Coincidence in a Courtyard

My relationship with Cassie goes back to when we were both 17-years-old and in the 11th grade. At the time, I was taking a course with a bunch of seniors. So towards the end of the year, when the teacher let my classmates indulge in their senioritis, I got to walk around the courtyard outside the classroom. Coincidentally, for the second half of that school year, Cassie had a study period at the same time I had this class with the most relaxed teacher in existence.

How did she spend that time? Sitting out in the courtyard at a lunch table, reading, and eating a frosted brown sugar Pop-tart. Maybe you see where this is going.

I had never really talked to Cassie before this point in time. But one day, I walked by and simply said, “Hey.” I noticed she was eating a pop-tart, so I made a comment about it. Next thing I know, I’m sitting at this lunch table with the funniest, cutest girl I’d ever met.

I didn’t fall in love right away. I wasn’t particularly smitten, either. Though I will admit that I probably liked her at least a little bit. See, the more Cassie shared about herself, the more I realized that this girl was awesome… but definitely not my type. I wasn’t a Christian at the time. And I had fallen in with a crowd that was very much not Christian. So even if Cassie was wonderful to be around because of her jokes, her wit, her competitiveness, her athleticism, her beautiful voice, her adventurous spirit, her joy in life, and her taste in junk food, I knew a relationship with her would never work out. Not unless I cleaned up my act, which I really didn’t plan on doing.

Either way, I kept sitting down to that table with her over a pop-tart every other day. She just kinda floored me with her view on life. She had recently returned from a mission trip to Haiti and was absolutely in love with God. But she didn’t fit any of the stereotypes of “Christians” like I had known. She told me about her dreams of going back to Haiti. But then she would crack jokes about my stupid friends. She would talk about basketball, choir, classes, and music she liked, continually blowing me away with her dedication to doing everything as best she could (which was a foreign concept to me). Then she would tell me about the weird, crazy things she had done with her church friends.

Cassie gave off the vibe that everything she did had Jesus at the center of it—which I absolutely couldn’t relate to. But then everything she did was so full of joy and light that I wanted to be able to relate to her. At that lunch table she made me feel like I was a better person just for being around her. She made me want to be better, then showed me how just by sharing her life. While eating pop-tarts, she wound up being the first person to ever invite me to church.


A Half-Baked Dream

In the few months before she passed, Cassie repeatedly reminded me that she wanted to make homemade pop-tarts.  She got the idea from a shared video on Facebook. The video featured a food blogger showing how to make the things from scratch. The moment Cassie saw them being pulled out of the oven, she was hooked.

Unfortunately, it was one of those little things we never quite got around to. But just this week I got together with some friends to cook some up. I gathered together all the ingredients. Then they came over to make sure I didn’t totally screw it up, and to watch a Halloween flick while the goods baked in the oven.

We made brown sugar cinnamon pop-tarts, we made strawberry pop-tarts, and we made chocolate pop-tarts. Of course, we still didn’t really follow the recipe’s instructions (the chocolate ones came out a little janky tasting). Not that it mattered much. The cinnamon and strawberry tasted better than ones out of a box. And above all, we had a hella good time making them!


A Pop-Tart Kingdom

She most certainly didn’t do it intentionally, but Cassie made pop-tarts my gateway to Christ. Day after day, I would sit at that same lunch table with her. Just like Jesus with the pharisees, Jesus with the tax collectors, Jesus with the street-walkers, Jesus with the sinners, Cassie used that table to give me a glimpse into what his kingdom is like.

Scot McKnight put it this way:

Jesus’ table story: clean or unclean, you can eat with me and I will make you clean. Instead of his table requiring purity, his table creates purity. Jesus chose the table to be a place of grace. When the table becomes the place of grace… It heals, it envisions, and it hopes.

When chided by the Pharisees for eating at Matthew’s table, Jesus says, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick.” He heals them by inviting them to the table and dispensing grace though his presence and his words. In other words, at the table of Jesus other human beings found Abba’s love, and they find love of others.

When people sit at the table with Jesus, they are seeing and living a new society—the kingdom society of Jesus… and that means that the table is a boundary breaker and grace giver—a place where we can see what God can do when people are restored to fellowship with Abba. The table envisions because it is a door that opens and invites and includes.

….

Jesus table customs anticipate the Age to Come… In that Day, Jesus says, ethnic boundaries will no longer matter. At the Last Supper, Jesus tells his disciples that he will not eat with them again until he sits at the table with them again in the kingdom. These two statements by Jesus lead to this perception: sharing table with Jesus is a foretaste of the kingdom of God for each of us.

Scot McKnight, The Jesus Creed

Cassie couldn’t have given me a better picture of this. By inviting me to the table, she showed me what grace meant. By showing me how joyful a pure, God-loving life could be, she started me on the path towards healing for my conflicted soul. By being Jesus to me through the breaking of bread pop-tarts, she showed me what the kingdom of God ought to be like. And with all this, she gave me hope for something even better.

On this mountain the LORD Almighty will prepare a feast of rich food for all peoples, a banquet of aged wine—the best of meats and the finest of wines. On this mountain he will destroy the shroud that enfolds all peoples, the sheet that covers all nations; he will swallow up death forever. The Sovereign LORD will wipe away the tears from all faces; he will remove his people’s disgrace from all the earth. The LORD has spoken.

Isaiah 25

I don’t know if pop-tarts will make the menu at the heavenly wedding banquet of scripture. But it hardly matters whether there will be pastries or not. God promises that on that Day, we will be able to be happy again. On that Day, God will not only have conquered death, he will get rid of it once and for all. And on that Day, God will finally be able to wipe away every last tear. My hope is in that Day.

That is why I can embrace my sorrows and disappointments during this time of grieving. That’s why I have hope in these days without Cassie—because I know she still has the hope of an eternity ahead of her. And that is why I don’t worry about the tears falling from my eyes as I write this.

Cassie used tables and pop-tarts to extend healing, salvation, and hope to me.I pray my friends and I can continue to spread the same to the world around us. Lord knows we need it.