The following article is a guest post from Jessica Britt.
We were lost. Again.
Our hunt for an apartment took us deep inside a maze of winding rues and avenues in the charming French village on the outskirts of Paris. In a pre-smartphone era, my roommate Lisa and I struggled to make sense of the paper map we held in our hands. A local restaurant owner noticed our despair and graciously offered to help. Grateful for the timely assistance and directions, we thanked him. As we did, a conversation ensued, and in the end, an invitation was extended.
“Je vous invite a mon restaurant…Lundi ? S’il vous plait, c’est. moi. qui. invite!”
I invite you to my restaurant. . . . Monday? Please, it’s me who is inviting!
Given we were complete strangers, this invitation was a lavish gesture. The verb “inviter” implied that the one inviting would be the one paying. Not knowing if the owner meant what he said, we nervously accepted.
Monday arrived, and we returned for dinner. Much to our surprise, we were seated at the owner’s personal table. Sticker shock promptly set in; our ministry salaries did not allow for the prices on the menu. But, before we could place an order for the cheapest appetizer, the courses commenced. Throughout the evening, the most decadent and delicious French food flowed forth for every course imaginable, complete with personal service from the owner himself.
And all of this extravagance was at no cost to us. The restaurant owner was true to his word. “C’est moi qui invite.”
We never saw the restaurant owner again, but more than a decade later while preparing to teach Sunday school, the Lord would use this man’s generous invitation to reveal something significant about a far greater invitation to a far greater table, for a far greater meal: the Lord’s Supper.
Middle Eastern Hospitality
The generosity of our host would have been missed had Lisa and I not recognized the cultural implications of his invitation. Likewise, much can be missed in the Bible by not understanding its cultural context. In order for us to fully understand the gracious invitation of Jesus, it helps to go beyond our 21st-century American understanding of sharing a meal and consider the historical context of the Last Supper.
Hospitality was a vital part of ancient Middle Eastern cultures. Practically, hospitality provided for many physical needs and offered tangible help to friends, family, and sojourners. In a land that could be formidable, barren, and dangerous to traverse, supplies of food, shelter, and protection were of the utmost importance.
Sojourners often survived off the hospitality of complete strangers. The Israelites were familiar with this reality from their trek through the Egyptian desert when they lived off the hospitality God gave them—daily manna, water from rocks, and a cloud of protection. In Leviticus 19:33-34, God integrated hospitality into Jewish law as a practice to remind them of his gracious and sufficient care for them in Egypt.
The call and command for hospitality continues throughout the New Testament and carried with it significant meaning. Extending hospitality in Jesus’s day was more than just practical concern for the invitee’s physical well-being. The invitation communicated a profound relational commitment, and nothing did so more intimately than an invitation to dine together.
An invitation to one’s table signified an offer of peace, acceptance, protection, and a promise to support and care for the guest. It was a gesture of covenantal friendship. Accepting the meal indicated these things would then be reciprocated. Therefore, the sharing of a meal was a mutual expression between host and guest saying, “I won’t hurt you. I will care for you. You can trust me. I’ve got your back.” To then betray someone with whom you had dined was considered one of the most heinous acts imaginable.
Supper Table
On the cusp of Jesus’s death, we find him sharing a meal with his disciples.
And when the hour came, he reclined at table, and the apostles with him. And when he said to them, “I have earnestly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer. . . . And he took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” And likewise the cup after they had eaten, saying, “This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood.” (Luke 22:14-15, 19-20)
Jesus knew his disciples would see this act of breaking bread together as a sign of his commitment and friendship toward them. He knew his suffering would confuse and confound them. He wanted to reassure them. So he left them with a profound gesture of heavenly hospitality: He broke bread with them and told them to do this meal in remembrance of him. As they partook of this meal, they would see it as a sign of his care, protection, and faithful friendship. It would remind them that though they were lost, he “had their back” and was taking them heavenward to another table (Matt. 26:29).
You and I were lost, too. Dead in our transgressions. And much like my French host offered help and then a seat at his table at his expense, Jesus offers us help and an invitation to his table at his expense.
At the Lord’s Table, we are invited to look back at what has been done for us through Christ’s life, death, and resurrection. Yet at this table we can also look forward to the promise of hospitality that awaits those who are in Christ. When that glorious day comes (by grace alone through faith in Christ) we shall be seated at the Owner’s grand banqueting table with Jesus, reclining and rejoicing.
“Let us rejoice and exult, and give him the glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his Bride has made herself ready… Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb.” (Rev. 19:7,9)
If you’d like to hear more from Jessica on this topic, she taught a Sunday school class on Kingdom-Centered Hospitality that you can listen to here.
Jessica Britt lives in Charlotte, North Carolina, where she attends Uptown Church (PCA) with her husband, Forde, and their three sons. She is the author of From His Heart, Through Mine, to Yours and occasionally blogs at jessicasullivanbritt.blogspot.com about how the Lord and Scripture affect her in life’s mundane and monumental moments.
