A Bigger Table

If you are like many Americans, your table has recently gotten much smaller. Politics and elections tend to do that to us, especially as our world seems to get more and more partisan. Families and friendships tend to break up the deeper we get into the reds and the blues and even one simple comment can send someone stomping out the door. 

Kind of like Judas. 

(But I digress.)

When we think about the Upper Room, we think about Jesus and twelve other guys, which becomes eleven other guys when Judas takes off to betray Him to the religious elite. It is, we think, an intimate gathering of a small group of men who have spent most of the past three years together, know each other well, and basically get along decently. 

But we know from other stories in the Bible that 1) there were often more than just twelve men with Jesus and 2) that doesn't even count the crowds that followed Him everywhere He went. 

Now, picture it: Jesus is entering into Jerusalem. The crowds are putting palm leaves down on the road. Everyone knows He's coming into the city. It's a big deal. How do you suppose, then, that Jesus manages to slip away to a quiet space with just His twelve closest friends? And no women. And no stragglers. And no beggars. And no crowds. 

Either everyone gives up on Jesus all at once and walks away...or Jesus turns them away in what would be a completely uncharacteristic action on His part...or maybe everyone goes to spend the Passover with their own family, as would have been ritual. 

But that would still leave some widows, some orphans, some outcasts, some rejects...some folks who wouldn't have had anywhere else to go. Do you think Jesus turned them away?

I think the Table was bigger than we imagine it. I think there were more than thirteen men in that room. I think there were women and children and non-disciples and followers and servants and a whole host of other persons. I think Peter's wife was there. Children, too, if he had them. (Remember when Jesus healed Peter's mother-in-law? Peter was married, friends. Do you honestly believe he's not spending the Passover with his wife?) 

And the twelve may have gotten along fairly decently, but there's a certain law of numbers that says that the more factors you involve, the greater the risk for conflict. I'm telling you - not everyone in that room was a friend to everyone else. 

There were whispers. And rumors. And sideways glances. And comments made under the breath. And this one won't associate with that one and neither will that one associate with that other one. There were stories from the past and comments that ruffled feathers. There were human beings in that room. How many? More than thirteen, but who can say for sure? 

The thing is, the Table is bigger than we think it is. And that's the way that Jesus wants it. He doesn't have a problem getting a bunch of folks together in an intimate, small space. He's not afraid of the human issues that will arise there. It doesn't deter Him to think that they might...*gasp*...disagree with one another. 

He sees folks who want to come, who want to be part of things, who are earnest in heart, and He makes the Table big enough for all of them. 

We could learn a lot from Him. 

In this season in which so many of our tables have gotten smaller, what would it mean if we took this moment, this Table...and made them just a little bit bigger? 

It's a good place to start, with the blood and the bread that brings life.