Table Manners

Jesus uses three stories to teach us about life in and around His kingdom. I call it “Table Manners,” since all three stories have to do with a formal dinner.

I recall an old poem that went something like this: “Mabel, Mabel, bred and able, get your elbows off the table.” “Bred” refers to training. A “well-bred” person has been taught manners and decorum. An “ill-bred” person has not. Those who will fill the kingdom are being fitted for the kingdom. Am I? Are you?

The first story has to do with the behavior of those invited (Luke 14:7-11). They come into the room, prepared and beautiful, and they must decide how to situate themselves. Which table will get their food first? Can we go and sneak something off the dessert table before the best stuff is gone? Where are the best seats? Jesus would train us to attend such a dinner, not as a collection of barnyard animals, but as a company of the redeemed, willing to honor others, even at the risk of sacrifice to ourselves.

The second story (Luke 14:12-14) has to do with making up the guest list. Hey, this is going to be a classy event. We need to invite classy people. Plus, it is going to cost us a great deal. Let’s invite people who can at least bring a nice gift, or who may one day throw a party to which  they will no doubt invite us. But no, in the kingdom, we find that it is often the lowly who are invited, and entrance is not based on what a potential guest can contribute. 

The final dinner story in this trilogy (Luke 14:15-24) features unheeded invitations. Many are invited. Few show interest. Those who are first invited come up with a bushel of excuses. They are willing to trade common experiences for the high honor of attending the king’s banquet. Others are invited, and yet there is room. The king orders his servant to “compel” others to come. He wants his house to be full. 

Perhaps you have received an invitation to which you were to respond with your intention to attend. Perhaps you forgot. You showed up, and your name wasn’t on the list. Or worse, perhaps you said you would attend, but then, with place reserved and dinner provided, you didn’t show up. There sat your name on the table, but no participation, a loss of honor for you, but also a bit of a smear on the host. 

Too bad your mother didn’t teach you any table manners.

We Need Each Other

Our culture celebrates individuality. We are drawn to the guy or girl who pulls him/herself up by their own bootstraps. But there is usually more to the story, and God designed for us to work together. He created us in such a way that we need each other.

Psalm 145 demonstrates this need. I have been reflecting on psalms, looking for patterns of how we (individuals) engage with God. This psalm says that we don’t do it alone. We need each other. 

We need generations. The younger need to learn from the older, and the older certainly need the freshness and inspiration of the younger. Churches that continually segment the congregation by age work against this biblical principle.

We need testimony. We need to hear the stories that people tell, of how they got in trouble, and then how God them out of trouble. We need to hear what they learned about God during trials, that God always comes through, oftentimes just in the nick of time. 

We need to hear Scripture from one another, quoting those foundational verses that anchor our faith in something deeper and wiser than our own intuitions or trendy notions. All of these things happen in planned and unplanned settings, as believers fellowship and relate on a spiritual level with one another.

We need to challenge one another to share God’s glory and grace, not only in our own circle, but outside that circle as well, with those who do not know God or the Gospel. We are not called to judge them or to correct them, but to”make know to the sons of men Your mighty acts and the glory of the majesty of Your kingdom. They need to know.

We need each other to remind each other that this is not a human operation, but a divine one, and that any growth in grace, any victory, is due to Him, not us.

We need to pray with each other, to bend knee and bow head in this most counter-cultural of activities in which we “call upon” the Lord. As we see in the verses, it is the common activity of those who fear Him; of all who love Him. Our goal, as we all work together, all of us, is that “all flesh will bless His holy name forever and ever.”

We need each other. Let’s work together.

Early Check-Out

We’ve stayed in hotel/motels a number of times. On several occasions we have asked for a late checkout. I don’t recall ever asking for an early one. 

You might want to stay late for any number of reasons. Maybe you have somewhere to go in the morning, and then want to come back and clean up or change clothes before checking out. Maybe you just want to sleep in a bit and avoid the long line at the waffle maker. 

I have a harder time justifying an early checkout. If the room (or the neighbors) are objectionable, one might choose to leave the hotel, but with a full refund in hand - not an early checkout. In fact, even if you have to leave for the airport and 3 a.m., you just get up and go (no waffle). There’s no early checkout. 

But in the past couple of weeks, we’ve seen a number of early checkouts, not from motels, but from life. We prayed for the family for whom I conducted a funeral for their 26-year-old son. We have read about the fashion accessories lady whose name will now outlive her life. And there is the chef/world traveler, who by all accounts, was the nicest guy you could hope to meet - he also took an early checkout. In fact, all of these, and so many more that we remember, were delightful people in so many ways. With some, there may have been indications of trouble, but with others, this was a surprise.

