Gathering at the Roundtable

William Johnson Everett

(From Conflict and Communion: Reconciliation and Restorative Justice at Christ's Table, ed. Thomas Porter [Nashville: Discipleship Resources, 2006], 121-129. Posted with permission of the publisher. To purchase the entire volume go to www.upperroom.org/bookstore/description.asp?item_id=310214.

When he was at table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him…
Luke 24: 30-31a

Twice a month a small group gathers on a Sunday evening in a circle at a round table in the spacious narthex of a church in Waynesville, North Carolina. Songs, readings, prayers, and conversation greet passersby in the hallways, who also see the company sharing bread and passing cups, eating while they talk. Sometimes the speakers pass a feather as they speak in turn. They linger after blessings as they clear the table and return the space to its utilitarian use.

At first glance it may look like just another gathering for prayer, a return to some early form of Methodist class meeting or Moravian love feast, perhaps a house church that has lost its home. In its simplicity it bears these classic marks, but beneath them it is also a hopeful seed of more, even something radical in the original sense. We who gather at the table are seeking the roots of Christian worship in the work of reconciliation as it emerges in the kind of circle processes lifted up in this book. In this brief space I want to make a report from the field about what we do, why we do it, and what we have learned about its challenges.

At the heart of the gathering is the round table. In our time the round table has become a symbol of the revolution from dictatorial or monarchical forms of government to democratic self-government. A round table has become a Roundtable. At the roundtable people come together as equals to express and understand their differences, explore their common ground, and negotiate new covenants to shape a new life together in peace. Whether in India's Roundtable Conferences in the early 1930s to find a path to self-governance, in Poland's and East Germany's emergence from Communist rule in the late 1980s, or in many other settings around the world, the roundtable has been both a means to reconciliation and a symbol of non-violent resolution of conflict. As South Africa's Truth and Reconciliation Commission has shown us, the path of negotiated revolution also demands taking the path toward the truth about our brokenness and the reconciliation that can heal us.

The Reasons We Gather

These Sunday evening gatherings are an effort to flesh out a form of worship that puts the dynamic of the roundtable, as a symbol of the work of reconciliation, at its center. The roundtable forms an intersection between the practical effort to transform conflict in our world and the symbolic work of connecting ourselves to the deepest purposes of God -- the Holy One who creates, sustains, and transforms our world.

To understand what is going on at the roundtable as a form of worship we need to remember that all worship takes symbols and practices from our social and political life in order to connect us to the deepest patterns and energies of existence.(1) Whether it employs the kneeling and clasped hands that bound vassals to lords in medieval Europe, or the ecstatic waving hands of a rock concert, worship both borrows from its cultural environment and also gives back symbols and rituals that it has baptized in transcendent meanings. The question for worship leaders has always been what cultural symbols and practices to borrow, how to reconstruct them within a theological framework, and how to re-introduce them to the environing culture. Roundtable-centered worship is no exception.

As I look at it, roundtable worship makes the most sense if we look at worship first of all as a kind of drama. Vital worship is the rehearsal of a primordial drama that we enter in order to find a meaningful place in the narrative of human life. Worship is an ever-repeated but always changing theatrical reality that gives us roles, scripts, plots, and properties for living out our lives. In this sense the roundtable can be seen as a theatrical property that stands at the center of a drama of reconciliation. The drama it evokes, however, is not the only form that the drama of reconciliation has taken in Christian churches over the centuries. While the drama of the roundtable reaches back to the earliest elements of Jewish and Christian understandings of reconciliation, it stands in sharp tension with what has been the dominant worship drama of reconciliation - the drama of the sacrifice of the Son to the Father.

This sacrificial drama focuses on the altar. It presents reconciliation within a hierarchical relationship, especially that of patriarchal hierarchy. The altar sees reconciliation as the result of a once-bloody sacrifice of an obedient son to his father. This self-sacrificing obedience encapsulated the core issues of how power and authority are transmitted from the patriarch to his son, who must be obedient in order to inherit the kingdom of his father. This was the political vision at the heart of the Christian worship that built on the story of Abraham's willingness to sacrifice Isaac, on the Psalms of King David, on Isaiah's prophecies, and on the life of Jesus. It finds its most elaborate rehearsal in the rituals of Holy Week.

