"Jesus was always too busy being faithful to worry about success. I'm not opposed to success; I just think we should accept it only if it is a by-product of our fidelity. If our primary concern is results, we will choose to work only with those who give us good ones." -Fr. Gregory Boyle, Tattoos on the Heart
"One of the dinner guests, on hearing this, said to him, 'Blessed is anyone who will eat bread in the kingdom of God!'" -Luke 14:15
I often joke that my favorite thing about Jesus is how much he eats. He is always eating with people. And what's more? When he describes the kingdom of God, he tells stories about how it's like a banquet feast more than once. Heaven is like a feast? If it's anything like a Cici's buffet or a Waffle House All Star Special, I'm interested.
Jesus's feasts aren't like most other feasts though. Big family meals look a little different around Jesus' table.
There's a great story Jesus tells about a meal that is like the Kingdom of God. A master sends out lots of invitations to his friends. So far, it sounds just like any party I've ever heard of.
But an odd thing happens. When the day of the banquet comes, no one shows up. Oh, you know, important things came up for all of them. They got better offers. (Sounds kinda like 2016 with the old, "Umm, maybe I'll be there.") So the big meal was prepared, but there was no one to enjoy the spread!
Well, apparently God is not one to let a meal go to waste. Instead of cancelling the party, the host sends his messengers out to gather anyone they can find, the drunk at the bar, the prostitute on the corner, the kinda weird dude who just lingers too long. You get the idea. And they celebrate big time! The left behinds become the VIPs.
The great thing about this story is that it's really how Jesus lived. Remember, he was always eating. Well, he ate with everyone. He ate with his disciples (who were not exactly a who's who of Judea). He ate with tax collectors (who were not exactly the most popular among... anyone). He ate with Pharisees (who were not exactly struggling for attention and arrogance). Heck, at his last meal, it appears Jesus put Judas (who wasn't exactly the #1 disciple) at the PLACE OF HONOR. He ate with everyone.
When Jesus described the Kingdom of God as a feast, it must've looked a lot like a normal Tuesday dinner for Jesus.
Every Sunday in worship I take communion. I dip the bread into the cup and experience participating in this feast of Jesus' body and blood. It connects me to the life and death and resurrection of Jesus. But I'll be honest, sometimes it's a little stale. No, not the bread. But the meal. Sometimes it feels like it should be bigger somehow.
Earlier tonight, I got a chance to experience a meal like Jesus talks about.
When you work at a church like mine, sometimes some out-of-the-ordinary things happen. We have a service that meets at a bar across from Saint Louis University for worship on Sunday nights. (Yes, you heard me right.) I go about once a month, and this week I went.
I was pretty tired and not totally invested, and the spot I'd found in the back of the patio was plenty inviting. But someone asked if I'd mind sitting towards the front. To be honest, I was sitting in the back thinking I might jet out a little early, and sitting in the front would really hurt my chances being sneaky. But apparently there was man up front who'd had one (or five) too many drinks, and in case something got out of hand, I might be able to help redirect.
Well, as the band opened I took my seat on the front row and introduced myself to my new companion for the night. The smell of alcohol was pungent. He was singing louder and sloppier than anyone else in the joint. And I started getting a little nervous for the sermon to come.
I'll admit: at first, I wasn't thrilled with my assignment. This guy was a disruption, not to mention a hinderance to my sneaking out the back.
But sit together we did. And as we sat there with Matt preaching, there wasn't a more engaged listener. (Nor was there a noisier listener.) And minute by minute I realized that Nick (not his real name) was not the simple disruption I'd pegged him for. I'd gotten so caught up in things going right that I missed the pleasure of his company at the table.
When we moved to communion, Nick was the first in line. It occurred to me that this was the closest I'd come to experiencing the feast Jesus talked about. Of course Nick was first in line! As far as I could tell, if anyone there had an invitation to the table it was him.
Nick didn't look like me. He didn't smell particularly great. I couldn't understand every word he said through the slurring. His presence wasn't the most convenient. But when the service was over, I gave Nick a big bear hug and thanked him for letting me worship with him. We walked over to the side and talked for another 15 minutes and he told me about his 7 siblings and his parents and his job and how he needed to be in church more and about how he grilled his ribs and chicken and shrimp. (And it sounded GOOD!)
I wanted to soak in every part of his story. I wanted to hear everything he had to tell me. It finally hit me that I was in the presence of an honored guest and that perhaps I was simply just another invitee. I discovered that maybe, in that moment at the table, I was seeing the Kingdom of God in its fullest in a new way with the guy the host had been waiting for.
If there's not room at our tables for everyone, I wonder if Jesus would want to join our party. If we get too caught up in doing the right things with the right kinds of people in the right ways, I wonder if our parties will always be a little bit lackluster and stale. If our meals only include people like us, I wonder if we've had this heaven thing wrong all along.
It occurs to me that most of my meals are shared with people that look and act and think like me. My tables don't look much like Jesus'. I think I've missed out on the party. Thankfully, Nick was gracious enough to save me a seat at the table tonight.
forever unfinished...
