Twelve for Dinner

 

 

Twelve for Dinner 

 

   A few years ago, our church hosted a "walk to Calvary". We paraded into Jerusalem waving our “palm” branches. Our path took us through several scenes, ending at an empty garden tomb. At one point, we stopped in the upper room to celebrate Passover. The table had paper placemats placed randomly around the table. The placemats were 'monogramed' in sharpie with the names of the disciples. Jesus was in the center, but John was at the end of another table. I gasped at my placemat, Judas.

  This shocking event drove me to research  the seating arrangement of that monumental meal.  We see it as DaVinci's famous painting,  which is not at all true.  

   The seating at Jesus’ last meeting and meal with his beloved disciples was not a coincidence. In Jesus’ time, the upper room of a home held a U-shaped table that allowed the servants to serve from the middle.  It would have been extremely low to the floor with no chairs, only large pillows. Diners reclined on their left side, heads toward the table and legs stretched out behind, eating with their right hands. In this position, the lowest servant could easily wash guest’s feet.   

   The seating of the guests was intentional. Tradition and custom required that the host sit in the second seat on the left. The first and third seats would be for honored guests. The others would be seated around the U in order of their importance. The least honored guest would be at the end of the U on the right side. While this seat would be across from the host, it would be several yards away and with a servant in the middle. This seat was nearest the basin and pitcher used for foot washing. Not a choice seat.

     A close look at the scripture surrounding this event provides interesting inferences.   Jesus, the host, was reclining in the second spot at the left of the table. John 13:23 says that John was “reclining next to” Jesus. In order for John to “lean back against Jesus” (verse 25) he would have had to be sitting at Jesus’ right, the first seat of the table. This same passage indicates that Peter “motioned” for John to inquire of Jesus. Peter had to be sitting far enough away that he could not ask the question, yet close enough to get John’s attention. Scholars believe Peter was sitting across the table in the least important seat. That does not sound like the Peter we all know and love.  That brings up an entirely new discussion,  how did Peter get in the least important seat?  (Maybe next week's post?)

     To Jesus’ immediate left, was the most honored seat of all.  The guest here would share a bowl with the host. This was the seat for the most respected and recognized guest. At this Passover supper, Judas, sat in this honored position. Judas. All four gospel writers acknowledge the presence of a traitor sharing the bowl with Jesus.    

     Jesus knew that Judas was the betrayer, He said as much at dinner. And yet, Judas was sitting in the most honored seat. I want to think that Judas must have elbowed his way to that seat.  But, because of what I know about Jesus, it’s possible that He placed Judas next to Him. It’s possible his heart said,  “Here it is, Judas, one last opportunity to choose Me. One last time let me show you how much I love you. Take one more chance to change your mind”.  In one more action to show His love, Jesus washed Judas’ feet along with the others. In His fully human form, He must have cringed as he scrubbed the dirt from between Judas’ toes. But His love overcame his heartache. At that table,  in those excruciating moments,  Jesus forgave Judas for what he was about to do.  

   Sitting in Judas' seat, (albeit not factual) His great love overwhelmed me that day. His example of how to treat a betrayer, those who deliver the most devastating blows; I was convicted.  

     Is there a betrayer in your history?  While it likely did not lead to physical death, it doubtless led to the death of many other things.   A marriage,  trust,  a job,  a friendship,?   Jesus’ example at the last supper compels us to give a betrayer an honored place in our history.  John Eldredge writes, “Forgiveness is saying the cross is enough.” *

I declare today, The cross IS enough.

 

*John Eldredge, Moving Mountains (Nashville: Thomas Nelson Books, 2016)        

 

I Got Nothin'

        Over the years, I’ve heard many sermons from Ezekiel 37,  the dry bones chapter.  It’s the most popular content for sermons from the book of Ezekiel.  Ezekiel is a difficult book to understand with all the imagery, metaphors, and similes.  This time,  however,  a different portion stood out to me.  In verse 3, God asks Ezekiel if these bones can live again.  Ezekiel says,  “You know”.   In other words,  “I have no idea,  why ask me,  I don’t know.”   I envision Ezekiel shrugging his shoulders and shaking is head.  Beats me, God. 

   How many times have we felt that way? How many times have we screwed our mouth to the side and told a friend,  “I don’t know.”   If we consider our world today, pandemics, racial unrest, political craziness and the ‘laws’  our congress,  the representative of the people come up with?     I don’t know.  It looks hopeless to me. 

    Tony Evans suggested that’s exactly the place where God can work,  in the place where we have no idea what to do. 

   Apparently, I had a lesson to be learned because the next morning,  my study was Acts 3.  Peter and John are accosted by a lame man.  Peter tells the man, he’s got nothing,  but what he got from the Lord on Pentecost morning,  he’ll share that. 

