On any given day in Kansas City, you’ll find churches serving meals to neighbors experiencing homelessness. Big portions, big smiles, kids handing out cookies. It looks like community. It feels like doing good.
But there’s a table in the middle of it all. And for a long time, I didn’t realize what that table was doing.
I used to volunteer at these meals and make a quiet personal decision: I wouldn’t eat the food. My reasoning felt solid — I can afford to buy my own lunch. What I didn’t see was that I had placed myself firmly on one side of that table. Not just physically. In my heart.
When I finally sat with that, I had to admit something uncomfortable: I was worried about being perceived as needy. That fear — that bias — was louder than my desire to actually be in community with the people I was there to serve.
Naming it changed everything.
The table that’s supposed to bring people together can quietly become a wall. And the only way to take it down is to notice it’s there.
What would it look like to eat with the people we’re feeding? To sit down, share a meal, and just be neighbors? It sounds small. But that one shift turns a 2-hour serve event into something that actually looks like the Kingdom of God.
At Resurrection, we believe missions isn’t about being someone’s hero. It’s about fellowship. Showing up not above, but alongside.
The table is still there. But we’re learning to sit on the same side of it.
Learn more about our Hunger Ministries here.
