Please have a seat at our table.
It’s not the fanciest. You’ll be getting “silverware”, but it’s plastic. One of the table legs is a little shorter than the others. And you’ll note that we, your table hosts, are not the coolest, not the most fashionable, not the loudest, and not the best-promoted or most advertised.
We not here to sell you anything. We’re not marketing Jesus to you. Honestly? I don’t even want your money. I have a full-time job. I don’t have to do radio (oddly, this isn’t my actual job) and at this point in my life, I’m not terribly needy of attention.
So what do we really want?
We want you.
The real you.
Not the cleaned-up you. Not the oh-now-we’re-talking-about-church-stuff version. We’re inviting the broken to our table, the ones who know they can’t put on a religious show anymore, because they’ve already been found out.
What, you don’t have a “daily quiet time” with the Bible every morning?
Have a seat!
You don’t pray every day? Or every week?
We’re not flinching. Sit down.
When you do pray, your mind drifts all over the place?
Tell us about it. Over dinner.
You’re a judgmental, bitter person who, deep down, wonders how God could still love him?
Ah, we understand. Pull up a chair.
You’re a cheat and a liar?
Yeah. This is the right table! Sit down, and can you pass the butter?
You’re addicted to pornography?
We’re not scandalized. Not even close. Thanks for being here.
You’re a mom who feels like she’s failing her kids?
(sigh) We know all about that. This is your place.
You privately wonder if you even believe in God sometimes?
Been there. Welcome.
You’re angry at Christians for something that happened to you?
That’s interesting. Tell us more.
You’ve been told that God hates you, because of things you’ve done?
He doesn’t. He forgave me, and I’m no better. Have a seat.
You’re not even sure what you think of this “Jesus thing”? You wonder how a man could be God? You wonder how anyone can say he’s the only way to salvation? You don’t understand why God would have rules for our sexuality? You don’t see how a loving God could allow tragedy?
Those are all good questions. We can talk about that. Or we can talk and laugh about other things, if you like, and get to those questions later. It’s up to you.
You’re lonely? You feel like you don’t fit in?
We know how you feel.
We’re oddballs, welcomed at God’s table.
And, please know… you’re welcome at ours.