#aplaceatthetable
If
life were a story of tables, I wonder where would yours start?
A
table of contents might be helpful, or a navigation table-chart.
In
the beginning was a white table-tray. A glutinous orange chair.
A
yellow dumper truck ferrying food, scattering green peas everywhere.
Then
there was a table with autumn rust leaves.
Plates
afloat with lamb chop boats in watery gravy seas.
A Christmasbirthdayanniversary,
everyday table for four;
A
table of strained solidarity, a table pre the divorce.
Grandma’s
formica-topped table always wore its Sunday best.
Pickled
cucumber and boiled eggs. Roasted ham and chicken legs.
On
this floury fifties altar to love and boiled fruit cake
I
did homework, finished jigsaws, ate my tea, learned how to bake.
Then,
suddenly, without warning, both table and Grandma were gone.
And
in terms of this table-tale… then there was none.
A
life without tables is very strange indeed;
Who
now were my people, what now was my creed?
The
thing about a table which isn’t always laid out clear
It’s
the centrifuge that draws us, the bond that keeps us near.
And
no place at the table means no place to belong
Others
may invite you but you somehow feel all wrong.
Fine
crockery and linen berate your lack of worth
You
really can’t sit there dear; the food here costs the earth.
So,
alone you sit, in silence, and eat your paltry fayre
Will
there ever be a table laid for me, spills out despair?
A
man once threw a party. The best food and finest wine.
But
his friends, engaged in both business and love, declined his offer to dine.
So
his servants scoured streets and alleyways and invited the blind and the lame.
And
they all found a place at his table, everyone seated the same.
And
all the food was paid for, through his love and gift of himself.
There
was no gratuity added, no need for position or wealth.
It
was here that I found myself seated, here I finally found myself home
Here
I found love and fellowship; no longer afraid or alone.
This
table belongs to Jesus. My God, king, brother, friend.
And
the table stretches both far and wide, with no beginning or end.
There
is space for you at the table. No matter your rags, wrong or blight.
He
will clothe you in richest garments, pour balm on your wounds and set right
All
your crooked and cracked, dusty pieces. All the bits you’re afraid to display
He
embraces each one whilst in darkness, and brings them into the warm light of
day.
So
come now, a little bit closer. Come now and sit for a time,
Receive
food of His love and belonging, the banquet of bread and of wine.
See
your name on his hands, stretched before you, there since the beginning of
time.
His
eyes say you’re known, loved and belong here
His
words say….
You’re
mine. You are mine.
J. Child
March 2019
Life can sometimes feel a bit like a series of
tables.
Some tables make us feel welcome and at home.
We sit and chat, eat the foods that we love; we
feel that we belong.
Others can make us feel nervous. Are we wearing
the right clothes? What do we do with all those different knives and forks?
What do we have to say to people like
these?
In the Bible Jesus tells the story of a
banquet.
A man invited his friends to a fine dinner but
they were too busy to come. Instead of cancelling the dinner he sends out his
servants to invite anyone and everyone from the streets and alleyways of the
city; the poor, the blind and the lame.
In telling this story, Jesus is saying that the
welcome of God is not just for those who are respectable; it is for every
single person, no matter how rich or poor or what issues they might have.
Because of this you need never feel that you
don’t belong at the table. God owns every table and he is always with you. He
has made you precious, unique and worthy. You belong wherever you choose to
sit.
If you don't know the welcome of God but would like to find out more, why not find an Alpha course near you and sit at a table of discovery.
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