Come and Die?
I grew up singing a bluegrass hymn "come and dine". The song speaks of the incredible pleasure of feasting at Jesus' table all the time, an absolutely beautiful picture of the love of God. To this day I love this song. However, over the last decade I've come to the realization that before we can truly find joy in the table spread before us we have to come to the grave. Specifically our own grave. The grave where we place our idols, our selfish desires, our wants. The grave where even our best intentions are laid to rest. Here's the thing, even when we know intellectually the right answers, if we come to the table before us with anything other than complete reliance on God, we will without fail try to make the dinner about us. We will think the dinner is about us and the empire we've created rather than the Kingdom of the one who invited us. The last decade has been about death for me, literal death of mom and dad, my dreams and desires, death to selfishness, death to empire building, death to my inflated ego and sense of self, death to the pulpit and platform, I could go on and on. What I've discovered through this season of death is simple, the food at the table is so much sweeter, more savory, and most importantly, more filling now that the old me has died. Come and dine? Absolutely! Come and die? Definetly. Come to the table empty and leave full.
