Sunday Tables

About a month and a half ago my dad called and asked me if I would write some thoughts about the Lord's Supper. If you know my dad then you know that he likes to push boundaries. I asked what he wanted it for and he told me that he had started thinking during worship what one of his "sister" in the faith would say given the opportunity. After procrastinating several weeks, this is what I sat down and composed:

Sunday Tables

Fried Chicken, laughter, Roast, amazement, potatoes, joy, vegetables, togetherness, homemade rolls, relationships. These words evoke special memories of gathering around a common table after church on Sundays with family. In my own family it was my grandparents table. The table itself may not be anything special, but the memories that have occurred around it make it priceless. The nicks and scars in the wood give the table character. Tables have given us moments of triumph and seasons of sorrow and allowed for a common experience.

As a child we gathered at my grandparents table often on Sundays for lunch and time with family. It was a time that we caught up with one another and shared with one another. We excitedly told stories and recalled memories. Stories brought laughter and tears. We shared both a meal and our lives together.

I imagine the disciples had a lot of memories about the tables where they had dined throughout the years. I wonder when they realized that their most special memories would be of the meals they shared together. I can hear them reminiscing with one another, “Remember that time when we were on the hillside and Jesus turned that boy’s lunch into a feast for everyone. And what about the Pharisees unbelief when they found out where Jesus was having dinner ... they were outraged! And then there was that night in the upper room when we enjoyed dinner and fellowship with Jesus and he gave us parting words. What incredible experiences!Jesus demonstrated many times that the table he communed at had no regard for social status, economic prosperity, race or level of education. At His table there is neither Jew nor Greek, male nor female, slave nor free, for we are all one in Christ. He has prepared the table before us this morning full of mercy and grace.

Without even realizing it, the gospel was being shown to me at my grandparents table. We communed together, young and old, without any regard for who brought what food. Often others we were welcomed at the table with us. We worshipped the Risen savior as we broke bread together. We celebrated renewed life and lamented our sorrows. We shared as the body of Christ. These memories give me a glimpse of the meal that Jesus had with the disciples.

Jesus demonstrated that community is important and that it is difficult to journey these roads alone. Together as a family we gather around this table just as you will shortly gather around the lunch table. Some of us will be in a celebratory mood and some will be lamenting. Either way, at this table there is room for everyone. Welcome to the table of the Lord.


A few weeks later I was home for my sister's graduation and had the opportunity to go back to my home church with my parents. My dad had asked if he could give the table talk that Sunday. Mom and I were very nervous about how he would handle it, but I couldn't have been more proud. He got up and shared that he had been wondering what one of his sisters in the faith would share given the opportunity. He commented that he didn't wonder very long before he went and asked and he wanted to share what she wrote. He proceeded to read it.

I really hadn't expected to feel anything knowing he was reading my thoughts, but I was surprised. In those moments I felt honored that I could participate in worship that morning and give a word that was diffferent than we normally hear. I felt validated in my abilities to think and write in a way that could edify the church body. Suddenly, it was as if my gifts were being used in the corporate setting. It was a new experience and one that made me feel things that I can't quite put words too.

I grew from that experience and am so thankful for my dad and his wonderings. He gave me the gift of participating and experiencing alongside him.