Left to Write: The Table
11-30-2006
by Brenten Gilbert

Red, Yellow, Black and White... We're all getting down tonight.
Robert Randolph and the Family Band - "Ain't Nothing Wrong With That"

... I don’t see my brokenness anymore when I’m seated at the table of the Lord...
Leeland - "Carried to the Table"

As the year continues to unravel, it's now well into November, a month that I've grown to love because the chill begins to take hold of the air around us and the leaves hold onto their last ounce of color as the world prepares for winter. (Hey, I actually like snow and cold weather.) Clearly though, for most Americans, the highlight of November is that wonderful little holiday known as Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving is, for those of us not working in retail or similarly grueling jobs, a built-in four-day weekend every year to celebrate, eat a lot of food, and spend time with our family. Traditionally, we take some time during the festivities to ponder all the things in life that we are thankful for (hence the naming convention). And there is football, yes, there is football to be watched (and/or parades depending on your interests).

Historically, in the US, Thanksgiving dates back to the 1620s when the Pilgrims celebrated their successful harvest with a feast that included the Native Americans from nearby villages. (This celebration wasn't exactly a new idea, since they were accustomed to holding an annual harvest festival due to their English heritage). What was monumental, however, was that the feast was inclusive of the Natives since the two groups were standoffish at best. The Pilgrims and the Native Americans had begun to get along, but they were obviously two societies separated by race, fear, a lack of trust and a communication barrier. This feast, this shared community, was a great step forward for what would become America, (granted, it was relatively short-lived).

Feasts are pretty big deals, by the way. In the Bible, in the Jewish tradition, eating and feasting was an integral part of one's religious practice. It's no coincidence that Passover, Yom Kippur, Rosh Hashanah and most of the other Jewish holidays are observed by feasting or fasting or fasting and feasting. In fact, in that culture the dining room table was often referred to as an altar. Worship, sacrifice and celebration all came together with the members of the banquet party at the table.

Eating, then, became a very intimate and spiritual experience. As such, the axiom, "You are what you eat" may not have been nearly as applicable as "You are who you eat with." In the grand human tradition of turning everything into a symbol of status or worth, feasting became a social barometer in the sense that only certain people were deemed worthy of being seated at one's table. Which is why, when Jesus was ministering on earth, it was such a scandalous event when the tax collectors, sinners, and prostitutes were allowed to dine with the Master, causing religious leaders to grumble in protest.

On one such occasion, Jesus apparently decided to really get under their skin by telling a story of "The Great Banquet" (Luke 14:15-24). While dining at a Pharisee's house, Jesus offered a few introductory bits of advice about feasting (appetizers, if you will) before He launched into the main parable, which tells of "a certain man" who had difficulty filling up his banquet hall.

After many invited guests managed to find excuses to avoid the feast, the man's servant invited anyone who was willing to share in the feast - "the poor, the crippled, the blind and the lame." The story mentions that the goal was to fill up the banquet hall so that there would be no room for those who had been previously invited to join when it was more convenient for them.

We've been invited to eat at this great banquet, but it seems that we've been ignoring the call. What's our excuse? Are we too busy? Are we too caught up in our pursuits? Are the trappings of life more appealing than sharing a meal with our Lord? Are we waiting for a more convenient time? Are there other people there with whom we refuse to commune? Do we feel unworthy?

Whatever the excuse, it's not good enough to prevent us from sharing in this joyous celebration. As happy and excited and relieved as the Pilgrims may have been during America's first Thanksgiving, I suspect that it was nothing in comparison to Heaven's first Thanksgiving. Will you be there at the table?

Thanks for your time.

- bdg.