The roundtable sees reconciliation as a new relationship among women and men who have been baptized into the equality of a new assembly. While the altar focuses on obedience, the table lifts up persuasion, mutual empathy, and the dynamics of circle process explored by Thomas Porter and Marcia McFee in this book. At the table, reconciliation emerges in the meeting, eating, and conversing together at table. In the biblical narrative we see it emerging in the reversal of roles at Holy Thursday, in the disciples' resurrection encounters with the Christ as they break bread, and in the language-transcending communication at Pentecost. Reconciliation requires that the conversation evoked at the table culminate in a renewed covenant to seek right relationships with each other and with God's creation. The covenant that emerges at the traditional altar is a hierarchical covenant offered by a king to his vassal. The covenant emerging at the table is one of mutual promise among fellow citizens gathered in the Spirit of the Christ, that is, the Spirit of a coming new creation.

The gathering in a circle around the table is a powerful symbol of this work of reconciliation, mutual responsibility, and renewed commitment to the common good symbolized by the table. The circle processes embedded in Native American tradition, in nineteenth century women's circles, in councils and negotiations among equals since time immemorial are remembered and rehearsed in our circle gathering.(2)

The roundtable stands not only at the intersection of the practical work of reconciliation and the symbolic work of worship. It also forms a kind of meeting place between the sacramental traditions of worship centered in the altar, and preaching traditions centered in the pulpit. Sacramentalists, as in the worship reforms after the Second Vatican Council, have increasingly refocused worship on the table. At the same time churches rooted in a preaching tradition have begun placing the table at least on an equal plane with the pulpit. The roundtable seeks to transform both the content of sacramental worship as well as the meaning of "the Word" uttered from the pulpit. Just as it moves the work of reconciliation from the altar of sacrifice to the table of negotiation, so the roundtable shifts the meaning of "the Word" from the one-way commands of a single authority to a conversation among the many. In theological terms it takes seriously that "the Word," the "logos" of God, is constituted in a Trinitarian conversation represented by the whole assembly rather than simply in the Christ figure, represented in a clergy person.(3)

Our Roundtable Experience

These are some of the reasons why we gather at the roundtable in the way that we do. Now let me walk you through a typical gathering at our own roundtable to present things more concretely. Along the way I will give my own interpretation of these actions, though others at the table would want to enter a conversation about them as well!

Setting the table is a very important part of the gathering. When appropriate, a tablecloth is selected that dramatizes or highlights the anticipated focus of conversation. We often use a multi-pattern cloth to symbolize the variety of people and concerns that are coming to the table. A candle is always present to symbolize the search for a common light of wisdom to illuminate our conversation. Sometimes it is circled by barbed wire, as with the logo for Amnesty International, to symbolize the bondage and alienation oppressing people and other creatures of the earth. Some connection to the earth, whether by water, soil, or plants, almost always figures in the setting, reminding us of the ecological dimension to God's creative work and every human act. A feather, often used in Native American circles, usually lies on the table to remind us of the precious privilege and invitation to speak and to listen respectfully to the other. Breadstuff and drink, sometimes with other food, completes the setting.

Our speaking begins with a call to the table. We begin with words of invitation and response, as with Jesus' own parables of banquets (Luke 14:15-24; Matthew 22:1-14; cf. Proverbs 9:1-6). The call often reminds us of our alienation, brokenness, isolation, and fear as well as the goodness and the bounty waiting at God's welcome table.

The songs we use are simple and singable, with guitar accompaniment or a capella. We are committed to using language that truly invites all people to the table, regardless of all the divisions and categories of separation among us.(4) In doing this, we seek a language and symbols that express the holiness of a God beyond sex, gender and other human conventions. In keeping with the dynamics of roundtable reconciliation we often employ images of God's wisdom, love, patience, listening, and creative reconciliation. One of our biggest challenges is in employing the language of governance appropriate to the roundtable - such as democracy, constitution, republic, or covenant - without reducing God's coming creation to our own preconceptions of ultimate order, justice, and peace. In any event, we try to avoid speaking as if we were fifteenth century monarchists! Our language is always a struggle to hold together our human aspirations with God's amazing future.

