Yes, that was the scene in Jericho one afternoon. Jesus was passing through town on his way to Jerusalem, creating quite the buzz. The townspeople rushed out to see Him, including Zacchaeus, the chief tax collector in the area. Dressed in his shiny robes, made of the most luxurious textiles, with impeccably clean sandals, he ran ahead of the crowd to catch a glimpse of the man they called “Rabbi.” Everyone looked at Zac with disdain, audible sneers, and repulsion. No one, NO ONE, liked tax collectors. And why should they? Zac worked for the enemy, the Roman Empire. And he was wealthy. He had a big house on the edge of town, probably paid for by the money he skimmed off the people’s taxes.
Zacchaeus scouted the location and saw a sycamore tree. There! He would climb the tree! A perfect place to observe and see Jesus. Jesus and his friends inched closer and closer, until they stopped right under the sycamore tree. “Zacchaeus,” Jesus said, “come down at once. I must stay in your home today.”
Shocked and awed, Zacchaeus climbed down the tree. Jesus wanted to come to his home? His HOME! They could have gone to the diner, or the country club, but no, Jesus wanted to go to his HOME, to sit at his table, and meet his family and friends. He looked up at Jesus and smiled cheerfully. He was so honored and happy to welcome Jesus into his home. Before they could even arrive at his house, Zacchaeus stopped in his tracks. Jesus had given him the best gift he had ever received – Jesus called him by his name, when others only called him bad names. Jesus gave His time and His presence. Convicted of his broken lifestyle, Zacchaeus confessed his sins and fell into his identity as a beloved child of God.
Good morning, Beloved friends. We are in nearing the end of a sermon series called Life of the Beloved, based on a bestseller by Henri Nouwen. In this book, Nouwen guides the reader on how to fully live into being a beloved child of God. All at once, beloved is both who we are, and who we are called to become. When our deepest truth is that we are the Beloved, and when our greatest joy and peace come from fully claiming that truth, it is only natural that it will become visible and tangible in the ways we eat and drink, talk and love, play and work. When we believe we are beloved, we walk cheerfully. We shine and reflect Christ’s light. We choose joy.
In the last weeks, we have spoken about our identity as the beloved and how Nouwen uses four words to describe the movement of the Spirit in our lives: Taken, Blessed, Broken, and Given. Being taken, or chosen, is the basis for our being the Beloved. We’re each stamped with the image of God and chosen as His Beloved ones. No one is rejected. As we claim our chosenness by saying “yes” to the gift of God’s grace, and live it as our truth, we come to understand we are blessed by God and called to bless others through our prayer and our presence. Last Sunday, we continued by acknowledging our brokenness. Each of us are broken in some way, but Christ takes our brokenness, molds us and restores us, so that we can be given.
Today, we are exploring this fourth movement of the Spirit in our lives: given. Nouwen believes our greatest fulfillment is in giving ourselves to others. Beyond all our desires to be appreciated and rewarded, there lies a simple and pure desire to give. Our humanity comes to its fullest bloom in our giving. And, I would argue, that as southerners, our most joyful giving is when we break bread together. But the joy of a meal isn’t just about the food; it’s about the sharing of our lives and the offering of hope, that happens around the table. It’s in the sharing of our lives with each other that we understand our chosenness and blessedness, and receive healing in our brokenness.
When you read through the Gospels, it is quite clear: Jesus loved a meal. Open to any page in Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John, and you’ll find Jesus in one of three places: on His way to a meal, eating a meal, or just leaving a meal. Miracles, teachings, parables, and sermons were always happening around a meal. Think about it:
· At the wedding feast at Cana, Jesus performed His first miracle of turning water to wine.
· At Matthew’s house, Jesus enjoyed dinner with sinners and tax collectors after calling Matthew to follow Him.
· In Capernaum, Jesus healed Peter’s Mother-in-Law, who promptly arose and made lunch for the Savior.
