I broke bread to sop every last drop of gravy and roast beef drippings on my plate.
Two free entrées highlighted the meal, roast beef and chicken casserole. The Friday’s Easter menu also listed these items at no additional charge: gravy, mashed potatoes, rolls, macaroni and cheese, and the cream corn my daughter made.
The featured dessert? Honey Bun cake. A decadent delight swirled with brown sugar and cinnamon, topped with the perfect glazed icing.
Take Your Seat
Time to be seated. Our grandson, Foster, placed at the head of the table as an onlooker. A feast fit for a king laid before us. And we didn’t disappoint. Second helpings became the sport of the day. We each held our own—our eyes not much bigger than our stomachs—not this day. I sopped the last morsels of my meal.
Sopping holds various connotations. It denotes completely wet or soaked. Like when your mom’s vexed you fell in the creek, “You’re sopping wet!” The term also describes a piece of bread used to soak up a liquid when eating.
Sopping at its finest involves the last bit of soup, gravy, or sauce so that none goes to waste. You sop and clean your dish in the same motion.
The exact determination of when I learned how to sop is unknown. Maybe, it’s a southern thing. Recollection of the real McCoy came from my hometown of Big Stone Gap, nestled in the Appalachian Mountains of Virginia. If my memory serves me well, my fellow townsmen and women knew how to sop.
It was the best of times. I sopped the juice from my mom’s lasagna at dinner. The sloppy-joe bun sopped up the leftover drippings on my school lunch tray.
Sop: Unashamed and Bold
One of my favorite places to sop is at Red Lobster Restaurant—garlic cheddar biscuits in my Shrimp Scampi sauce. Sopping my grilled cheese sandwich in tomato soup comes in as a close second.
We southerners shine at sopping and I’ve met a few northerners who will give us a run for our money. I can sop with the best of them. Privately in my own home, in public, or social venues. The setting doesn’t matter. Unashamed and bold. If you sop . . . you sop. It’s that simple.
Jesus and the disciples broke bread together days before the crucifixion. It was the best of times that would soon turn to the worst of times. The bread a symbol of His broken body and the wine of His blood spilled out.
Wrecked by fear upon His arrest, these close friends scattered, some ashamed to admit knowing Him. After the resurrection, Jesus appeared to the disciples while they reclined at the table (see Mark 16:14). Proving there wasn’t a hoax. It was real. He was real. And alive.
It’s time to take our seats at the table and break bread in heavenly places. The King has laid a feast before us.
† “. . . I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry again. Whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.” (John 6:35, NLT.)
All items are free: grace, unconditional love, atonement, and salvation. No additional charges for second helpings of forgiveness, mercy or spiritual blessings. Sopping is encouraged here. So, go ahead, soak up every morsel at King Jesus’ table.
Share the featured items as you fellowship with others. The setting doesn’t matter—privately, in public, or social venues. If my memory serves me well, we are admonished to remember the Lord’s supper in His broken body and bloodshed.
And we’re commissioned to go and make disciples. Unashamed and bold. The hungry are waiting.
Note: Find out more about Big Stone Gap, VA. (The book, Big Stone Gap, by bestselling hometown author, Adriana Trigiani, was made into a movie and filmed in the community.)
© 2016 by Karen Friday, All rights reserved
March 31, 2016 at 9:47 am | Uncategorized