Just Table It!

I've been thinking about the table for over a year now. And the more I've thought about it, the more convinced I've become that this could be one of the most important series I've ever prepared for. We live in a society that's becoming increasingly isolated, fragmented, shallow, superficial, and divided. I believe God is calling us to rediscover something we've overlooked for far too long: the power of the table.

Someone once asked a theologian if he could summarize the Bible in three phrases. His response was simple: “I love you. I forgive you. Let's eat.”

Now, that's an oversimplification, but there's something beautiful about it. The story of Scripture begins with humanity eating from what God had forbidden, moves through the Passover meal and the Lord's Supper, and ends with the marriage supper of the Lamb.

In many ways, the Christian faith is a stewardship of four distinct tables. There's the Table of Hope, which is the Lord's Table; the Table of Identity, which is the family table; the Table of Authenticity, which is the church table; and the Table of Hospitality, which is the mission table. Each one shapes a different part of our lives, and each one invites us into something God wants to restore.

We've already talked about hope and identity, but now I want to talk about the Table of Authenticity. This is where we move from hiding to being seen, from unknown to known, and from the shadows into the light. It's where we discover that following Jesus was never meant to be something we do alone.

As Your Faith Grows, So Should Your Table

My family makes fun of me these days. I've reached that stage of fatherhood where my children no longer think I'm cool, and one of the things they love to tease me about is how much I talk about our dining room table. If you come to my house, there's a good chance I'm going to tell you the story of that table.

When my wife and I first moved to the city over twenty years ago, we had a little table that could barely fit two people. Then we had children, and we needed something bigger. As our family grew and we began welcoming more people into our home, our table had to grow with us. At one point, we had two massive tables because we had so many people coming over.

A few years ago, I was walking through Costco, which, by the way, is a wonderful place to receive inspiration from the Lord. I came across something called a Transformer Table. It starts at just eighteen inches wide, but it can expand to twelve feet long. You simply keep adding sections as you need more room.

I love that picture because it's what I want to happen in our lives. As my faith has grown, so has my table. As my influence has increased, so has my table. My prayer is that God would begin to lengthen our tables, not simply so we can accommodate more people for dinner, but so we can make room for more people in our lives.

We've been saying throughout this series that untabled faith is unstable faith. There are things you need in your relationship with Jesus that you can only receive through meaningful relationships with other believers. And that brings us to a beautiful picture of the early Church in Acts 2.

The Rhythm of Temple and Table

Acts 2:42–47 describes the first believers as people who devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching, fellowship, breaking bread, and prayer. They shared their possessions, cared for those in need, and worshiped together. Verse 46 says, “Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts.”

There's a rhythm in that passage that I don't want us to miss: temple and table.

The early Church gathered together in large groups at the temple, but they also gathered in smaller groups around tables in their homes. They understood that both were essential to a healthy Christian life. They worshiped together publicly, and they built relationships together personally.

I think we do the temple part pretty well in Western Christianity. We know how to gather on Sunday mornings, listen to a sermon, worship together, and participate in church activities. But sometimes we can attend church with the same people for years and know almost nothing about them.

We recognize their faces. We might know where they sit or exchange a quick greeting in the lobby. But we don't know their struggles, their victories, their families, or what's happening in their lives. We can be surrounded by people every Sunday and still lack significant Christian relationships.

The early Church didn't settle for that. They understood that the Christian life required more than gathering in the same room. It required sharing life with one another.

Fellowship Is More Than Friendship

Acts 2 says the believers devoted themselves to fellowship. The Greek word is koinonia, and it carries the idea of partnership, sharing, and participation. It's much deeper than simply spending time together or having a few friends at church.

Fellowship is where your burdens become my burdens, your successes become my successes, and your pain becomes my pain. It's where we begin to live out all the “one another” commands of Scripture. The Holy Spirit begins knitting our hearts together under a common vision, creating a unity that goes beyond our individual interests.

That's why I like the word fellowship more than membership. Membership can be static, but fellowship has movement. It's active, ongoing, and participatory. It asks something of us and calls us to invest in the lives of others.

In Acts 2, we see three dimensions of this kind of fellowship.

First, there's shared presence. The believers committed themselves to spending time together, both in the temple and in their homes. Relationships require time, and we can't build meaningful community without intentionally being present in one another's lives.

Second, there's shared possessions. The early believers practiced generosity, sharing what they had so that needs could be met. They understood that their resources weren't simply for themselves. God had blessed them so they could participate in what He was doing through the entire community.

Third, there's shared passion. Scripture says they ate together with glad and sincere hearts. There was something genuine about their relationships. They weren't pretending, performing, or hiding behind religious appearances. They were sharing life with one another.

That's why I call this the Table of Authenticity. Around the table, we give one another time, we share our resources, and our hearts begin to connect. There's a sincerity that can happen around a table that doesn't always happen in a large gathering.

It's where the masks begin to come off. It's where we move out of the shadows and allow ourselves to be known. It's where we stop simply attending church together and begin becoming the Church together.