Early checkouts seem to indicate that, for the individual involved, they believe that the darkness of the night will only get darker, and that morning will never come. The pain of the moment will persist, and the hope of peace is too faint to, well, hope for. Those who would help have been found to be not near enough helpful, and the loneliness of this decision is made alone, solely for oneself, as though others were unaffected. 

What is lost in the early checkout is the chance to see a sunrise so beautiful that it would make the darkness worth it; to meet a person so gracious that it would make one almost forget the pain; to meet one so fascinating that you are more taken up with that person than with self. “Well, that’s unlikely to happen,” you might say. In response, consider that it is rendered impossible by the early checkout. 

And further, many have come to know Jesus, and have found in Him that darkness-destroying sunrise; the One with grace so contagious that it penetrates and heals; that One so interesting that you would not want to waste a single day of getting to know Him better.

He Waits

On a plane of equals, one expects consideration. One expects courtesy. It is not one’s place to put to the test; to try one’s patience; to prolong one’s suffering. 

But we operate not on a plane of equals. We engage with God, and with His Son, Jesus. And that engagement is not between mere mortals. As God, His wisdom is of a different order. He has designs that are lost on us, though they may be designed for us. Our judgments concerning considerations and courtesies carry no weight. And so we should not be surprised, when He waits. 

John 20 shows Mary to be the first to arrive at the tomb where Jesus had been buried on that Sunday morn. This Mary, the one from whom Jesus had cast out the demons. This Mary, who loved Jesus much, for she had been forgiven much, from much delivered. And so she was first, to honor the life of Jesus by honoring him in his burial. It was early, still dark. But she had not slept all night, or the night before, fearful and fitful at the departure of her Lord. He, the holder of her hopes and dreams, her forgiveness and freedom - now dead, stolen away by hatred and unbelief. 

But it would be a difficult task, seeking to anoint his body through tear-filled eyes and grief-stricken soul. We do not know for sure, but even as she arrived, we suspect that the gardener watched. 

Mary enters the tomb and finds it empty. She runs, tells the disciples, and they come running. They stoop to enter the empty tomb, and then off they go, to tell the others that Jesus is missing. It seems quite possible that the gardener, unnoticed, stands and observes. 

Mary remains. She came as the undertaker. She has departed as a messenger. She now returns, and she is at a loss, heartbroken. She looks in the tomb and speaks with .. angels? But does she even know that they are angels? “Why are you weeping?” She cannot comprehend. 

Then she notices the gardener. Perhaps he knows. “If you have carried him away ...” And then he says, “Mary.” He reveals himself. Her eyes are opened. 

Why did Jesus wait so long? Why not reveal himself early, right away, and spare her the grief, the confusion? We do not know. But he waited until just the right time, that her discovery might be mature, complete. And perhaps that is why he waits in your case as well. 

Lonely Bird

Our world is filled with troubled souls. The troubles come with many shapes and names, but certainly you know a number who are tormented. Psalm 102 is the testimony of one of these.

The personal lament of this psalmist extends, beginning at verse three, through nine verses. He uses vivid language, speaking of “a pelican of the wilderness,” far from his watery home; “an owl in waste places,” away from his forested home; and then this, “like a lonely bird on a housetop,” isolated and alone.

One mistake that troubled souls tend to make is that they do not read far enough. While the lament is long, the psalm goes on for another sixteen verses, offering perspective and hope. Paul Harvey had that radio spot in which he would recall a familiar story, and then provide more information, ending it all with, “and now you know “The Rest of the Story.” We need to see the whole picture, the rest of the story, rather than thinking that what we sense in the moment is all that there is, and all that is going to be. 

You may also notice that I began with verse three. Troubled souls are in trouble if they neglect the first two verses: “Hear my prayer, O LORD! .. Do not hide Your face from me in the day of my distress; .. answer me quickly.” Perhaps we skip these verses because we do not believe anyone is listening. We do not know that God is there, and that He cares. Perhaps there is just some deep-rooted stubbornness in us that keeps us from reaching out to the One whose mercy is deep enough to reach us in the depths, and wide enough to grab hold of that lonely bird on a housetop.

Over in the New Testament, Hebrews 12:2 we are invited to consider “Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame.” See, he knew the rest of the story. That the present was dreadful, but the future would be glorious. And so we are later encouraged to “not grow weary and lose heart.” We are to follow him on that path, in that pattern.

Some troubled souls are difficult to deal with. They may be up and then down, pleasant and then perturbed. They may feel like we don’t understand, and, we probably don’t. Most of us are like drivers on the freeway, where we want the other drivers to be predictable. And troubled souls can be erratic. We regard them as dangerous. But Jesus, the one who knows both the Beginning and the End, is able to hold on to us and bring us home, safely; able to save us from our own troubled souls.