The Creativity of the Table
Wednesday, July 15, 2026
written by Rev. Leah Quarles
At my previous church, one of our church elders often referred to what he called “the wisdom of the table.” The idea being that those gathered around the session table each contained wisdom and experience that God brought to this table—to the discussions, challenges, and plans ahead. I loved that. For one, it reminded me that I did not have to nor was expected (especially as one person in my 20’s!) to be the expert on all things related to running a church. It also reinforced why we have elders in the first place—that God calls and equips all types of people to lead God’s church.
Yesterday I thought of this saying, but in a different light. After church on Sunday, about 50 of us gathered around circular tables in Fellowship Hall. Our purpose was to create clay crosses that will be handed out to visitors and new members at the church. The amazing thing was witnessing how differently each cross was created. Some people used shells, while others used molds to roll designs into. Still others took it another step and began adding layers, dimensions, and even words to their designs.
As I watched everyone work, the phrase shifted in my mind: we weren’t just experiencing the wisdom of the table; we were witnessing the creativity of the table.
Every person brought their unique perspective to a simple piece of clay. A child pressed a single shell into the center with unhurried simplicity. An artistically inclined member carefully carved intricate, layered geometric patterns. A visitor invited just for this event gently pressed words of hope directly into the clay. Out of the exact same raw material, fifty distinct expressions of faith emerged.
This beautiful, messy process is a living picture of how God shapes the Church. The Apostle Paul famously wrote about the body of Christ having many different parts, each with its own vital function. Sitting in Fellowship Hall, surrounded by the mess of orange-brown clay and the chatter of multi-generational voices, that theological truth became tangible.
God does not call us to be cookie-cutter Christians. The Holy Spirit takes the raw material of our lives—our varied backgrounds, unique personalities, specific heartbreaks, and joyful triumphs—and molds something entirely original. Just like those crosses, our individual faith journeys look vastly different from one another. Yet, when we bring them all together, they tell a much bigger, more beautiful story about the expansiveness of God’s grace.
If every cross had been pressed from the exact same plastic mold, the project would have been efficient, but it would have missed the point entirely. The true beauty of the body of Christ lies in our diversity. Soon, these clay crosses will be fired, glazed, and placed into the hands of visitors and new members. When a guest receives one, they won't just get a souvenir; they will receive a physical piece of our communal life. They will hold a tangible reminder that there is a place for their unique shape, their distinct story, and their specific gifts at this table.
Whether we are discerning the future of the church around a session table or getting clay under our fingernails in the Fellowship Hall, God is constantly gathering us. We are a people beautifully formed, collectively wise, and wildly creative. I can’t wait to see who God brings to the table next.