Just Table It

Nike has one of the most recognizable slogans in the world: “Just Do It.” Well, I want to give us a phrase that I hope becomes part of our language at Stonecreek.

Just table it.

You see someone drifting in their faith? Get them around the table. You're experiencing division or tension with someone? Don't let it continue growing. Get back around the table and find one another again.

You want to disciple someone or help them grow in their relationship with Jesus? Don't make it more complicated than it needs to be. You don't need a platform, a microphone, or an elaborate teaching plan. Sometimes you simply need to invite someone to sit down, share a meal, ask questions, and open God's Word together.

The table isn't a platform for you to tell everyone everything you know. It's a place where we learn to listen, where we discover what's happening in another person's life, and where relationships deepen through mutual care. A meal isn't a mirror where everything revolves around you. At a meal, everyone has an opportunity to be nourished.

And here's the beautiful thing: this doesn't require a perfect home or an expensive meal. You don't have to be a great cook, and you don't need a dining room that looks like something out of a magazine. You can make macaroni and cheese for all I care. What matters is that you're making room for people.

If you want community, you have to be willing to build it. We can't simply wait for someone else to initiate the relationships we need. Sometimes we have to be the ones who extend the invitation.

A Simple Way to Build Community

I want to make this incredibly practical because I don't want us to leave this as another good idea we heard in church. There's a simple pattern we can use to begin building authentic Christian community, and it's found in the word TABLE.

• T — Together. Eat together. Share a meal, spend time with one another, and make space for relationships to grow. It doesn't have to be elaborate. The goal is simply to be together.

• A — Ask questions. Learn what's happening in one another's lives. You can begin with something as simple as, “What was the high point of your week?” or “What was the low point?” Ask questions and then genuinely listen to the answers.

• B — Bible. Open God's Word together. Read a passage out loud and allow Scripture to become part of your conversation. You don't have to be a Bible scholar to read the Bible with someone.

• L — Live it. Don't stop with simply reading Scripture. Talk about what it means and how you can obey what you've learned. The goal isn't merely to gain more information but to allow God's Word to shape the way we live.

• E — Empty chair. Always leave room for someone who isn't there yet. Think about the neighbor, coworker, friend, or family member who could be invited into the community you're building. The empty chair reminds us that our fellowship is never meant to become an exclusive circle.

In that simple pattern, we find three essential expressions of the Christian life: worship, community, and mission. We build community by eating together and asking questions. We worship by engaging with God's Word and putting it into practice. And we remain on mission by remembering the person who hasn't joined us at the table yet.

You don't need to complicate it. Just table it.

Jesus Built Relationships Around a Table

One of my favorite pictures of this is found in John 21. Peter had denied Jesus three times, and after the resurrection, he went back to fishing. But Jesus wasn't finished with Peter, and the way He approached him is remarkable.

Jesus met Peter and the other disciples on the shore of the Sea of Galilee. When they arrived, Jesus already had a fire burning, with fish and bread prepared for them. And then He said something wonderfully simple: “Come and have breakfast.”

Think about that. Jesus could have immediately confronted Peter about his failure. He could have delivered a long lecture or demanded an explanation. Instead, He prepared a meal and invited Peter to sit with Him.

After breakfast, Jesus began asking questions. Three times He asked Peter, “Do you love me?” And each time, He called Peter back to the responsibility of caring for His people.

Jesus wasn't simply trying to win an argument or make Peter feel guilty. He was restoring a relationship and calling Peter back to his purpose. The conversation happened in the context of a shared meal, where Jesus made room for Peter to be seen, known, and restored.

There's something powerful about that picture. Jesus used a table to create space for a conversation that would change Peter's life. And I wonder how many conversations like that could happen in our own homes if we simply made room for them.

Make Room for Someone Else

I want you to imagine what could happen if we took this seriously. What if the people we worship beside on Sundays became the people we shared meals with during the week? What if we began carrying one another's burdens, celebrating one another's victories, and praying for one another through difficult seasons?

What if we stopped waiting for community to happen and started creating it?

You could leave church this Sunday and invite someone to breakfast. You could take a family out for lunch, welcome someone into your home, or simply sit down with a person you've seen at church for years but never really gotten to know. It doesn't have to be complicated.

I believe God wants to transform our community, but that transformation won't happen through Sunday gatherings alone. We need the temple, but we also need the table. We need places where people can move from isolation into relationship, from hiding into authenticity, and from simply attending church to genuinely belonging to one another.

The question is whether we're willing to make room.

Maybe your table has been reserved for your immediate family. Maybe you've allowed busyness, insecurity, or convenience to keep you from inviting others into your life. Maybe you've been waiting for someone else to reach out to you.

I want to challenge you to take the first step. Make the invitation. Ask the question. Share the meal. Open the Bible. Leave an empty chair.

As your faith grows, let your table grow with it.

Because the Church was never meant to be a room full of strangers who happen to worship the same God. We're called to be a family that knows one another, loves one another, and shares life together.

And sometimes the first step toward becoming that kind of Church is as simple as pulling up another chair.

Just table it.