· On a journey south, Jesus stopped to eat grain from the grainfield with the disciples on the Sabbath, and took the opportunity to teach a lesson to the Pharisees.
· At the table of Simon the Pharisee, He forgave a sinner’s sins.
· At the house of Simon the Leper, and at the house of one of the chief Pharisees, Jesus lunched with saints and sinners alike.
· In Bethany, He often reclined at the table with Lazarus, Mary, and Martha. It was here that Jesus was anointed. It was here that Jesus taught us to have a Mary spirit of listening and learning, while living in a Martha world of tasks and projects.
And in Jericho, Jesus called down Zacchaeus from a sycamore tree. Jesus chose the chief tax-collector’s house for dinner, making Zacchaeus feel special and seen. Jesus called him by name, blessing him with the gift of acknowledgement and presence. Convicted of his brokenness, skimming money off the townspeople’s taxes, Zac repented of his sins. And through his repentance, Zac pledged to give to others four times what he had taken from them. On the walk with Jesus to his house for dinner, Zacchaeus feasted on the Bread of Life, as he prepared to make dinner for his Beloved Christ.
So why? Why am I talking so much about food and tables? N.T. Wright, a New Testament scholar, concluded that when Jesus wanted to explain to His disciples about His forthcoming death - what His purpose and life was all about - He didn’t give them a theory, He gave them a meal. Indeed, in the Upper Room in Jerusalem, Jesus gathered His disciples and friends for their Last Supper. While they were eating, Jesus took bread, and when He had given thanks, He broke it and gave it to His disciples, saying, “Take and eat; this is my body given for you.” The same pattern of language — taken, blessed, broken, given — also shows up in the accounts of feeding the 5000, as well as in the scene in which Jesus eats dinner with the disciples, with whom He had walked on the road to Emmaus. Being taken, blessed, broken, and given is at the heart of the Christian story. This is the shape of communion. The shape of the Gospel. The shape of the Christian life.
Jesus used meals and tables to teach connection, reconciliation, blessing, brokenness, and ultimately givenness. He reminds us that there’s more to food than fuel. We don’t eat only for sustenance. A meal together is one of the most beautiful expressions of our desire to be given to each other. And, if we are called to imitate Jesus, we, too, should find the significance in eating and drinking with one another.
As Nouwen wrote, “the expression ‘breaking bread together’ shows the breaking and the giving as one act.” Jesus broke the bread and gave it to His disciples. Jesus modeled for us vulnerability at the table. At a meal, we disarm ourselves. Eating from the same bread and drinking from the same cup calls us to live in unity and peace. Everyone, no matter their culture, race, tax bracket, or gender, has to eat, right?!
Last February, I was in the Judean wilderness spending the night at a Bedouin camp. And come to find out, Bedouin tribes have a practice called a “sulha”. S-U-L-H-A
This is an Arabic term derived from the Hebrew word for “table” – “shulhan”.
S-H-U-L-H-A-N. A Sulha is a meal between enemies for the purpose of reconciliation. Before the conflict can get out of hand, an attempt at reconciliation is made. The two families, who are involved in a conflict, come together at the table to eat and to seek forgiveness and understanding. It is around the table where the walls come down and reconciliation takes place.
Eastern cultures throughout Asia and Africa, from the distant past up to the present, have understood that sharing a meal together is a sign of true fellowship and connection. For thousands of years, groups have shared a ceremonial meal as a symbol of peace and mutual acceptance after making a covenant. In fact, don’t we also do this? Following a wedding, we celebrate the covenant of marriage with elaborate receptions, where we break bread and connect with our new family and friends. So, I ask you this: Who do you need to invite to your table to give the gift of connection, to grant your forgiveness, or to instigate reconciliation?
Whereas Jesus saw the table as a place of reconciliation and connection, He also saw the Table as a place of blessing.
