Sunday's at the station

There are very few things in life that equate to Sunday's at the fire station.

 I became a firefighter in 1997, but my father was one long before that. One of my fondest memories is being invited to the table where he and the other firefighters were having a meal. I'm not sure of the other details of this meeting, but I remember a plate being placed on the corner for me, the cook ripping a length of brown paper towel from a fat roll, insisting that I partake. 

I remember the jovial camaraderie, the delicious food.... And the feeling of warmth and family.

When I became a firefighter, the memory of that moment stuck with me. Out of hundreds of experiences, countless memories and stories, the thing that most exemplified our brotherhood was this one brief memory. I would spend the next 17 years trying to duplicate this moment, not for myself, but for my brothers and sisters- Fire, L.E., or EMS.

 EVERY Sunday that I've been at work, and able, I've prepared Sunday Breakfast for anyone who cared to stop by the station. I am not alone in this. If you were an invisible observer of almost any given fire station on a Sunday, you'd see this identical scenario playing out. 

I'm a firefighter, not a rocket surgeon. I have no idea WHERE this originated, or even why, but it's there regardless. Don't believe me ? Stop by a station on a Sunday, just after "Changeover", and see if you don't find yourself pulling up a chair to a crowded table, a steaming hot breakfast filling your plate-- whether you want to eat it or not. 

To me, it's beautiful.

I may not know why it happens, but I take great comfort in finding it's example in the New Testament, and given by none other than the Master himself. In the two greatest examples of teaching recorded, Jesus first made the crowds sit down in the grass, and before saying a single word to propagate his kingdom, he fed them. 

There is one better example though. 

After Christ has been crucified, the disciples, unsure of themselves, have followed Peter on fishing trip. 

He knows their confusion, and knows they need direction. So he shows up on the beach. In his final physical act on this Earth, He cooks them a meal. How awesome is that? (John 21)

His final moments (physically) here, are spent feeding these guys he truly loved. 

A short time later, he gives the direction they need. He asks Peter a simple question: "Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me?" When Peter says yes, Christ gives him this reply: "Feed my lambs." 

Christ asks this question 3 times in total. The last two times, he gives this reply: "Feed my sheep."

Some may find the lesson I take from this a little trite. I find it simple myself, but I am often amazed at how beautiful, straightforward, and right the "simple" things are. 

So why did Christ make the extraordinary effort of communicating this message ?

Could it truly be that everything he wanted us to do is as simple as the concern we display when we take from our abundance, and look after the needs of our neighbors? 

I think it just might be.

So I challenge you. 

If you don't believe me, try this experiment. Feed someone. Preferably someone that can't do anything for you. If you buy them something to eat, then sit and eat with them. 

I bet that if you're really paying attention, in those moments of sharing food, you'll feel a kinship with that person... And with their Creator.