Blessings at meals… Richard learns…

Richard always made a concerted effort to be a good witness to the Gospel, and the Church Universal and to his Legion of Invisible Witnesses (whoever the book of Hebrews was referring to) and the angels and archangels, whenever he was in public.

I might be the only Bible someone ever reads was a thought that often went through his mind and I’ll be God with skin on was another. Both these exhortations he remembered from a sermon his pastor preached proclaiming that everyone in the congregation, no exceptions, “From myself,” the pastor said, “down to the lowliest of janitors. I want you to be God with skin on wherever you go.”

It was in submission to his spiritual superiors, even though it was sometimes a source of embarrassment to some, that Richard always closed his eyes, held the hands of whomever he was sharing a meal, and prayed out loud, very specifically that God bless the food and bless the very hands that prepared it and in the very name of Jesus. Richard held firmly to the belief that you could never know who was watching and you’d never know the possible consequence of a display of gratitude in a public place with the rampant onslaught of secularism that was visibly overtaking the very nation.

It was rare for Richard to eat alone as meals were always a chance and a very Biblical way to witness, but one day he grabbed a quick meal at a fast food outlet near his office. While unwrapping his burger he decided to be particularly bold and to pray for the food out loud even though he was dining alone.

“Almighty God,” he began.

“Yes, Richard, You called my name,” said God.

“Well, I was just about to ask you to bless this food and to bless the hands that prepared it and to ….”

“Bless? Richard. What exactly do you mean by that? Would you like me to reduce the fat content so it won’t clog your arteries, or would you like me to do a little divine angioplasty while you are eating? Bless? I mean look at it, Richard. You are doing the dietary equivalent of a free-fall off a high-rise and asking me to ‘bless’ your fall.”

“I get it, God. I think. Could you at least, then, bless the hands that prepared it?”

“That’s up to you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Blessing the staff is up to you. That’s what I mean. Go up to the counter and bless the woman who served you. Take out your wallet and give her all the money you have. There. That will bless her.”

“God, You know sometimes you can….”

“Yes. I know Richard. I can be so awfully practical, so downright unspiritual. So ……”