Living in the south, I think we can appreciate Jesus’ love for meals and His call for us to gather around a table. I love my dining room table. When Christopher and I got married, the only thing I said I absolutely had to bring to his house was my dining room table. Everything else could go to storage or be given away! But I could not bear to get rid of my table. After countless meals shared with family and friends, my table had become an icon of God’s grace and goodness. To take up a place at that table was to occupy sacred space. The people I loved most sat with me there. Our Global Mission Team prayed fervently at that table for Christ to partner us with like-minded servants all around the world. My Haitian family, our friends from Russia, Romania, Costa Rica, Australia, New Zealand, Czech Republic, and Uganda, have all broken bread at that table. Many of YOU have sat at that table! Meals were shared. Stories were told. Sins were confessed. We laughed together and cried together. Together we remembered where we’d been. And we dreamed of where we might go one day. We prayed at that table. And at that table, we experienced God’s nearness, God’s kindness, and God’s love.
By gathering with people around our tables, we can enjoy a meal as both a gift and means of grace. Such gatherings need not involve lavish spreads. They can be quite simple. For around the dinner table, we gather with guests and get a glimpse of the banquet of the kingdom to come. Meals are where we get a little foretaste of the shalom, the wholeness of God, where the veil that separates heaven and earth seems exceedingly thin. So, I ask you this: Who do you need to invite to your table in an effort to bring the blessing of the kingdom of heaven here on earth?
As we said last week, Jesus also saw the Table as a place of brokenness and restoration. My favorite meal scene in all of Scripture is found in the Gospel of John, chapter 21. It was on the banks of the Sea of Galilee after the resurrection of Jesus. After a futile night of fishing, the disciples encounter Jesus, who calls out to them from the shore. Acting impulsively, as always, Peter dives into the water, fully clothed, in an effort to get to Jesus. As he emerges from the sea, dripping wet, he moves toward Jesus, who had made a charcoal fire on the beach. At that moment, he smelled a hauntingly familiar smell. The word that John used to describe the fire that Jesus made is the same word that occurs in only one other place in Scripture — in John chapter 18, verse 18. There, we find Peter, and the others, warming themselves by the fire on the night of Jesus’s arrest and trial. The charcoal fire of John 18:18 was the place of Peter’s denial. For Peter, shame had a smell — that of burning charcoal. But the charcoal fire of John 21 is the place of Peter’s restoration.
The simple invitation of Jesus to His friend is, “Come. Let’s have breakfast”. The last thing Jesus wanted to do before He ascended into Heaven was to make breakfast for His best friends - for the table is the place where broken sinners find connection and belonging. Despite our best intentions, we all, like Peter, stumble after Jesus. Around the table, the bonds of spiritual friendship are strengthened among believers, who are walking together on the road of discipleship. So, I ask you this: Who do you need to invite to your table to share in your brokenness? What aroma reminds you that you are beloved?
And finally, Jesus used the Table as a Place of Givenness.
This latter aspect of our identity reminds us that as God’s people, we are given to the world — called to represent Him. God’s mission is to rescue and renew His good but broken creation, and we are swept up into that mission and called to participate in it by announcing and embodying the love of God in Christ.
Giving from our chosenness, blessedness, and brokenness is about living as God’s people, representing Christ, and personifying the Fruit of the Spirit. We are chosen, blessed, and broken:
· so we can give affection for others and be loving,
· so we can have exuberance about life and exude joy to others,
· so we can have serenity and provide peace.
We are chosen, blessed, and broken:
· so we can develop a willingness to stick with things and offer patience,
· so we can have a sense of compassion in our hearts and offer kindness and generosity,
· so we can have a conviction that a basic holiness permeates all things and all people.
We are chosen, blessed, and broken:
· so we can find ourselves involved in loyal commitments and be faithful,
· so we are not needing to force our way in life, but we can be gentle,
· so we are able to marshal and direct our energies wisely with self-control.