   Peter might have shaken his head and shrugged at the man’s request for help because Peter had no money to give.  If the lame man asked,  “what am I supposed to do?”   their answer would be “I don’t know”.  Peter chose to share what he did know.  He had been infused with power from God through the Holy Spirit and “in the name of Jesus of Nazareth”  the man was healed. 

  I don’t know what the answer is for America.  I don’t know what the outcome will be for  friends struggling with cancer treatments and diagnosis.  I don’t know where the next job is for a friend who’s being terminated.   I don’t know how our teenagers can navigate the world they are living in.  IDK.     Is there any hope?   You know,  God. 

I’ve got nothing but God knows,  I can’t help anyone but “in the name of Jesus of Nazareth,” let's  walk forward and trust the One who can.      

Listen, Remember, Remind Me.

 In this world we are living in ,  Isaiah 46:3-4, 9-11  bears repeating.  Verse 3 starts out “Listen to me.”   I was reminded of all the times that I have said to children,  heard my daughter say to my grandchildren, “listen to me”. We usually have to say it several times and grasp their little faces to make them look at us.  The Hebrew word used in this scripture is translated “to hear intelligently”.  In this verse God is telling Isaiah and US to pay attention, not just hear the babble of the media. Listen to ME! (God).

Secondly,  God reminds Isaiah,  the children of Israel and US that he has held us since our birth,  He created us and has " cared for you since you were born. . .I will be your God throughout your lifetime". It’s a little overwhelming to realize what he has done for us since birth.   I laughed a little at Matthew Henry’s commentary on this verse.  In addressing old age he says, “When compassed about with infirmities, and perhaps those around you grow weary of you, yet I am He that I have promised to be”.   I am very grateful God has not and will not  grow weary of me!

So now that I’m listening and am assured that God is with me,  I skipped to verse 9. “Remember the things I have done in the past."  Those things which undeniably point to who He is and that there is none like Him. There was an old song, "Roll back the curtain of memory now and then, show me where you brought me from and where I could have been". This exercise will make you cry, laugh and open a floodgate of memories. Followed by an immersion of gratitude.

In verse 10,  God tells us that we have a future.  His purpose, plan, advice stands from the beginning and will continue through eternity.  His plan for our lives will not might, maybe, could be, but WILL come to pass.  It’s going to happen just like He said!

And just to punctuate verse 10 with power,  God gives us verse 11. Just a few examples of how He might accomplish his purpose.  Accomplished even with those who don’t know God or follow His lead. The Israelites would have never crossed the Red Sea and continued into the Promised Land had it not been for a band of Egyptians chasing them.   Egyptians who had no interest in doing God’s Will. One of the most pivotal changes in my life came about because of people who had no idea they were being used of God.

I’m immensely grateful this morning that God is in control of this messy life.  Thankful that I can rest in His faithfulness of the past and walk through today knowing with a doubt that He has a purpose.  No matter what I see, hear or think, He will do what He has planned. I'm grateful for where I am today.

Thinkin' about where He brought me from.

Dear People of God in America

      Once again, my daily devotional with Jim Cymbala strikes a chord that I am compelled to write about.   In Revelation 2:12-17  John pens the letter from Jesus to the church at Pergamum.  Pergamum was a great judicial center,  known as a wealthy city.  According to the Pulpit Commentary, Pergamum was famous for its idolatry because of its cluster of temples to  Zeus, Apollo, Athene, Dionysus, Aphrodite, and Aesculapius. 

In verse 13,  Jesus says “I know where you live,  where Satan has his throne.”   Cymbala points out the Satan is not omnipresent;  he cannot be everywhere at once.  He does have legions of minions who do his bidding, but he is only in one place at one time.  Apparently at this point in history,  he was working out of Pergamum.  It makes sense that he would have his “throne”  in places of great worldly influence,  a place of leadership in political, economic, and cultural influence.  Wherever he sets his throne,  it is characterized by policies against God’s kingdom and rule. 

It goes without saying where I think Satan has put his throne in 2021.  However,  I cling to what that verse says,  “I know where you live”.  Imagine,  Jesus knows where we live.  He doesn’t just know our physical location;  He knows where we breathe.    He sees every circumstance of our existence.  He knows why or why not we slept well last night.  He understands the victory or failure of getting  on the scales in the morning.  He’s watching as we stumble through the day. He heard the argument with your spouse,  the frustrated tone with your kids.   His heart felt every beat of yours. 

