The Gift Sacred Community

I have been privileged in my life to be part of a remarkably open, loving group of people. It began in the fall of 1996, during my senior year of high school. After a Friday night football game, my friend Andrew invited me to a local restaurant called Moneer’s.

“Moneer” was the good ol’ boy Southern pronunciation of Munir Accawi. Munir had brought his family and his cooking from Lebanon to Alabama in the 1970s, establishing a 24-hour open-air patio restaurant serving Mediterranean delicacies to the hungry folks of Homewood.

Walking into the courtyard that warm fall night, I was entirely unprepared for what I encountered: nearly forty teenagers from my high school and neighboring schools gathered together. They weren’t divided into cliques; they were one cohesive group, genuinely enjoying each other’s company. I decided right then that I was coming back.

Over the next four years, I spent more time at Moneer’s than I did at home. The people I met there became the fabric of my daily life. Together, we shared life’s milestones and navigated daily rhythms. We stood together at college graduations, engagement parties, weddings, and funerals. We laughed, cried, dated, and weathered breakups side-by-side

Moneer’s closed around 2000, and our group has since scattered across the country. Yet, we still regularly talk and see each other every chance we get. Why? Because we shared a deep, rich, full community.

We came incredibly close to nailing the Gospel concept of community. This ideal is anchored in Scripture, such as John 15:9: “As the Father has loved Me so have I loved you, now remain in My love.” The core of this message is the comparison between God’s love for us and the standard by which we are instructed to love others. God is saying, “You’ve seen how I loved you, now go out and love others the same way.” That first night at Moneer’s, I felt both seen and valued. My friends felt the same way. It is impossible to experience that and not want to pass it on, so we did.

In Hebrews chapter twelve, we are told that Jesus endured the cross for the joy that was set before Him. We are His reward, the very motivation for everything He did. He endured perfect obedience and a horrific death on the cross willingly, with an eye toward securing us for Himself. We, who naturally run from holiness, are loved deeply and in spite of ourselves.

In 2024, I learned that one of my friends from Moneer’s had lost his wife to alcoholism at the age of 42. He had relocated to Indiana and we had lost touch, but I found a way to reach him. We have been talking ever since. These have not been easy conversations. There have been several nights that I have spent an hour or more on the phone with him making space for his pain. But I answer the call every time. Because he has answered the call for me time and time again.

God looks at us and says, “I chose not to live without you.” That is the blueprint for how we are called to love one another. And that’s what I got to experience at Moneer’s.