Yes, the Fruit of the Spirit – love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control - is meant to be shared throughout all our lives’ activities, but especially around the table. It is the greatest gift we can give to each other, as we live our life in Christ. Our call from God is to let others know that they are chosen and blessed, and in their brokenness, they are beloved. Let us invite them to our tables to experience connection, reconciliation, and blessing, and teach them how they, too, can give their lives to Christ and live into their identity as being a beloved child of God.
For remember these words of belovedness that the Lord offers to each of us:
I have called you by name, from the very beginning. You are mine. And I am yours. You are my Beloved, on you my favor rests. I have molded you in the depths of the earth and knitted you together in your mother’s womb. I have carved you in the palms of my hands and hidden you in the shadow of my embrace. I look at you with infinite tenderness, and care for you with a care more intimate than any other relationship on earth. I have counted every hair on your head and guided you at every step.
Wherever you go, I go with you. Wherever you rest, I keep watch. I will give you food that will satisfy all your hunger and drink that will quench your thirst. I will not hide from you. You know me as your own, as I know you as my own. You belong to me. Wherever you are, I will be. Nothing will separate us. We are one.
In the last weeks, we have spoken about our identity as the beloved and how Nouwen uses four words to describe the movement of the Spirit in our lives: Taken, Blessed, Broken, and Given. Being taken, or chosen, is the basis for our being the Beloved. We’re each stamped with the image of God and chosen as His Beloved ones. No one is rejected. As we claim our chosenness by saying “yes” to the gift of God’s grace, and live it as our truth, we come to understand we are blessed by God and called to bless others through our prayer and our presence. Last Sunday, we continued by acknowledging our brokenness. Each of us are broken in some way, but Christ takes our brokenness, molds us and restores us, so that we can be given.
Today, we are exploring this fourth movement of the Spirit in our lives: given. Nouwen believes our greatest fulfillment is in giving ourselves to others. Beyond all our desires to be appreciated and rewarded, there lies a simple and pure desire to give. Our humanity comes to its fullest bloom in our giving. And, I would argue, that as southerners, our most joyful giving is when we break bread together. But the joy of a meal isn’t just about the food; it’s about the sharing of our lives and the offering of hope, that happens around the table. It’s in the sharing of our lives with each other that we understand our chosenness and blessedness, and receive healing in our brokenness.
When you read through the Gospels, it is quite clear: Jesus loved a meal. Open to any page in Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John, and you’ll find Jesus in one of three places: on His way to a meal, eating a meal, or just leaving a meal. Miracles, teachings, parables, and sermons were always happening around a meal. Think about it:
· At the wedding feast at Cana, Jesus performed His first miracle of turning water to wine.
· At Matthew’s house, Jesus enjoyed dinner with sinners and tax collectors after calling Matthew to follow Him.
· In Capernaum, Jesus healed Peter’s Mother-in-Law, who promptly arose and made lunch for the Savior.
· On a journey south, Jesus stopped to eat grain from the grainfield with the disciples on the Sabbath, and took the opportunity to teach a lesson to the Pharisees.
· At the table of Simon the Pharisee, He forgave a sinner’s sins.
· At the house of Simon the Leper, and at the house of one of the chief Pharisees, Jesus lunched with saints and sinners alike.
· In Bethany, He often reclined at the table with Lazarus, Mary, and Martha. It was here that Jesus was anointed. It was here that Jesus taught us to have a Mary spirit of listening and learning, while living in a Martha world of tasks and projects.
And in Jericho, Jesus called down Zacchaeus from a sycamore tree. Jesus chose the chief tax-collector’s house for dinner, making Zacchaeus feel special and seen. Jesus called him by name, blessing him with the gift of acknowledgement and presence. Convicted of his brokenness, skimming money off the townspeople’s taxes, Zac repented of his sins. And through his repentance, Zac pledged to give to others four times what he had taken from them. On the walk with Jesus to his house for dinner, Zacchaeus feasted on the Bread of Life, as he prepared to make dinner for his Beloved Christ.