This Jesus who was and is and will be knows we live in an America that has changed drastically in the last five years.  He sees the evil as well as the good.  His plan for this country did not change on January 20.  The rest of His  message to Pergamum says, “Yet you remain true to my name. You did not renounce your faith in me”    May that be said of us.

Thinkin’ about that today. 

Snake Tunnel Excerpt

 

Today's post is a guest post from a friend. I met Erin at the Christian Writers Conference two years ago in a bookstore line! My readers are used to shorter pieces than Erin's so I've posted a portion of his blog post on Snake Tunnel. You can read the entire story at https://www.erinahnfeldt.com/single-post/snake-tunnel

Boys love drainage tunnels. With each step deeper into one of those unknown man-made caves, the anxious voices and the splashes through the trickling water echo off the corrugated steel walls. Light fades. Those places, on the edge of darkness, are where boys aspiring to be men, prove their worth.

During my middle school years in the heat and humidity of a Virginia summer, we all affectionately called our proving ground “Snake Tunnel”. It was the perfect name for a tunnel that slithered its way under our neighborhood. The broken-down fence around it was easy enough to slip through, and many had before us. The graffiti testified to that. Our wiry middle school bodies fit perfectly two by two as we stood at the entrance, and thank God; it helped to have a companion at your side in case of trouble. There was always great anticipation walking into that echoing silence. With wide eyes, we paused looking at each other to be sure we were really going through with it. Then, ever so slowly, we moved forward, each footstep echoing off walls we could not see.

Once our eyes adjusted, we could see the cobwebs and the light behind us reflecting off the water. Four or five of us walking into that tunnel made quite a sound, and we never spoke what we all thought: What if our noise was alerting someone. . . or something of our presence, and it was crouching, ready to pounce?

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this guys,” someone would yell out. That would be followed by four heads turning to him with a mighty, “Shhhh!” Two or three more steps and someone else would whisper, “What was that?” We all stopped to listen, our minds going back to that questions nobody wanted to voice. Was someone else there?

Hearts pounding in us, we continued, light getting scarce and fear growing. Finally, someone would yell, “I heard it too. I think something’s coming.” The yell in the midst of the vast unknown would be too much, and we would turn toward that little circle of light and run as fast as we could. Now, this would never be a controlled stealthy maneuver out of the darkness. Fear always seemed to get more intense when our backs were turned to the perceived threat. We were confident something was chasing us, so we screamed like little girls.

If terror had not made its way into our hearts by then, the noise of the screams and crazed splashing as we ran for our lives would certainly send that terror like electricity through our bodies. We wanted that light like it was life itself.

We’d explode out of the tunnel and hunch over, hands on our knees, to catch our breath. Then, in all that brightness, we’d laugh with full on belly laughs until tears rolled down our cheeks. I wonder about that laughter. What was so funny? Maybe our panicked reactions struck us as funny when we thought about them in the light. Maybe it was relief. The fear was behind us and we would live another day. Most of all, I think we laughed as a reaction to our freedom from the unknown. We were captives in the tunnel, but we could see in the sunlight that there was “something more” beyond the darkness.

We’re living in a time that feels a lot like the darkness of Snake Tunnel. Confusion and noise reign supreme. Someone makes a comment, and it echoes off the walls of social media. The splashes of political tension explode into broken friendships, and a virus has everyone confused. Mask or no mask? In-person or quarantine? Vaccinations or no vaccinations?

And when you add to all that our own mess—the woundedness, the fear, the pride--that tunnel can feel pretty overwhelming.

That’s what makes the little circle of light at the end so beautiful. My friends and I saw it, and we ran toward it, with reckless abandon. The circle got bigger and bigger until the darkness was gone. And it wasn’t our maturity that got us there. I mean come on; we were middle schoolers. It was because we were so freaked out that we were about to soil ourselves. We were desperate.

Peter says God calls us “out of darkness and into His marvelous light” (1 Peter 2:9). The irony of the times we’re living in right now is that all this darkness only makes the light that much more beautiful. It drives us toward the light, and we won't get there because we're so spiritually mature. We'll get there because we're desperate. A moment to pray, a Bible verse that comes to mind, a song on the radio—those moments of light are more “marvelous” now than ever before. We need them because we're hungry to see what's just outside our tunnels.

There are times in life when it feels like the darkness and noise of our caves and tunnels is all there is,. There will be a day when the light will overwhelm the darkness, and Jesus, the “light of the world”, will be there. He’s calling us out of the darkness, and He’s not just yelling into the tunnel, “Get on out of there!” He walks beside us, and He uses our desperation, like those middle school boys, to help us see “something more” beyond the darkness, glimpses of what's ahead. Our belly laughing moment of sunshine is coming, but until we get there, we need to hold the hand of the One walking beside us, look for the light, and move toward it.