Having accepted the call to the table, we move to an affirmation of God's goodness and care. We begin by remembering the divine work of reconciliation in the past. The events we recall, whether in biblical history or other events, stand forth as promissory intimations of the table dynamic of reconciliation as it might be present in this gathering. We then give thanks, the human acknowledgement of the goodness of God. We start here, not with God's omnipotent loftiness and our unworthiness, but simply with the beauty, sustenance, and creative kindness that in fact has sustained us to this day. Coming to the table is not an act of penitence, as it has been so often in Christian history, but a joyful response to the goodness of God's open invitation. The table is not the reward for worthiness dispensed to those who are in good standing, but an evocation of gratitude and a sense of humility that leads us to an exploration of how we can extend God's goodness in our life.(5)

The serving and sharing of food and drink is somewhat informal. We often talk as we eat about the meaning of this meal action on this particular evening, sometimes recalling stories, sometimes other associations in our minds from Scripture, literature, songs, or recent events. People are invited to continue eating and sipping throughout our subsequent conversation. It is in this synergy of nurture and conversation that we live into and live out the "Holy Communion" by which these acts have been identified in Christian history.

The conversation we then enter is introduced by a reading, usually from Scripture, to focus our thoughts. We have entertained and continue to keep open the possibility that dance, visual art, or some other presentation could also initiate our way into conversation, but our abilities have not yet extended that far. Each evening a conversation moderator introduces the focus and guides the conversation, sometimes using the feather to elicit remarks from everyone who wants to speak. Sometimes tears are evoked, as when we voiced lament for the sufferings of children, or when people gained the courage to share festering pains, as in an exploration of the church's struggle with sexual orientation. There is often laughter. The sharing of words in this context is more than a transmission of information; it is a form of commitment to each other that clarifies as it respects differences, while at the same time affirming common ground. It is in the conversation and our prayers that we often plumb the awareness that our own acts and the world we know do not reflect fully the goodness God has intended in creation.

Conversation at table requires that we sit in a circle facing one another. This produces a very different energy from the customary form of audience seating. This is not merely a matter of comfortable intimacy, but a sense of shared participation in a dynamic that emerges from our focus on the common table and all that it symbolizes. In facing the common table we also sense a mutual accountability and collaboration in a common work as well as in celebration.

The conversation leads to speech in prayer, essentially direct address to the God who creates and reconciles our world. It expands the conversation, not only by direct address to the Holy One who listens, but also by explicit reference to people, creatures, and conditions beyond our little circle. In prayer we expand our little circle to the great circle of the universe. For many of our members this action reflects a deep struggle to escape postures of childish request, magical solicitation, and "talking to the ceiling," as we probe more deeply into the conversation that participates in the healing of the world. The prayers lead into what we call the Hope Prayer, which is a fresh expression of the model prayer Jesus taught his disciples. We have modified it over time. Here is its current expression:

O Source of Life,
You alone are holy.
Come and govern us in perfect peace.
Give us today all the food that we need.
Release us from sin as we release our enemies.
Save us in the trials of judgment.
Liberate us all from evil powers.
For in you is our justice,
Our constitution, and our peace. AMEN.

We then conclude with some act of commitment that binds us into this hoped-for future. It is a time of covenant or re-covenanting, in which the work of reconciliation always has to eventuate and which sets the standard of accountability for the future. This culminates in a blessing which we speak or sing to one another, often accompanied by some ritual sign, such as in the "Indonesian handshake" taught to us by one of our members, in which we place our hand over our heart as well as in the hands of the other.

Findings and Challenges

What, then, have we found in this roundtable worship experience? What have we learned from these experiments? Some participants have said that the language and symbols we use at table open up a way out of an oppressive and stifling religious past. Other participants have discovered unexpected wisdom or perspectives in the conversation that enrich their lives. The conversation enables them both to bring concerns from their world to the table and take away some shared insight or commitment. For some, simply being in circle around the roundtable, with its evocative setting, leaves them with a new sense of depth or wholeness. They experience both a seriousness and a refreshing lightness at the same time, as they share burdens and joys.

