The Table of Welcome
Indianapolis First Friends Quaker Meeting
Pastor Bob Henry
June 18, 2023
Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32 (New Revised Standard Version)
All the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to Jesus. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, "This fellow welcomes sinner and eats with them." So, Jesus told them this parable:
"There was a man who had two sons. The younger of them said to his father, 'Father, give me the share of the property that will belong to me.' So, he divided his property between them. A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant country, and there he squandered his property in dissolute living. When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that country, and he began to be in need. So, he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that country, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. He would gladly have filled himself with the pods that the pigs were eating; and no one gave him anything. But when he came to himself, he said, 'How many of my father's hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands."' So, he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. Then the son said to him, 'Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.' But the father said to his slaves, 'Quickly, bring out a robe--the best one--and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. And get the fatted calf and kill it and let us eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!' And they began to celebrate.
"Now his elder son was in the field; and when he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. He replied, 'Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf, because he has got him back safe and sound.' Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. But he answered his father, 'Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command; yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your property with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!' Then the father said to him, 'Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.'"
Back when I was in my master’s program, I was introduced to Henri Nouwen’s classic book, “The Return of the Prodigal Son.” The book first drew me in because of its use of the famous Rembrandt painting of the same title. It was theology and art interpretation all in one, and it was one of the first theology books that truly spoke to my condition.
Also, when I was reading it, I had recently become a father and was working, as the book challenges, to “become the father” in all areas of my life.
By no means is Nouwen’s book a primer for parenting or fatherhood, rather it is about a more universal challenge to love as God loves, and to be loved as God’s beloved. This is what it meant by “becoming the father.”
As Quakers we know that being friends of God involves growing up and taking on the attributes of the Divine – or becoming like God. Jesus said it this way:
“Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect,
be compassionate as your heavenly Father is compassionate.”
Yet, how do we do that?
Nouwen says it is by welcoming ALL our siblings, neighbors, and friends (those like us and those different than us) in the same way God welcomed us home.
In my 28 years of ministry, I have come to realize that one of the greatest ways to break down the barriers and welcome someone is through food or as we say, “breaking bread together.”
I remember once having breakfast with Friend Colin Saxton. At the time he was the superintendent of the Northwest Yearly Meeting of Friends in the Pacific Northwest. I was not a Quaker at the time, but I was on the journey to become one. I was meeting Colin because he had agreed to be my doctoral supervisor. We met in downtown Portland, Oregon at a bohemian-hipster breakfast place – simply called, “Gravy.”
Over an amazing breakfast we shared our journeys. That conversation, to this day, was transcendent. At one point during our meal, I mentioned how beautiful our conversation was, and he said, “That is because we are truly communing together.” I noticed there and then that there was a special grace at that meal and the Divine was speaking through us to each other’s condition.
Instead of wafers that stick to the roof of your mouth and a small shot of wine (or grape juice), we were feasting on hash, eggs, and homemade toast. Colin went on to explain that instead of through an ancient ritual, Quakers see ANY opportunity to eat together as an opportunity to commune with the Divine – as there is that of God in everyone. The Quaker ideal is to make every meal at every table a Lord's Supper. At that moment, I realized I was becoming a Quaker.
But, if we take these thoughts and then look at our scriptures for today, we might see another very important interpretation that is often missed in the story of the Prodigal Son. Actually, if you listened carefully the parable speaks a great deal about food. Diana Butler Bass, one of my favorite female theologians, pointed this out to me.
The scripture actually begins with a complaint about Jesus’s dinner guests — “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.”
Then it goes on and the younger son takes a job feeding pigs, winds up eating pig food, and decent people refuse to feed him. The whole story changes when he cries out, “I am starving!” He literally goes home to his father because he is hungry.
Did you notice this?
Well wait, there is more…then…
The joyful father throws a feast, complete with music and dancing. The older brother gets angry at the attention his profligate brother has received and complains, “You killed the fatted calf for him” and refuses to partake of the feast. We always read the elder brother as jealous — that he wants the fatted calf. But maybe the elder just wanted to keep things as they’ve always been — a familiar pattern of sustenance based on obligation and duty.
