“Yet he gave a command to the skies above and opened the doors of the heavens; he rained down manna for the people to eat, he gave them the grain of heaven. Human beings ate the bread of angels; he sent them all the food they could eat.” Psalm 78:23-25
“Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with that person, and they with me.” Revelation 3:20
A few weeks ago, I read a devotional by Max Lucado called Uncommon Community. I loved the homey feel I got when reading it. It conjured memories of my own family’s dinner table both from the distant past and from more recent days. It also populated my mind with pictures of the dinner table I still hope to have with my husband and our family in the future. This devotion got me thinking about another future table I can’t wait to be a part of. God’s table in heaven.
In this snippet from Uncommon Community by Max Lucado, let’s envision the best, warmest, tastiest, and most welcoming table that we all desire to be a part of, where all our family is finally together and not one is missing and not one disagreement breaks out.
“Something holy happens around a dinner table that will never happen in a sanctuary. In a church auditorium you see the backs of heads. Around the table you see the expressions on faces. In the auditorium one person speaks; around the table everyone has a voice. Church services are on the clock. Around the table there is time to talk. Hospitality opens the door to uncommon community. It’s no accident that hospitality and hospital come from the same Latin word, for they both lead to the same result: healing. When you open your door to someone, you are sending this message: “You matter to me and to God.” You may think you are saying, ‘Come over for a visit. But what your guest hears is, ‘I’m worth the effort.’” (Max Lucado)
I love the feeling of being invited, being heard, and being seen. Around my parents table, the minutes slip by without care and we delve into the deepest of topics, the ones that make my spirit tingle with excitement, groan in despair, and reverberate with hope. Being around the table gives us an opportunity, after a long day of work, to commune together, to lock eyes, hold hands in prayer, and synchronize our spirits.
I ache and long for the day when God will dwell with us. Our home will be with Him physically. Adam and Eve strolled through the garden in the cool of the day with God Himself.
Jesus promises that He will dedicatedly fellowship with us over meals. I’m sure we will all be doing the involuntary happy dinner dance, but not only because of the food, but because we will dine with royalty. Think of “toiling” in a perfect new heaven and new earth with some kind of creative, God-inspired work where nothing will vex our soul, then going to eat with our king of kings, every day of eternity. Even after that fulfilling dinner, we have a mansion to rest and recoup in. Oh, how I long to lay my little eyes on perfect Jesus! What a table that will be my friends. What a table.