The roundtable requires shared leadership that rotates among the participants according to their gifts and abilities. Different people lead the circle in liturgy, meal, conversation, prayer, and song. The worship focuses on what is symbolized by the table rather than on a particular leader. Similarly, what would usually be a statement by one person becomes a conversation among many. In all these ways, people are drawn from passivity to active participation.

Our exploration thus far has also posed at least five challenges. First is the question of size. While we have remained a small group, we ask ourselves how would a larger group still maintain the essentials of the roundtable experience? I think that the main change would be for the conversation to become a "representative" experience, in which a panel or dialogue would represent the conversation of the whole assembly. What would be crucial is that, through portable microphones or other means, the Word as dialogue would be preserved. In this sense, the televised town meeting offers a model. Worship, as a longing for the full realization of our ethical yearnings, would still point to a pattern of communication in which all participate.

The question of scale is also related to the question of where we should gather - in a "sacred space"? in a church? in a public building or store front? Since most (but not all!) of our churches are designed like shoeboxes or fans so that one person can speak to the many, it is difficult to find a sanctuary that echoes our commitment to circular process. However, it is clear that whatever space we meet in has to be hospitable to the spirituality that undergirds and emanates from the roundtable. Each roundtable group would have to resolve this significant challenge in its own way.

The second challenge remains that of developing a language and symbolism that moves us fully from the models of patriarchy, monarchy, and outmoded cosmologies to those of democratic participation dependent on the earth's delicate ecology in an expanding universe. We continue to experiment, as so many others do, with language, symbolism, and rituals that can meet this challenge within the context of our gathering at table.

The third challenge lies in the realization that this kind of worship requires not only group planning but also personal development and formation. Every form of worship requires some sort of training among the worshippers, even if it is to discipline them to silence and sitting. The roundtable form, like the exercise of citizenship in a democracy, requires training in self-expression, attentive listening, patient self-restraint, and the habit of reflecting on our actions. It requires a deeper knowledge of Scripture, Christian tradition, human wisdom, and awareness of what is going on in the world if one is to share in a way helpful to others. Every developed form of worship faces similar challenges, but we sense them more in recovering and developing this particular form.

The fourth challenge is to pursue and maintain the diversity that makes reconciliation and conversation both necessary and possible.(6) Not only do we face the challenge of forming people with the manners of this peculiar table, but of enabling people with diverse beliefs, backgrounds, opinions, perspectives, and experiences to come to the table. In our own world it is a daunting challenge to enable people to lay down their means of violence to come to the table of persuasion. In some ways it is no less a challenge to maintain the diversity that leads both to fearful violence and to mutual enrichment.

The fifth challenge is to address more effectively and creatively the connection between our symbolic actions of worship and our actual practices of reconciliation in the church and in wider publics. While our regular gatherings always take up specific issues and conflicts needing healing and reconciliation, the form of our worship makes it difficult for reconciliation to occur in specific ways in that setting. Such a process would probably exceed the time limits we have set for our worship gathering. In addition, the practical work of reconciliation in specific cases may well have more stringent rules of confidentiality and participation. Moreover, unless the conflict emerges from within the community gathered at the table, the worshipping group is usually not the same as the web of relationships in which our conflicts emerge. Thus, we have encountered a number of practical sources for the distinction between our symbolic actions of ordinary worship and the actual work of conflict transformation and reconciliation in specific cases.

Nevertheless, our worship gatherings are times when we lay down, like a deep bedrock, the foundations for reconciliation processes in our church and other churches as well as in our wider community. Through symbols and rituals, worship explicitly immerses us in the common waters from which spring the energies and patterns of reconciliation. It forms us as persons and groups. It shapes our dispositions, sensitivities, and habits of response. It provides scripts with which we move into the wider drama of our lives. Through the actions of worship, we link our own yearnings to the ultimate purposes of God. Worship presents the dramatic form at the core of reconciliation, even when it does not complete an actual healing encounter in a particular context of need.