This theme continues…
The father reminds the elder brother that, yes, they have always eaten together, and they have shared many meals. And that’s been good. For them at least. But there is something even better — a feast that does away with old roles and expectations and opens the table with generosity to anyone who wishes to eat.
If you quickly glance at the stories of Jesus in the Bible, you will find that Jesus loves to tell stories about eating, about banquets, about opening the doors wide and welcoming everyone in to eat at the table.
When Jesus wants to get his point across to an individual or group, he intentionally goes and eats with them. Jesus eats with tax collectors and government officials, takes time to feed the masses on a couple of occasions, is found by the disciples grilling some fish for a beach breakfast, breaks bread to open the eyes of those on the road to Emmaus, and in a moment of brilliance, reinterprets an ancient meal of remembrance of his ancestors into a model for breaking down barriers and welcoming everyone to their table.
Diana Butler Bass ponders,
“Perhaps this story of the prodigal son is less about personal forgiveness, where we ask are you the younger or older brother, and more about the feast - a precursor of the supper that Jesus is planning. A type of the revolutionary meal Jesus will institute the night before he is murdered. A meal structured on mutuality and equality, based in humble service to one another and unconditional forgiveness. This old order was good for some, but the new table will be beyond your wildest imaginings.
Jesus will open it up to the people that were unclean, people who were unaccepted, people that were outcast, treated poorly, and even hated.
Diana Butler Bass also points out that, “the parable describes the “meals” offered by the world — how food is structured into social division, brokenness, and inhumanity.”
The table that Jesus will model and invite us to replicate is about overcoming social divides, healing brokenness with reconciliation, and treating everyone at the table with dignity.
And folks I don’t believe this was intended only for a ritual that has lost its impact in the church today, but more importantly it was meant to be instated through the ordinary everyday tables in our homes, at our Meetings, in local restaurants, in lunchrooms/workrooms, community centers, nursing facilities, etc... It was never to be a private ceremony for those already in the “church club.”
Jesus table was a model for every table we partake at. The table itself is an opportunity for us to have a meal of true forgiveness and equality, in a world of genuine love, a table where everyone is seated and sated.
Throughout the last week, I have heard numerous women sharing their joy from the recent Soul Sister event. The reason being is because I believe they were partaking in this communion with one another and thus with the Divine. Through eating together, they broke down barriers and shared stories that brought laughter and joy and drew them closer together. The same happens every time men gather for Threshing Together events.
I look at every lunch, dinner, coffee meeting, as an opportunity to genuinely commune with individuals or groups and engage that of God within them. And that means I must be expectant for opportunities to address social divides, heal brokenness with reconciliation, and bring dignity to my neighbors and friends.
I believe the table is the vessel that can truly change the world if we are willing to use it for such purposes.
Barry Jones said it well,
One of the most important spiritual disciplines for us to recover in the kind of world in which we live is the discipline of table fellowship.
A couple weeks ago, we invited our neighbors over for dessert at our table in our backyard. Sue made one of her “award winning” trifles and since our neighbors are Indian, they made some wonderful almond cookies. We sat on our back porch on a beautiful night sharing stories, eating dessert, and learning about how we each had met our spouses. We heard of their journey to America and shared some of ours journeys as well. Each of us had many questions, but we laughed, learned, and enjoyed each other’s presence. In the end, Sue and I realized we were breaking down social divides and becoming more aware of those with different stories and journeys. The table of fellowship had opened the door.
So, I challenge you this week, become aware of the tables in which you partake and realize the life-giving impact they can have. Then as we enter waiting worship, take some time to reflect upon the following queries:
· How might my table be used to welcome people, address social divides, heal brokenness, and bring dignity to my neighbors and friends?
· Who have I been unwilling to welcome to my table? Why?
· What can we at First Friends do to recover the discipline of table fellowship?