I Fell In Love With A Table

This is the story of how I fell in love with a table…

From growing up in the church, there are two things I remember about communion:

1) I remember it passing me by because I was too young, apparently. So I watched my parents receive. I could smell the grape juice on their breath when they would whisper something to me afterwards. I didn’t understand why I wasn’t included – because I knew that I was included in every other meal my family had.

2) When I was “old enough” to receive, we had another pastor at that time. What I remember was how this pastor seemed bored with communion and in a hurry to get on with the real show. He said the same exact lines every time at the speed of an auctioneer.

Twenty years later, I have been in ministry my entire adult life. Communion was something we did, but it felt kind of foreign, awkward, and even at times like a nuisance.

I would hear my pastors say things like, “Where can we fit communion in?” and “Let’s bump it this month, we have too many other things going on in our services.”

Now, as a lead pastor myself, I was wrestling with these conflicting emotions…

I knew that communion should be deeply important, significant, and meaningful. But I was also struggling to feel passionate about it. Something just wasn’t clicking for me, and I knew it. Maybe it was because I had only seen communion done at church in a hurried, “We gotta get this done so we can move on,” kind-of way, or the super-sad and somber, “Be scared, because if you have some hidden sin and you receive communion today, you might keel over and die” approach.

This tension set me on a journey of discovery. I was determined to find what I had been missing in communion.

So I read. And listened. I even prayed about it too.

About two years ago, a pastor I had been enjoying listening to, and who came from a similar church background as I did, was talking a lot about communion. In fact, he seemed obsessed with it. He used this invitation in his church before communion was served:

This meal didn’t originate with the church, but it came from the Lord.

It is ready for those who love Him, and for those who want to love Him more.

So know that you are invited, you who have much faith and you who have little. You who have been here often and you who have not been here long. You who have tried to follow and you who have failed.

Receive, because it is the Lord who invites you. It is His will that those who want Him should meet Him here.

Then I came across a video of Rev. Michael Curry talking about communion (Eucharist in his tradition). I cried when I watched the video. Then I used in our church and cried again each time it was played.

There is something so beautiful about this table that we gather at, receiving the bread and cup together.

Jesus said, “Come unto me all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.”

That is the invitation: Come. Receive. All you. All Y’all.

It is His table, not ours. But He invites. There is a place at His table for us all.

Recently, a blogger criticized Rachel Held Evans for sharing her doubts publicly. In his critique, he issued a “Farewell” to her (from Christianity, I assume). She replied in the comment section of his post, saying…

“You can’t ‘farewell’ me from the Table because it’s not your Table. It’s not your denomination’s Table. It’s not Calvin’s Table. It’s not my Table. It’s Christ’s Table, and all who are hungry are welcome.”

To this I shout “Amen!”

Something has happened to me. I’m not sure exactly when or why – but somewhere in the past two years while on my quest to find beauty and significance and a love for communion, I fell in love with a table.

Maybe the fresh made, pan-fried, and lightly-salted communion bread helped. Maybe it was looking out at my diverse congregation – seeing the young and old, the rich and poor, the black and white, all receiving together from His table…

Whatever the various reasons, I have fallen in love with a table – and I hope you will too.

And The Table Will Be Wide by Jan Richardson

And the table will be wide.
And the welcome
will be wide.
And the arms
will open wide
to gather us in.
And our hearts
will open wide
to receive.

And we will come
as children who trust
there is enough.
And we will come
unhindered and free.
And our aching
will be met
with bread.
And our sorrow
will be met
with wine.

And we will open our hands
to the feast
without shame.
And we will turn
toward each other
without fear.
And we will give up
our appetite
for despair.
And we will taste
and know
of delight.

And we will become bread
for a hungering world.
And we will become drink
for those who thirst.
And the blessed
will become the blessing.
And everywhere
will be the feast.

 

I am a husband, father, pastor, leader & reader. I love God, love people & love life.

8 Comments to I Fell In Love With A Table

  1. I can’t help but cry each time I read the story of the crucifixion from my bible. Likewise, the same emotions come when we as a church participate together in communion.
    To think of all He has done for us, to truly reflect on the truth that we are ALL welcome to join Him at the table, despite our faults, our insecurities, our scars… It truly is a beautiful thing.
    I am so thankful for that table.
    Thanks for writing this one PB.

  2. Brian,
    I’ve been on a similar journey. I too listened to that sermon series (I’m assuming it was from Renovatus Church.) I’m thankful that I now attend a church that at least sets aside a specific time for communion, and that we do it together. I dislike the trend to make communion an individual thing done during a set of worship songs. To me, it’s a bit like eating dinner in front of the TV, or getting a plate and taking it to your room instead of sitting down with the family. Communion is a family event. The table is a place of intimacy and connection. When we invite someone to sit down and share a meal with us, we are inviting them into our hearts – into relationship. I wonder what would happen if we took the Table more seriously and approached it with more reverence and intention. I love the table too and I long for it to be restored to the place of importance it deserves.

    • Could not agree more with your analogy of eating dinner in front of the T.V. If there had been T.V. in Jesus’ time I am certain he would have shut it off before sitting down for the last supper.

  3. Dp this in remembrance of me. A gracious invitation to a simple ritual that I think was always intended to bring us to a place of openness and beauty. His beautiful table. Thank you for a wonderful post.

    PS: We can be thankful for blog trolls – lurking under the table – for the way they provoke such eloquent responses.

  4. In my shy search for the true character of God I feel that nothing has brought me closer than the invitation to the table.

    I want nothing more than to be bread and drink to the world. But I can’t. I feel like my heart is so arid. And tired. Nowhere I look I can find reprieve.

    I don’t have true invitations anymore. It feels more like a commitment to go or people’s feelings will be hurt.

    I want to be inviting to people and make them glad. In this desire I feel like I am finding my way back to God.

    • Karelys – I feel what you’re saying. I have often felt a sense of disappointment when hosting a party or offering hospitality to others… because I imagine the joy everyone will experience to be much greater than what it actually is. I always think “This was supposed to be more fun.”

      I think I’m becoming aware that I have work to do – on/in me. I have too many reservations, too many voices in my head holding me back from being truly open and honest and giving. It’s pride or doubt or both. I don’t want to look like a fool. I don’t want to fail. I don’t want to be misunderstood. etc. etc.

      I hope to become more free. Less self-absorbed and more present for others.

      Today I ran across this video. It features Tom Sine (a Seattle area guy I have read about). I love the message: “We need to party harder.” I hope I will learn how…

      http://www.theworkofthepeople.com/blog/learn-to-party-harder

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