Carried to the Table of the Lord
By James Pruch
July 2, 2007
There is song that I have grown to love, just in the last week. It’s by a band called Leeland and the song is titled, “Carried to the Table.” It is lyrically and musically beautiful. How the chords mesh with the words make it a sweet melody of artistic excellence and spiritual vibrancy. It is serene, refreshing, gentle, encouraging, and reflective. This is a song that causes me to genuinely close my eyes, smile, envision God at the head of his table, and dwell on the His majesty. Psalm 34:8 comes to mind each time I listen to this song: “Taste and see that the LORD is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in him.”
I don’t see my brokenness anymore when I’m seated at the table of the Lord.
What does it mean to be seated at God’s table? More than that, what does it mean for us, in the practical sense of who sits at our table? There are many passages in Scripture that give us insight to what this might look like, not only for ourselves in our personal walks with God, but how that intertwines in our relationship with others. As we look at this song, God’s Word will help us unpack this idea.
Let’s focus first on that line of the song above. “And I don’t see my brokenness anymore.” Why is there no brokenness at God’s table? Why do we find ourselves free of guilt, shame, embarrassment and any other thought or emotion that is associated with brokenness? Why is there complete acceptance in a place where we know that we have no business being?
The most frequent image we may have of God’s table is that of Communion or the Lord’s Supper. This event in the Bible is always associated with a “table” of some sorts-whether physically or figuratively. Nonetheless, it is a beautiful depiction of sitting at the table of Jesus. What is the point of the Lord’s Supper? It is simply to be reminded of Christ’s sacrifice on the cross to atone for our sin. In the song, Leeland asks, “Am I good enough to share this cup?” The question is rhetorical. Of course not-for we will never be good enough in any sense. Isaiah 64:6 says, “All our righteous deeds have become like a polluted garment.” Our greatest righteousness as humans is nothing compared to the great, perfect, glorified Jesus. Paul wrote in 1 Corinthians 11:24-25 what Jesus commanded during that Passover meal: “This is my body…this is my blood…Do this in remembrance of me.” When we come to Jesus’ table, first we remember his sacrifice on Calvary. As Jesus marched up that hill, he carried a heavy cross, filled with the sins of the world. “You carried me, my God, you carried me,” the song ends. Jesus certainly carried us up that hill, on that cross, as we should have been the guilty persons nailed to the tree.
You have probably taken time during a church service, while Communion is being given, to refocus on what Jesus’ death actually accomplished. At the moment of his death, Jesus changed everything. He had conquered sin and purchased salvation for those who would believe. With his resurrection, he had overturned death, become the mighty victor over a sinful world, and removed the power of hell over his children. He secured his triumphal future return as a conquering General ready to rule his territory. Leeland sings that we were “Summoned by the King into the Master’s courts; lifted by the Savior and cradled in His arms.” Christ accomplished our salvation on the cross. Isaiah 40:11 shows this so eloquently. “He will gather the lambs in his arms; he will carry them close to his heart.” One of the most intimate things Jesus ever said, I believe, was a heartfelt cry of compassion to his people. “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem…How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you would not!” Jesus, the God-man, is broken over Israel’s hatred and spite for their Savior. He so desired to carry them to his table, but they were hardened. They cared not for God’s love.
We are blessed that Jesus continually brings his children to his table. He calls our name and carries us. “For I know my sheep and my sheep know me,” Jesus said. He carries us weak and wounded sinners to his table, reminding us of his sacrifice on the cross of shame and sorrows. “For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly” (Romans 5:6). Jesus reminds us that in our weakness, our depression, our depravity, our wretchedness, our filthiness, we are his enemies. But despite that, he died for his enemies, and we have been justified by faith and now we have peace with God.
Jesus said in Revelation 3:20, “If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.” Again, this paints the picture of us seated with Christ, at the table, enjoying God’s delight in his Son’s perfect sacrifice. In that sacrifice, we are rid of brokenness and welcome at the table. We are able to partake of the victory over sin.
That is the point of the Lord’s Supper. There is no more sin in a believer’s life-it has been paid for (Isaiah 52:13-15). There is no more weakness-God’s strength is perfected in it (2 Corinthians 12:9). There is no more brokenness-it has been bound up (Isaiah 30:26).
When we are seated at God’s table, what impact does that have on our relationships with other people? With our friends? With our enemies? The more we are seated at the table of the Lord, obviously the more we will become like Jesus. I heard a pastor once say, “When you become like Jesus, you lose the right to reject anyone.”
So, I ask: Who sits at your table?
In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus presents his followers with a new teaching. “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matthew 5:43). This teaching of Jesus was revolutionary, unthinkable, even disgusting to some of the teachers of the law. Jesus even ended this section of his sermon with, “You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” Perfection is the standard that God demands of the world. Perfection is what it takes to be seated at the Table. Because of Christ’s death, God sees that perfection; hence we are blinded from brokenness when we have Jesus, because we are completely whole as he carries us along.
How does this apply to being in the presence of Jesus, at his table?
In Luke 14:12-14, Jesus gives a parable about a banquet. When you give a banquet, Jesus said, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind and you will be blessed. These people are completely incapable of paying a host back. They are in debt, bankrupt, homeless, diseased, and brokenhearted. In essence, they are not the host’s friends. In Jesus’ day, these people were considered enemies.
David understood what this meant. In Psalm 23, David exclaims, “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.” This is an intimate, personal, cherished moment for David as he sits with the Lord in the presence of his enemies. In other words, the enemies are of no concern and no repute when he is in God’s presence. For, we are all but dust (103:4) and we have all fallen short of God’s glory (Romans 3:23). Do we have a right to treat people poorly because they are unreligious, unspiritual, or different than we are? Everyone in this world is evil. Everyone has a sin problem. We are all in the same boat and the boat is sinking fast with the weight of our wicked deeds. Yet, all of us show partiality and make enemies.
One more Scripture shows us what it means to invite everyone to our table. James 2:1-13 says it is a sin to show partiality. “Listen, my beloved brothers, has not God chosen those who are poor in the world to be rich in faith and heirs of the kingdom, which he has promised to those who love him?” Before this, James says that we should not pay attention to the man wearing nice clothes and say, “You sit here in a good place” and then to the poor man, “You stand over there.” The word “stand” indicates that this poor man is not even welcome to sit at the table. He isn’t good enough. He has accomplished as much. He is an outcast.
Who does Jesus turn away? Has anyone ever come to Jesus and been rejected? Has Jesus ever said, “You, go stand over there-you are not invited”? Why do we do this, all the time?
Fighting thoughts of fear, and wondering why He called my name. Am I good enough to share this cup? This world has left me lame.
So many people sing that verse every day of their lives. Some of you reading this may repeat the line, “The world has left me lame.” There are millions crying that out right now. Millions who could be seated at God’s table, if we would just be the hands and feet of Jesus. Millions, if we would sit down with sinners-the tax collectors, the whores, the liars, and the thieves. Millions, if we would have compassion on the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind.
If we would realize our frame and see that we are carried to the table of the Lord, how much more should we share that invitation with others who ache for love, compassion, and freedom?
You carried me, my Lord, you carried me. You carried me, my Lord, you carried me.
