Reason #762

Growing up, I watched my mom always ask what she could bring when we went to a family dinner. It was understood that everyone would chip in and bring a food item, that way, the cook wasn’t overwhelmed. Usually, it was a side or dessert, but I grew up thinking this is the way the world worked. When someone asked you over for a meal at their house, you always asked what you could bring. After all, it seemed a bit presumptuous to just show up and expect them to spend their money, time, talent, and energy to serve you. Sure, they extended the invitation, but it seemed that the polite thing to do was offer help in someway. If you didn’t bring a side dish or dessert, then you’d help clean up the kitchen after dinner. And, even if you did bring something, you still helped with the kitchen anyway. True, it was their house and you were the guest, but they invited you over to grow a relationship with you, which means so much more than just showing up, being served, and then leaving them with the mess when you’re finished.

 

Obviously, I wasn’t the only girl whose mother taught them this lesson. So many of my girlfriends do the exact same thing. Usually, I find myself giving them my usual answer of “just bring your appetite.” I don’t want my friends to be burdened by coming to eat dinner at my house. I want to serve them. I want them to enjoy their time in our home, and that is just a little way I can show them my love. They always ask, and even if they didn’t, I’d still have them over. And so, every now and then, depending on the size of the crowd, I’ll let them bring something. Usually, I throw out options and let them pick so that they can choose what they want, or I’ll give them the simplest thing to bring. I certainly don’t mind putting in the extra work, but I don’t want to rob them of the joy in helping to provide the meal, too. After all, it is an honor not only to be invited to dinner at someone’s house but to help them out with your simple fruit salad or bundt cake as a way of thanking them for hosting you.

 

Say you invited your friends over for dinner and they accepted. They didn’t ask if they could bring anything, and, in fact, they told you what they wanted to eat. They didn’t tell you out of a mere suggestion. No, they made it clear that if you didn’t serve that meal, they wouldn’t come. They sent you pictures of what they wanted it to look like, and even sent the exact recipe you were to use. You’ve never cooked it before, and this wasn’t what you had in mind to make. Plus, it’s a gourmet meal, and you’re more of a crock-pot gal than a chef. But you love your friends, and so you head to the store and spend a small fortune, actually more than you spend on a week’s worth of groceries, so that you have everything you need to make this dinner for your friends. They arrive and immediately sit down to eat. You’ve tried to finish dinner in time so that they didn’t have to wait on you. You did your best, but the food didn’t turn out like the pictures. You followed the recipes as closely as you could, and you’re hoping they’ll give you credit for that. They stare at you from the table, expecting you to fix their plates and serve them. You do, and they wrinkle their nose at the food you place in front of them. You spent hours cooking that food, not to mention the fact that you’ve used every pot, pan, and dish in your kitchen , and they don’t even bother to act appreciative that you tried to meet their dinner request that far exceeded your cooking abilities. You watch them pick at their food in disgust, whisper complaints back and forth during the meal about how much they dislike it, make snide little remarks, compare it to other meals that were much better in their opinion, and tell you how you messed it up. After they finish, they get up, walk out of the door, and don’t even bother to thank you for having them over. They don’t thank you for spending your week’s worth of grocery money on the dinner. They don’t applaud you for trying your best to fix the meal they wanted. They don’t even care that your feelings are hurt, and they certainly don’t stick around to help you with the mountain of dishes sitting in the sink. And just when you think the worst has happened, your friends get on Facebook and tell the social media world their blunt and honest opinion of dinner as if you don’t even matter. You’d probably never ask them, or anyone else, over for dinner again, would you?

 

Yet every Sunday, we show up to God’s house and we do the same thing. We don’t offer to bring Him anything, yet we sit there with the full expectation of being served. We want to be entertained the way we want to be entertained. Anything less that that is unacceptable. We sit and we make comparisons the entire time. We make snide little comments about the choir, the selection of worship songs, the pastor, the man singing the special music, and the family sitting next to us with the noisy child. We judge our Sunday school class, we judge the children’s program, we judge the church’s mission because we know full well how to do all of it better than they do. We know what would be best for that church, even though only a fraction of the body actually shows up consistently every Sunday. And so the church makes a decision we don’t like, they offer a program we don’t care for, or sing a song that differs from our preference, and we’re done. We get up and walk out completely unappreciative for the fact that we get to gather in Lord’s house freely every single week, and we complain about it to everyone we know as if the Lord, Himself, doesn’t really matter.

 

The host invites you to serve you. The host invites you to meet your needs and satisfy your hunger. The host desires to know you more, to develop a deeper relationship with you, and that’s why the invitation is extended. Because it’s really not about the meal. They aren’t asking you over so they can spend all afternoon in the kitchen cooking. They aren’t asking you to come eat at their table so they can spend their hard earned money on you. They aren’t asking your presence in their home so that they have a reason to clean the place up and use their pots and pans. In fact, they aren’t even asking you over so that you’ll bring your world-famous brownies for dessert, although they certainly wouldn’t mind that. The host is asking because they love you. The host is asking because they want to build a relationship and fellowship with you.

 

And so the question is, do you go expecting to simply be served, or do you go to participate in the meal? Do you go to fellowship, or do you go out of guilt? Do you go with a heart of gratitude for the open invitation, for the provision, the love, the community, and the effort put forth to have you there, or do you go to criticize, belittle, compare, and judge?  Do you go with an offering of anything at all, or do you go just to take?

 

Jesus said anyone who wants to come to His table in invited. An open invitation to come and be satisfied with the richest of fare. And maybe you’re thinking, “What could I possibly bring?” A heart of gratitude, appreciation for all He has done, thanksgiving for getting to eat with the Savior, and praise for who He is would be a good place to start. The table is set, and you can eat as much as you want, but remember it’s not about what you eat, it’s about who you’re dining with.  

 

#762 - For an open dinner invitation.

 

“Write this: Blessed are those who are invited to the wedding feast of the Lamb.” - Revelation 19:9