“All you guys who want in the picture
need to get on this side of the table!”
Those were the last words that Jesus spoke at the Last Supper . . . at
least that is what I have been telling folks in the congregations that I have
served over the years . . . I think they are beginning to believe me . . . or
at least believe in the concept.
Growing up as a kid the table was
pretty much the central piece of furniture in our home. It was the one place where the family
gathered each day and actually were together.
Around the table conversation was passed just as frequently as the
food. Around the table stories were told
. . . questions were answered . . . jokes were shared . . . and, there was
laughter and good times. It was around
the table that our family gathered to check in with one another, listen to one
another, and support one another. The
table was the central meeting place in the family where affirmed and confirmed
one another in mutual love. Often the
conversation and fellowship were greater than the actual meals in sustaining us
for another day.
When company came over it was around
the table that everyone gathered . . . whether for a meal or for coffee. It was a place of solitude and solace for
those who entered into our home. Just
like the family it was a place of sharing stories . . . making confessions . .
. popping off a few jokes and sarcastic remarks . . . the sharing of laughter
and tears. It was a place where comfort
was found in the company and in the sharing of the hospitality of a simple meal
or treat. Around that table friends and
family were affirmed with honest and open acceptance . . . not that everything
was okay and without conflict . . . but acceptance without condition.
Having moved on from the family table,
the wife and I have come to realize that the table is the most important piece
of furniture in our home. Now, my
recliner comes in a close second, but I am constantly having to throw one dog
or the other out of it before I can even sit down in it. I would throw in the throne in the library as
pretty close to second . . . but, like the recliner, it is a place of solitude
. . . the humble abode of an introvert. And,
as much as I love the recliner and the commode (now if they would make a
reclining commode, the table might be knocked off of its lofty pedestal) . . .
it does not bring into life what I find around the table. Both the wife and I know that it is around
the table that family and friends gather . . . it is around the table that the
fellowship is welcomed . . . around the table that the love is expressed and
felt . . . around the table that we celebrate our bond.
Now the wife—being the extreme
extrovert that she is—likes to entertain.
She likes to use her whole house to entertain in . . . especially the
living room. Yet, despite her best
efforts when family and friends are over, everyone still gathers around the
table. She could put all the
refreshments and food in the living room, and everyone would still end up
around the table. It just seems everyone
is more comfortable and relaxed around the table. As much as she still fights it, she still
enjoys having everyone around the table.
The only problem is that the table is beginning to get too small.
I never imagined that when we bought
our table that it would ever get too small.
Shoot! It expands out to infinity
and beyond! Well, maybe not to infinity,
but it sure feels like it when we pull it out to its full length. When completely out the table seats about ten
people. The problem is that we are up to
nine people around the table now with number ten due any day now . . . and,
that is immediate family! Yet, we are
squeezing ourselves around the table . . . bumping elbows . . . and, having a
great time. Those times when the whole
family is gathered around the table are some of the happiest moments in my
life.
Happiest moments because I enjoy the
fellowship of those who are gathered around the table. I love to hear the teasing and laughter. I love to listen to the intimate conversations
. . . the sharing of stories . . . the remembrance of bygone days . . . and,
more laughter. I enjoy the chatter of
the granddaughter talking non-stop and everyone attempting to interpret what
she is saying. I even enjoy the two dogs
trolling around the table . . . especially around the daughter and
granddaughter because they seem to have that innate ability to know who the
sloppiest eaters are.
Around the table I feel a wholeness .
. . a wholeness that might only last for a short while of being a family before
we disperse and go our separate ways. Around
the table I feel the barriers drop as family and friends open up that protected
and special place within themselves that they protect with a vengeance . . .
when they allow themselves to come out and play for a while. Around the table I enjoy the fact that not
only we are sharing food that sustains us, but that we are also sharing
nourishment that sustains the soul. Around
the table there is wholeness, but there is also holiness.
I joke with my congregation about the
last words that Jesus spoke at the Last Supper, but I truly believe that Jesus
wants us all to gather around the table.
I think that the table was a central piece of the message Jesus was
attempting to share. In the denomination
that I serve—the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)—the table is central to
what we believe as followers of Jesus.
We believe that we should never gather without coming to the table . . .
to breaking the bread and lifting the cup . . . to fellowshipping around the
table. Thus it is that we have the Lord’s
Supper each and every Sunday. If we
shorten up the service to save time we will get rid of everything in the
service except the Lord’s Supper. That
is how important we find the table. So,
why wouldn’t Jesus make such a statement to those who were gathered with him in
that upper room? It is at the table . .
. when all are gathered . . . that we have the opportunity to experience a
little slice of God’s kingdom.
Research has revealed that the most
important things in people’s lives are the biggest objects in their lives . . .
they stand over everything else. For
some folks it is the 60-inch television . . . but for me, it is the table. The table is the biggest piece of furniture
we own. It is the one piece of furniture
that gets used each and every day. You
can take my television, but you can never take away my table. It is a place of wholeness with family and
friends . . . and, it is a place of holiness.
This past Father’s Day we gathered around
the table. All the seats were filled,
but at the same time we acknowledged those in the family who were unable to be
there because we missed them terribly . . . but the seats were filled. The stories flew . . . being the center of
the celebration, I endured the brunt of the kidding . . . it was noisy . . . it
was loud. There was lots of
laughter. And, there was a whole lot of
love. A holy love. Around our family table we feel love and
loved whether it is in our home or in the sanctuary of where any of us
worship. I truly think it is as close to
the kingdom of God as we can ever get while living on this rock we call home.
In our house, the table is open to
all. All are welcome. So it goes in the churches I have served over
the years . . . all are welcome. Even if
only for a few minutes, the kingdom of God is embraced. The table is a table of love, but more
importantly it is a table of hope . . . hope of what could be. Yeah, I know, you’ll argue with me about
whether or not Jesus actually said those words.
And, I know that they do not show up in anyone’s Bibles in red letters .
. . but, I am pretty certain that if Jesus didn’t actually say it . . . he
would have.
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