighborhood where people quietly watch out for one another.
If they ever need help carrying a box, borrowing a tool, finding something in town, or simply seeing a friendly face nearby, we hope they will know they can knock. No grand announcement. No sermon. No expectation in return. Just a welcome basket and a little bounty shared.
Not long ago, I experienced another small moment of this kind in an Aldi parking lot. An employee cheerfully loaded groceries into our trunk. Her joy was infectious.
Customer service workers hear plenty of complaints. They are blamed for prices they did not set, policies they did not write, products they did not manufacture, and circumstances they cannot control. People are quick to speak when something goes wrong. We are not always as quick to speak when someone has been helpful.
So I said to her, “May all of the rest of your customers today be kind, and may they not take away your joy.” That joy she already had? It doubled. She was so happy somebody noticed her joy.
Her response told me that words mattered. I was not there as a representative of First Church of the Gospel Ministry. I was simply trying to be a decent human being. That distinction matters to me.
Christian kindness should not appear only when we are officially “doing ministry.” It should not be something we put on with our Sunday clothes and remove when the service ends.
We are not generating our own goodness. We are reflecting His.
When Christ fills a heart, His light becomes too abundant to contain. It naturally spills into gardens, neighborhoods, Aldi parking lots, welcome baskets, hospital rooms, prison visits, sidewalks, and kitchen tables. The Christian life is not a role we perform. It is a life we live.
Permit Me to Let You Off the Hook
These letters are not written to tell you how to minister. Many of you have served faithfully for years. Dr. Davy wanted those who were called to have the freedom to serve where God led them, whether that was from a pulpit, inside a prison, on a street corner, or through quiet personal ministry. I am not handing you another list of things every minister must now do. You already carry enough.
In fact, the point this month is almost the opposite: You are not the sole source of ministry. You were never meant to be.
Christ is the source. The Church is the body. Our calling is not only to perform every act of ministry ourselves. It is also to help others recognize that Christ can work through their ordinary lives.
Paul wrote that apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers were given:
“…for the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ.”
— Ephesians 4:11–12 (KJV)
The work of ministry is spread throughout the body. It does not belong only to the person behind a pulpit, someone with a title, or someone with a popular Instagram account featuring a heavily cultivated image of what Christians are supposed to LOOK like.
We do not need everyone to look like a professional minister. We need people to look like Christ.
Sometimes one of the greatest things a minister can do is help another person understand that they also have something to give. They may not have extra bread, money to spare, a pulpit, or a public voice. They may have a smile, a prayer, a listening ear, a patient moment, or a kind word.
You cannot make every visit, speak every encouraging word, or meet every need in your community. But you can remind the people you minister to that they are not spectators.
When someone leaves a service and carries kindness into Monday, ministry continues. When someone encourages a cashier, welcomes a neighbor, visits someone lonely, shares food, forgives an old offense, or simply listens, ministry continues.
A body of ordinary people reflecting Christ can reach places no single minister can reach alone. Perhaps our success as ministers is not measured only by how many people hear us, but also by how many leave believing that Christ can shine through them.
We equip. We encourage. We set the example. Then we trust God with the increase.
A Small Emmaus
Near the end of Luke, two disappointed and confused disciples walk toward Emmaus. Jesus walks beside them, although they do not recognize Him. He listens. He teaches. Then He sits down with them.
“And it came to pass, as he sat at meat with them, he took bread, and blessed it, and brake, and gave to them. And their eyes were opened, and they knew him…” — Luke 24:30–31 (KJV)
Their eyes were opened in the breaking of bread. Not on a stage or before a cheering crowd, but at a table.
Perhaps every table has the possibility of becoming a small Emmaus, a place where someone is heard and Christ becomes visible through welcome, patience, and shared provision.
We may never know how much an ordinary meal, a bag of cucumbers, or a simple word of encouragement means to another person. That is all right. The results belong to God. Our part is to notice, welcome, share, and reflect.
This month, what has been on my heart is Luke, tables, gardens, neighbors, and the quiet ways Christ’s love passes from one person to another. We are not generating our own goodness. We are reflecting His. When His love fills us, it becomes bounty—not merely bounty held in our hands, but bounty carried in our hearts. Bounty too good to hoard. Bounty meant to be shared.
Closing Prayer
Heavenly Father,
We thank Thee for every good gift Thou hast placed within our care: bread upon the table, fruit upon the vine, vegetables from the garden, homes that can offer welcome, and hands able to share.
Bless not only the bounty in our hands, but also the bounty within our hearts. Plant within us kindness that grows freely, patience when others are difficult, compassion for those who feel forgotten, and love that does not keep score.
When our baskets are full, make us generous. When our cupboards are empty, remind us that we may still offer a smile, a prayer, a listening ear, a patient moment, or a kind word.
Bless those who labor in ministry. Release them from the burden of believing every visit, every encouragement, and every act of service depends upon them. Help them equip the people they serve to carry the love of Christ into places they themselves may never enter.
Make our tables places where people are welcomed, heard, and reminded that they have not been forgotten. Help us give without demanding repayment, share without needing recognition, and let our lives reflect Christ beyond Sunday.
Whether the bounty before us is a feast, a welcome basket, a kind word in a parking lot, or simply one more cucumber from the garden, make us thankful. Then teach us to share.
We ask these things in the name of Jesus Christ,
Amen.
Yours In Christ,
Kelly Kendrick Sister Cathy
Kelly Kendrick Dr. Cathy J. Kendrick
Treasurer Bishop Of the Church
First Church of The Gospel Ministry