At the Table with Jesus: A Table of Forgiveness
I grew up in a home where you sat for dinner every evening. We feasted regularly on two veggies, meat, and bread prepared by my mom. I don’t remember the conversations, but I remember the habit of eating together.
My wife’s family had a tradition of Sunday lunch at her grandparents’ house. Aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends would assemble for a meal every week.
My mom’s side has an annual family reunion. People who only see one another once a year will gather and catch up on all the family drama.
Some of our fondest memories are of family meals. At the table, we are initiated, nurtured, and claimed into the family. We participated in shared memories and fellowship around the sweet potato casserole, mashed potatoes, and cornbread. At the family table, we find our place, our name, and our story.
As we move forward in worship toward gathering at the Lord’s Table, I recognize that it brings us into sacred communion with Christ and draws us together as a family—both with those present and with the saints who have gone before us. Sitting at this table of fellowship can feel complicated when our hearts ache from the absence of someone we deeply love.
There’s a tension in being here between the comfort of tradition and the pain of missing their presence. For many, the familiar worship rituals are bittersweet reminders of shared memories now impossible to recreate. For some of you today, simply showing up took courage, a step toward healing even when your heart isn’t ready to move forward.
I want to honor that gathering at the Lord’s Table—or any table—when a loved one is no longer with us can be one of the hardest things to do. The empty seat is a powerful reminder of what we have lost at family meals, holidays, or even just everyday dinners.
May you be encouraged today to remember that when we break the bread and lift the cup, we proclaim Christ’s death and resurrection and the promise that death will not have the final word. At this table, we are united with the communion of saints, including those we mourn today. In that sense, your loved one is not as far away as it seems. They are part of the great cloud of witnesses seated with us at the Lord’s eternal table.
There is a story about a little boy admiring the stained glass while sitting alone in a big sanctuary. An older gentleman sits beside him and asks, “Young man, what are you looking at?” And the boy replies, “I am looking at all the people on those big, beautiful windows. And wondering who are they?” The old man replies, “Well, Son, those are the saints of the church.”
The little boy’s mom finally came in and sat down, asking him what he was talking about. The boy said, “The man was telling me about the saints.” The mom asked, “What do saints do, son?” The little boy said, “The saints are the ones that let the light in.”
All Saints Sunday invites us to remember those in our lives who reflected Jesus. It is a day when we remember how their kindness, wisdom, and faith let the light of Christ into our lives.
When we break bread today, may we do so with gratitude for the saints who shaped our faith. May we leave this place empowered to be saints in our own time, reflecting Christ’s love to a world in need.
Jesus says, “Do this in remembrance of me” (Luke 22: 19). Jesus will take this traditional Jewish meal and transform it into remembrance of his life, death, and resurrection. The bread and the cup are taken up by sinners and received as gifts of the grace of his sacrifice on our behalf.
Gathering at Jesus’ table is not only a place of memory but also a place where forgiveness must be practiced. Even at this table, where Jesus offers His body and blood to forgive sins, there are deep wounds among those present. Judas will soon betray Him. Peter will deny Him. The other disciples will abandon Him in His greatest hour of need.
There is a Judas absent from every family table. There is a Peter who has walked away. He may not be physically absent, but he has done things that are not discussed. She may still show up for Sunday lunch, but the conversation stays on the surface, the soul is left untouched, and she dies a little more on the inside each time they gather.
How do we begin to love one another back to the family table? It starts with forgiveness. Author Lewis Smedes once said, “To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you.”
Forgiveness is deciding that what has been done to me in the past will not define my future. Forgiveness means I refuse to let the hurt define me. Forgiveness means I am no longer going to carry the hurt. I am going to give it to Jesus.
It is not ignoring the past. It doesn’t deny the hurt or the act of betrayal. A healed past is not a deleted memory. But it is saying that the past will not define where you live in the present or where you are headed into the future.
Forgiveness is a courageous act. It is courageous because it requires allowing the negative feelings of outrage and grief to come in. But they don’t stay there. If they stay there, the hurt turns into resentment, and resentment turns into hate. Forgiveness is allowing yourself to feel the pain, letting it in, and then letting it go. Forgiveness is releasing the hurt before it turns into resentment.
Forgiveness does not mean we shouldn’t hold others accountable for their actions. Forgiveness does not mean that we allow the offense to recur again and again. Forgiveness is returning to God the act of taking care of justice. Forgiveness is trusting God with the wounds that we cannot heal ourselves.
The same Christ who invites us to remember His life, death, and resurrection also invites us into a life marked by forgiveness, healing, and reconciliation.
This week, I challenge you to consider: Who is missing from your table? Is there a conversation you’ve avoided, a relationship needing healing, or a burden of unforgiveness weighing heavy on your heart? Perhaps there is someone God is calling you to reach out to, even if it feels uncomfortable or incomplete.
The one thing I have learned from doing so many funerals this year is that tomorrow is never promised. I urge you to make room in your heart for both remembrance and reconciliation. Send that text. Make that phone call. Set the extra place at the table. Just as the saints before us reflected Christ’s love and “let the light in,” may we shine with that same light in the lives of others. As we break bread and share the cup, may we carry forward the grace we receive here into a world in desperate need of love, hope, and healing. Go now, empowered by the Spirit, to reflect Christ’s light and welcome others to the table of grace. (Go to All Saints Liturgy at the Table)
Pastor Jamey
(Click Here to Watch the Worship Service from Gainesville First United Methodist Church, Gainesville, Georgia)
Questions to Consider:
- Reflect on the role of family meals in your life. How have these gatherings shaped your sense of belonging and community? What memories stand out?
- Are there memories of loved ones who have passed that inspire you to “let the light in” and live out Christ’s love in your everyday life?
- Is there an unresolved hurt in your life that you feel called to release?
Prayer:
Forgiving God, Help us to forgive as You have forgiven us, releasing burdens and healing wounds that keep us apart. Give us courage to invite those who feel distant back to the table, and grace to be a light for others. May we remember Your love in every broken piece of bread and every shared cup, carrying Your peace and hope to a world in need. Amen.
Benediction:
May you walk in the courage to forgive, the strength to love, and the wisdom to shine with the light of Jesus. Go forth as saints in your own time, bringing hope, healing, and welcome to a world in need.
Jamey Prickett 