So why? Why am I talking so much about food and tables? N.T. Wright, a New Testament scholar, concluded that when Jesus wanted to explain to His disciples about His forthcoming death - what His purpose and life was all about - He didn’t give them a theory, He gave them a meal. Indeed, in the Upper Room in Jerusalem, Jesus gathered His disciples and friends for their Last Supper. While they were eating, Jesus took bread, and when He had given thanks, He broke it and gave it to His disciples, saying, “Take and eat; this is my body given for you.” The same pattern of language — taken, blessed, broken, given — also shows up in the accounts of feeding the 5000, as well as in the scene in which Jesus eats dinner with the disciples, with whom He had walked on the road to Emmaus. Being taken, blessed, broken, and given is at the heart of the Christian story. This is the shape of communion. The shape of the Gospel. The shape of the Christian life.
Jesus used meals and tables to teach connection, reconciliation, blessing, brokenness, and ultimately givenness. He reminds us that there’s more to food than fuel. We don’t eat only for sustenance. A meal together is one of the most beautiful expressions of our desire to be given to each other. And, if we are called to imitate Jesus, we, too, should find the significance in eating and drinking with one another.
As Nouwen wrote, “the expression ‘breaking bread together’ shows the breaking and the giving as one act.” Jesus broke the bread and gave it to His disciples. Jesus modeled for us vulnerability at the table. At a meal, we disarm ourselves. Eating from the same bread and drinking from the same cup calls us to live in unity and peace. Everyone, no matter their culture, race, tax bracket, or gender, has to eat, right?!
Last February, I was in the Judean wilderness spending the night at a Bedouin camp. And come to find out, Bedouin tribes have a practice called a “sulha”. S-U-L-H-A
This is an Arabic term derived from the Hebrew word for “table” – “shulhan”.
S-H-U-L-H-A-N. A Sulha is a meal between enemies for the purpose of reconciliation. Before the conflict can get out of hand, an attempt at reconciliation is made. The two families, who are involved in a conflict, come together at the table to eat and to seek forgiveness and understanding. It is around the table where the walls come down and reconciliation takes place.
Eastern cultures throughout Asia and Africa, from the distant past up to the present, have understood that sharing a meal together is a sign of true fellowship and connection. For thousands of years, groups have shared a ceremonial meal as a symbol of peace and mutual acceptance after making a covenant. In fact, don’t we also do this? Following a wedding, we celebrate the covenant of marriage with elaborate receptions, where we break bread and connect with our new family and friends. So, I ask you this: Who do you need to invite to your table to give the gift of connection, to grant your forgiveness, or to instigate reconciliation?
Whereas Jesus saw the table as a place of reconciliation and connection, He also saw the Table as a place of blessing.
Living in the south, I think we can appreciate Jesus’ love for meals and His call for us to gather around a table. I love my dining room table. When Christopher and I got married, the only thing I said I absolutely had to bring to his house was my dining room table. Everything else could go to storage or be given away! But I could not bear to get rid of my table. After countless meals shared with family and friends, my table had become an icon of God’s grace and goodness. To take up a place at that table was to occupy sacred space. The people I loved most sat with me there. Our Global Mission Team prayed fervently at that table for Christ to partner us with like-minded servants all around the world. My Haitian family, our friends from Russia, Romania, Costa Rica, Australia, New Zealand, Czech Republic, and Uganda, have all broken bread at that table. Many of YOU have sat at that table! Meals were shared. Stories were told. Sins were confessed. We laughed together and cried together. Together we remembered where we’d been. And we dreamed of where we might go one day. We prayed at that table. And at that table, we experienced God’s nearness, God’s kindness, and God’s love.
