There’s More Room.
I sometimes think about Thanksgiving and Christmas, full of whimsy and extravagant regalia. I think about laughing with family, catching up with old friends, and sharing a table with the ones I love most.
I come from a rather sizable family, with 14 cousins and 2 brothers. My mother is one of three, and my dad, one of five. On a holiday gathering, the guest list would be no less than 43 people. What an extravagant way to spend the holidays, and an extravagant party to have. The problem is, with 43 people, we don’t have enough forks, knives, and plates to go around, much less, enough seats at our table. My dinner table holds 6, so our guests spread out and find a seat wherever they can. On the foldable chairs, benches, couches, and the patio. What often happens is that the second generation of Moll-Serrano’s, the so-called youth, are dispelled to what is commonly known as “the kid’s table.” On average, the youth of the Moll-Serrano family is well into their twenties and well above drinking age. Although no longer “kids”, the concept remains- there are not enough seats at the table.
Well, what if we had a bigger table? A table big enough could never fit into our small Florida townhouse, even if it stretched wall to wall in our dining room.
Even in the grandest of settings, the Whitehouse table can only fit 140 guests, and the late Queen of England’s table can fit 150. Although extravagant in scale, his is still not even enough to fit the average number of guests at a wedding.
Now what would happen when the table gets full? Someone will feel excluded. Outcasted from the feast. Unworthy, even. Even shortening the guest list at our tables would leave people out of the scope of our love and inclusion.
So it is with our spiritual lives.
In our hearts and souls, we have limited capacity at our tables. The average person knows 600 people. Out of those 600 people, a person can only acquaint himself with about 100, and out of those hundred, he can only have an inner circle of three to five.
We as human beings have a limited capacity to love, listen, and share the burdens of the ones we love. Even those with the spiritual gifts of love, inclusion, mercy, and comfort will not be able to care for the hearts of their Church family, much less all of their brothers and sisters in Christ.
The result: very often, people get missed. Whether slipping through the cracks of the welcome team at church on a Sunday morning or being excluded from the post-church lunch, so many people are often excluded or looked over despite our grandest efforts to expand our tables. Though the thought of exclusion might be haunting or traumatic to some, our kind and merciful Father offers us hope:
He has made room at His table.
For YOU, He has made room at His table.
See, the thing about the almighty God in heaven is that He is not just creator God or sustainer God, He is the Lord- Yahweh. He gave himself this personal name so that His people through Abraham could call Him as Father, not just as King.
And so it is with us. For the Jews, and the Gentiles grafted into the vine of God’s people, God made a way for all to call Him by His personal name. He bent low to hear His creation cry out, and responded in mercy.
God the Father so loved the world that He sent His one and only begotten son into this world to save us from our own sin and depravity so that we might be in union with Him. He sent Jesus as a carpenter to build a table big enough for all of His creation and raised him from the dead so that he could sit at the head of this very table, being the one who can invite all who choose to come.
He invites all of us. He hopes that we come, taste, see, and celebrate.
It began as a table for 3, turned into a table for 13, and now, through the abundance of bread and wine poured out by the perfect Son of God, the table extends to the ends of the earth, from one side of heaven to another, right in the throne room of the King Himself.
Praise the Lord for a seat at the table.
For further reading: