At The Table

"Now, behold, two of them were traveling that same day
to a village called Emmaus, which was seven miles from Jerusalem...
While they conversed and reasoned,
Jesus Himself drew near and went with them.
But their eyes were restrained, so that they did not know Him.
...Beginning at Moses and all the Prophets,
He expounded to them in all the Scriptures
the things concerning Himself.
Then they drew near to the village where they were going,
and He indicated that He would have gone farther.
But they constrained Him, saying,
'Abide with us, for it is toward evening, and the day is far spent.'
And He went in to stay with them.
Now it came to pass, as He sat at the table with them,
that He took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them.
Then their eyes were opened and they knew Him;
and He vanished from their sight."
(From Luke 24)

As I read this to my children this morning, I thought about Hebrews 13:2, which tells us not to forget to entertain strangers, remembering that some who have done so have 'entertained angels unaware'. Such a colorful phrase.

They did not recognize Him on their seven mile walk with Him. They did not recognize Him through His heart-burning exposition of the entire Old Testament to them. And although Jesus was not above inviting Himself to peoples' houses for a meal, in this instance, He would have just kept going had they not pressed Him to stay. They recognized Him at the table in the breaking of bread and in prayer. What if they hadn't shown hospitality?

Don't you love being pressed to stay with people? Having your plans changed by urged hospitality? My husband one time came home from work and told me that some people were coming to stay the night with us and have dinner with us. They were only five minutes behind him. They were a touring German couple he had run into. We spent that night and a day later talking about the things of the Lord with them, stirring them to holy living, and it was so fruitful and so obviously Spirit-led. I don't normally invite foreign strangers to stay in my house with me. It scares me. But a Bible study would not have produced the beautiful fruit the hospitality did. We asked some friends on short notice to eat dinner with us one night, and the girl said, "Oh, I love spontaneous hospitality!" I like that expression.

Just as this was on my mind, we read an account of George Washington's life in Virginia. It said that he sent someone to stand near the crossroads sometimes to 'waylay travelers' to come to dinner at his house. I love to be 'waylaid' to come to dinner.

O My Soul

Candlelight hamburgers

Many times growing up, we would gather to the table for dinner -- all nine of us -- and we would sing our prayer to the Lord. My mom has a very loud singing voice. I hear it in my mind. I see my family, all my younger siblings, and my mom and my dad around the table singing. Sometimes others were gathered with us -- saints from far away who would stay with us, or friends who just couldn't stay away. Such sweet fellowship around the table: long hours of happy talk and stories of what the Lord had done for others. It had more effect on my faith than years of church services.

Bless the Lord!
O my soul!
And all that is within me!
Bless His holy name!
For He has done great things --
Hallelujah!
He has done great things --
Hallelujah!
He has done great things --
Bless His holy name!

And Faith Eats, Too.

I've been thinking a lot about Elijah lately. In obedience to the Lord, Elijah gave the king a message: "You're not getting any rain or dew these years unless I say so." (You can read this story for yourself in 1 Kings 17.)

Then the Lord tells him to flee -- sends him to a brook to drink the water and receive charity from birds. Relying on the charity of birds doesn't sound like a responsible plan. And then the brook dried up because there was no rain -- at his word.

When the brook dried up, the Lord told him to go to Sidon (Lebanon). "See, I have commanded a widow there to provide for you."

A widow? That pretty much guaranteed poverty and want. But Elijah went and found her. She was gathering sticks. Her son must have been very young, or he would have been gathering the sticks. When he asks her for some bread, she answers with reference to the Lord, the Living God -- and explains that she is making the last meal for herself and her son. They plan to eat it and die. All she had was a handful of flour and a drizzle of oil.

Doesn't that excite you? God chose a woman on the edge of starvation to 'provide' for His prophet. In a way, though, He chose to provide for a woman on the edge of starvation through His prophet. Here's this woman with some knowledge of the Living God, and nothing in the bank, and one pathetic meal's worth of food, and God says she's appointed to provide. The prophet tells her to give him a little first, and that God said her bin of flour would not run out, and her oil would not run dry until the Lord sent rain. And she believed him.

I wonder what would have happened if she had said 'no'. She would have starved, I think -- and her son. But the prophet would have been provided for through some other widow.

I think every time she opened that jar and looked inside, it looked nearly empty. I think every time she went to cook it was an act of faith. And every time she ate, it was food from nothing. The Bible says, "The just shall live by faith." And: "we walk by faith and not by sight."

Sight says to go to the land where His name is known, find the richest, most powerful religious leader in that town, and make your appeal. It does not say to go find a Lebanese widow with NOTHING and ask her to be your hostess.

Sight takes water from cisterns -- planned in advance, filled by careful engineering, and guarded over seasons. And it toils to bring forth a harvest of grain, to grind it, to store it, to ration it, to hoard it.

Faith takes water from the Rock and bread from the desert. Faith reaches into the jar and pours out the 'last' drop of oil, and hands it to someone else. And Faith eats, too.