By gathering with people around our tables, we can enjoy a meal as both a gift and means of grace. Such gatherings need not involve lavish spreads. They can be quite simple. For around the dinner table, we gather with guests and get a glimpse of the banquet of the kingdom to come. Meals are where we get a little foretaste of the shalom, the wholeness of God, where the veil that separates heaven and earth seems exceedingly thin. So, I ask you this: Who do you need to invite to your table in an effort to bring the blessing of the kingdom of heaven here on earth?
As we said last week, Jesus also saw the Table as a place of brokenness and restoration. My favorite meal scene in all of Scripture is found in the Gospel of John, chapter 21. It was on the banks of the Sea of Galilee after the resurrection of Jesus. After a futile night of fishing, the disciples encounter Jesus, who calls out to them from the shore. Acting impulsively, as always, Peter dives into the water, fully clothed, in an effort to get to Jesus. As he emerges from the sea, dripping wet, he moves toward Jesus, who had made a charcoal fire on the beach. At that moment, he smelled a hauntingly familiar smell. The word that John used to describe the fire that Jesus made is the same word that occurs in only one other place in Scripture — in John chapter 18, verse 18. There, we find Peter, and the others, warming themselves by the fire on the night of Jesus’s arrest and trial. The charcoal fire of John 18:18 was the place of Peter’s denial. For Peter, shame had a smell — that of burning charcoal. But the charcoal fire of John 21 is the place of Peter’s restoration.
The simple invitation of Jesus to His friend is, “Come. Let’s have breakfast”. The last thing Jesus wanted to do before He ascended into Heaven was to make breakfast for His best friends - for the table is the place where broken sinners find connection and belonging. Despite our best intentions, we all, like Peter, stumble after Jesus. Around the table, the bonds of spiritual friendship are strengthened among believers, who are walking together on the road of discipleship. So, I ask you this: Who do you need to invite to your table to share in your brokenness? What aroma reminds you that you are beloved?
And finally, Jesus used the Table as a Place of Givenness.
This latter aspect of our identity reminds us that as God’s people, we are given to the world — called to represent Him. God’s mission is to rescue and renew His good but broken creation, and we are swept up into that mission and called to participate in it by announcing and embodying the love of God in Christ.
Giving from our chosenness, blessedness, and brokenness is about living as God’s people, representing Christ, and personifying the Fruit of the Spirit. We are chosen, blessed, and broken:
· so we can give affection for others and be loving,
· so we can have exuberance about life and exude joy to others,
· so we can have serenity and provide peace.
We are chosen, blessed, and broken:
· so we can develop a willingness to stick with things and offer patience,
· so we can have a sense of compassion in our hearts and offer kindness and generosity,
· so we can have a conviction that a basic holiness permeates all things and all people.
We are chosen, blessed, and broken:
· so we can find ourselves involved in loyal commitments and be faithful,
· so we are not needing to force our way in life, but we can be gentle,
· so we are able to marshal and direct our energies wisely with self-control.
Yes, the Fruit of the Spirit – love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control - is meant to be shared throughout all our lives’ activities, but especially around the table. It is the greatest gift we can give to each other, as we live our life in Christ. Our call from God is to let others know that they are chosen and blessed, and in their brokenness, they are beloved. Let us invite them to our tables to experience connection, reconciliation, and blessing, and teach them how they, too, can give their lives to Christ and live into their identity as being a beloved child of God.
For remember these words of belovedness that the Lord offers to each of us:
I have called you by name, from the very beginning. You are mine. And I am yours. You are my Beloved, on you my favor rests. I have molded you in the depths of the earth and knitted you together in your mother’s womb. I have carved you in the palms of my hands and hidden you in the shadow of my embrace. I look at you with infinite tenderness, and care for you with a care more intimate than any other relationship on earth. I have counted every hair on your head and guided you at every step.
Wherever you go, I go with you. Wherever you rest, I keep watch. I will give you food that will satisfy all your hunger and drink that will quench your thirst. I will not hide from you. You know me as your own, as I know you as my own. You belong to me. Wherever you are, I will be. Nothing will separate us. We are one.
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