Sandwiches and Happy Chaos

The pragmatic part of me understands that a sandwich makes an excellent lunch--simple to prepare, no need to heat, the bread containing the stuffing so you can eat it easily and neatly. Blah blah blah Earl of Sandwich and gambling and whatnot.

I dared not unwrap the sandwich
for photo purposes, because it
is cruel to make y'all drool on
your keyboards.

Most of the sandwiches I enjoy, though, are gooey and overstuffed and require several steps and many napkins. 

Today's was the California Connection from Central Market, a slightly-fancy grocery store chain down here.  Turkey breast and provolone with a thick layer of caramelized onions, tomatoes, chipotle mayo, basil pesto, and salsa pesto. They carefully stack the ingredients on both slices of bread, put it through the oven open-faced, and then press the layers together. Oh my goodness, what a delicious mess! But it all comes together with a synergy that is so much more than you might expect from each ingredient taken on its own.

My theories on sandwiches, I will admit, sometimes bleed into other parts of my life. I've been accused of being something of a mistress of chaos.  But hey, it's generally a happy chaos.

Happy chaos is a wonderful part of community as well. Whether it's a Sunday school lesson or a worship service or a special event, I feel like sometimes we need to set aside a bit of our control, a bit of our assumptions, and let some magic happen. It might be a wide-open question that begs for wild participation. It might be belly-busting laughter or that vocal solo that makes everyone else's breath and hearts catch in their throats. It might be the child who takes an elder's hand and skips down the aisle, across the courtyard, and to the abundant snack table.

No, we shouldn't abandon safety policies and our goal is not total anarchy. We are just opening up new space for wonder, for joy, and for truths we need not work so hard to engineer.

What magic might happen?
I bet the mess will be worth it.