A Menu For Community

Not too long ago I asked ChatGPT to help me come up with a recipe using the random collection of ingredients in my fridge. My only prompt was give it a Mexican Asian twist.

​In seconds, it gave me a clever way to turn ground chicken, ginger, and peppers into a well stuffed tortillas.

 What a contrast to something that happened this week, when a new neighbor invited me over to learn how to make “real pizza dough.” And not just any old dough—it was his grandmother’s récipe from the old country. Not the kind written on paper in fading cursive. But one that had been passed down through hands and heart, like a sacred tradition.

Both moments fed me. One through the magic of digital guidance; the other through the inviting warmth of human connection.

 In many ways, this is the strange and sacred rhythm of Anamesa. Some of us gather in person each week—sitting side by side, sharing communion, passing the peace. Others tune in from across the country (or even the world), connecting through screens, group chats, and open hearts. One carries the weight of tradition passed down through the ages; the other invites us into the unfolding future of the church. Both are holy. Both are sacred.

I think what makes us unique and yet the same is how we hold both with grace. We honor each space. We value the quick chats and shared prayers online, just as we treasure the slow, moments face-to-face. And we keep finding ways to blend the ingredients we’ve been given—technology, tradition, presence, and prayer—into something that nourishes our community of love that we are building in the space between one another.