Within our own wider congregation the roundtable has been a place where people have come to deal with actual issues of racism, conflicts over homosexuality, responses to hurricane disasters, evolution, and many other conflicts around us. Our gatherings have a ripple effect in the wider congregation. We are now engaged in seeking ways to carry this roundtable dynamic into the life of the church in more explicit ways, such as those described by Thomas Porter earlier in this volume. Within the church community, this kind of worship setting can function, we believe, to enable us to grapple with contentious issues that are too hot to handle from the pulpit or in traditional ways of meeting and decision-making.

Seeking to engage issues beyond the congregation, we have brought into our conversations local leaders in mediation work, in controversies embedded in racial discrimination, or in struggles for quality education for our children. We see their work as anchored deeply in the core dynamics of reconciliation rehearsed regularly in our worship gatherings. Knowing that their work is anchored in their own faith traditions can help strengthen and guide them. We are still struggling with ways to support them more directly, even though they operate in a milieu that is not explicitly religious. Our roundtable worship continually invites and urges us to find ways to extend the roundtable dynamic into the wider community.

In spite of these challenging gaps, the two activities of roundtable worship and of conflict transformation are deeply connected, because, we believe, they participate in the one reconciling work of the Creator of all. They are two inseparable though distinct dimensions of the reconciliation process. Worship is an energizing source, a grounding of our lives in the historical drama of reconciliation that takes place in specific contexts in a language of the place and people in conflict. The work of conflict transformation in specific situations stands at the heart of what the reconciliation rehearsed in worship is all about. Reconciliation in these particular contexts yields explicitly religious meanings, just as worship has a particular "address" at the doorstep of everyday life. The challenge we face is finding creative ways to relate them to each other more dynamically.
The roundtable is a struggling and delicate seedling in our midst, but it is also rooted in deep and ancient soils fed by biblical accounts, historical experience, and our contemporary yearnings for a world of democratic participation, reconciliation, and ecological responsibility. For it to become a tree that can give us shade, nurture, and protection we must continue in our husbandry. Perhaps, as the Book of Revelation says, it can become a "tree whose leaves are for the healing of the nations."

Notes

(1) See my book The Politics of Worship: Reconstructing the Language and Symbols of Worship (Cleveland: United Church Press, 1999). For additional pertinent perspectives see Tom F. Driver, The Magic of Ritual: Our Need for Liberating Rites that Transform Our Lives and Our Communities (San Francisco: Harper, 1991).

(2) For an extensive exploration of circle dynamics in this respect see Kay Pranis, Barry Stuart & Mark Wedge, Peacemaking Circles: From Crime to Community (St. Paul: Living Justice Press, 2003)

(3) For an expansion of this theme see Lucy Rose Atkinson, Sharing the Word: Preaching in the Roundtable Church (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 1997).

(4) Among the many contributions to this effort, see Ruth C. Duck, Gender and the Name of God: The Trinitarian Baptismal Formula (New York: Pilgrim, 1991); Gail Ramshaw, Reviving Sacred Speech: The Meaning of Liturgical Language (Akron: OSL Publications, 2000) and Brian Wren, What Language Shall I Borrow? God-Talk in Worship: A Male Response to Feminist Theology (New York: Crossroads, 1989).

(5) The shift in the meaning of the table from that of penitent self-sacrifice to that of fellowship with God and anticipation of God's future has been nurtured by many people. For a recent statement see, June Christine Goudey, The Feast of our Lives: Re-imaging Communion (Cleveland: Pilgrim Press, 2002).

(6) A number of theologians and worship leaders struggle with this issue in Brian Blount, and Leonora Tubbs Tisdale, ed. Making Room at the Table: An Invitation to Multicultural Worship (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 2001).

Questions for Reflection and Discussion

What drama of reconciliation is being presented in your current worship form and setting? How does it reflect the way conflicts are dealt with in your church and community? What drama of reconciliation might speak more deeply to your community?

Are there any places in your church life or community where roundtable dynamics are occurring? How might your worship expand and deepen them?