Come to the Table

"You prepare a table before me..." Psalm 23

As the Thanksgiving table is cleared, it may take us by surprise.

But it's already time.

To make room.

To come hungry and longing.

To come to the table.

"Come to the table."

What tone do you hear in those words?

A gentle voice, beckoning?

A forceful command?

A firm reminder to self?

"Come to the table."

Maybe if sobremesa was served, we'd all be more willing.

Sobremesa, or "over the table" in Spanish, refers to the tradition

of chatting around the table after a meal in comfortable connection and company.

Sobremesa is the desire to both partake and linger longer,

to savor the communion born of a shared meal,

to feel the nourishment of table-time beyond the meal itself.

Maybe sobremesa sounds foreign to us.

Because it's fair to say that our associations around food, eating, tables and members

may have left us feeling unsatisfied, unfulfilled, or undone.

Yet...

Tables are made to connect us.

Which tables welcome you into connection and community?

Tables are made to give us choice to slide in, or to scoot back.

Which are your tables of caution or difficult conversation?

Tables may come in creative and curious forms.

Which tables hold uncertainty or tension for you?

Truly, tables hold a promise:

somehow, the shared space of a table forever changes us.

Three years ago, I sat at a table (a carpet on a hotel floor).

This "table" held caution, difficult conversation (different languages), and uncertainty.

Yet those around the table (children and adults) held hope for connection and community.

As cardamom tea was served, the new immigrant family of seven surveyed us.

My friends and I surveyed them.

Sipping, smiling, stuttering...none of us knew what to expect.

But we were meeting to partner together as a stance of solidarity:

"We welcome one another. We agree to do life together."

Today, this family (now of eight!) is one that my friends and I call family.

Countless tea-times, feasts, celebrations, hardships, language barriers, laughter and tears continue...

and we cannot imagine life without each other.

Is this what is possible "over the table?"

That strangers - or the estranged - can become committed - or recommitted - in relationship?

That challenging conversations can lead to connection?

That a table holds the possibility of communion beyond what we can imagine?

In both life and recovery, we can learn that tables have purpose.

They are anchors for rhythms of rest and restoration,

spaces for vital renourishment, and

opportunities for relishing and rejoicing.

So what would keep us from the invitation?

Our own experience, thoughts or conditions may draw us toward or away from the table.

Our tables of origin may be comfortable or complicated.

Our physical or mental health conditions may pose barriers to coming to the table.

But what might we miss if we turn away from the call?

It's in the whisper of Advent:

"Come to the table...and wait...

Rest and restore from your weariness, scatteredness and tension.

Receive real food; soul food for revitalization.

Relish in the joy of this day, in this moment."

And if the Advent table is anything,

it is a means to bring us back to the table as we practice:

Acknowledgement: I need this anchor for life.

Trust: Something good will come from this.

Obedience: I will show up, despite my feelings.

There is the expectations that a table will serve up something, in due time.

Blessed are you who hunger now, for you shall be filled. Luke 6:21

Isn't that why we come to the table in the first place?

"Come, everyone who thirsts..." Isaiah 55:1

Connecting to the body, we drink, and we eat.

Drinking and eating, we ground ourselves in the present moment.

Present and alive, we fully feel life's comforts and discomforts.

Everything. Everywhere. All at once.

And it will be all right.

Because in connecting as we nourish ourselves and others, something happens.

Our needs are seen. Shared. Honored. Validated. Experienced.

But there is more.

"This is my body, given up for you." Luke 22:19

When we are willing to receive the invitation, "Come to the table,"

we will experience a transformation, in due time.

This table is the Table -

the altar of sacrifice is now a Table, set for us:

the Table is our Lord outstretched, welcoming us to revere, rest and restore in His presence;

our Table is our God of gifts, renourishing and revitalizing us for Life;

our Table is our Emmanuel with us, giving us joy, peace and hope, in this moment.

Can we hear the Table speaking?

"Come...and let Me return your commitment into connection, conversation, communion...."

"Behold...I am about to do something new..." Isaiah 43:19

Come to the table, just as you are.

Come - inadequate or intimidated, indifferent and uninspired.

Come. Especially then.

Because the promise is real:

"You prepare a Table before me in the presence of my enemies (my negative thoughts);

You anoint my head with oil; my cup (of blessing) overflows.

Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life

and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever." - Psalm 23

The Creator has set the Table for us.

"Drink from it, all of you." Matthew 26:27-28

The Table is One intermingled with blessing and suffering and overcoming.

Arriving daily, can we hear the hope-filled conversation with our Savior?

"We welcome one another. We agree to do life together."