2.25.2026

James Taylor loves me.

Back in September,  I did something I've done less than a handful of times in my life. I went to a concert.  A non- religious. non-classical concert. And during the concert, someone shouted out: “We love you!” And James stopped and in a very sincere way responded with, “I love you, too.” 

If you go to a JT concert, it’s obvious he loves what he does and he loves his audience. And there’s nothing better than hearing James Taylor singing “You’ve Got a Friend” live (at 76, his voice has aged much better than many of his contemporaries). Before he sang it, he gave us the backstory. 

Back in 1970, Taylor wrote “Fire and Rain,” a reflection on his emotional pain and recovery from his own struggles with addiction and the unexpected death of a close friend. After the song’s release, another close friend and fellow musician, Carole King (“It’s Too Late,” “I Feel the Earth Move”), listened to “Fire and Rain,” and one particular line stood out to her: “I’ve seen lonely times when I could not find a friend.” In response, Carole  sat down at the piano and wrote, “You just call out my name and you know wherever I am, I’ll come running . . . You’ve got a friend.”

James told us that as soon as he heard it, he grabbed his guitar and played it over and over that night until he learned it . . . not realizing that he’d be playing it every day for the rest of his life! 

That human, caring “you’ve got a friend” connection is so vitally important to us! The comforting knowledge that we’re loved and cared for is one of the major reasons for the early church’s growth.  

When Chrisitiany began to spread, there was nowhere else where slaves, orphans, unmarried women, sick people, poor people, people of different races and classes would be welcomed and loved. 

And nowhere else was it better illustrated than at the table. 

Today, we come together, sit in rows and I talk at you and Dorene or Kerri sings at you, but that all started in the 4th century. Before that, Christians typically gathered around a table for worship. Christians met in one of the believer’s homes in a room that could seat maybe 30 to 40 people at most. There would almost always be a meal that would be shared. Those that had plenty brought more so that those that didn’t have anything could eat.

This was at a time when there was very little privacy. Houses were joined together. Doors and windows were open to the street and people often freely wandered in and out of homes (can you imagine?). The barriers that kept people separated were things like class, religion, nationality, and gender – and these were far stronger than any locked door! 

But this new community busted down all those barriers. Imagine the stir in a neighborhood when the people next-door began hosting a hodge-podge of wealthy friends, slaves, and foreigners, along with a bunch of ragtag orphaned children running around.

And they all ate together! 

And not only that, but when you threw your sick granny out into the street because you weren’t sure what she had and you didn’t want to catch it, your neighbor took granny in and nursed her until she either got better or died. And if she got better, she probably stayed living with them!

This new friendship, this new family, that gathered around a table for fellowship on a weekly basis was unlike anything that existed in the world at that time.

And the neighbors noticed. And the city leaders noticed. And Rome noticed. 

I run into people all the time, especially in this area, who believe that Christians should not eat in the same space they worship. It’s a complete misunderstanding of first Corinthians 11:34, where Paul writes, “If you are hungry, eat at home, so that when you come together, it will not be for your condemnation.” They will, as my dad used to say, rear up on their hind legs and bleat, “You’re not supposed to eat at church! Paul says that if you’re hungry, eat at home!”

They’re totally ignoring the previous verse, 11:33, “when you come together to eat, wait for one another.” The problem wasn’t with the eating, the problem was the people weren’t sharing with one another and would bring only enough for themselves and gobble it down before the slaves or the other poor people arrived. And so, the slaves and the poor people would have nothing to eat.

In the early church, the gathering began with a meal; there would have been scripture reading, singing, prayers, the leader or pastor of the church would bring a message, there would probably be a discussion, and then, from the bread that Don baked and the wine that, say Kerri or some other member of the church brought, the pastor would take the elements and would consecrate them for communion. And together, as a unified body, this diverse group of people would give thanks.

This Sunday, we’re worshipping old-style. Real traditional worship. 

We’ll worship around the tables. There, at our table, we’ll share in communion (it’ll be Don’s bread but Welch’s juice) and afterwards we’ll eat together. The church is providing the food (fried chicken and the fixings!), so no one needs to bring anything. And during the meal, the church council will talk about what we’ve been up to and how we’re doing. 

It’s a family thing. I hope you’re planning to be there! I wouldn’t miss it!

Blessings,
Pastor Terry