“God loves each of us as if there were only one of us,” – Saint Augustine.
There is something sacred about a table. Most of our lives’ most meaningful moments happen around one—laughing with friends, celebrating birthdays, grieving losses, or sharing simple meals that somehow feel holy. It’s no surprise, then, that God chooses a table as one of the clearest places to reveal His love. When we come to God’s table—whether we’re talking about the Lord’s Supper or simply the daily invitation into His presence—we discover a love deeper, wider, and more personal than we ever expected.
At God’s table, love is not a theory. It is something tasted. Jesus did not simply say, “I love you.” He demonstrated it by taking bread, breaking it, and saying, “This is my body, given for you.” The table becomes a reminder that His love is not distant or abstract—it is sacrificial, embodied, poured out. His love meets us not in our ideal selves, but in our real selves: weary, distracted, inconsistent, and often unsure of our worth. And still He says, “Come. There is a seat here for you.”
When you sit at God’s table, you don’t bring your résumé. You bring your hunger. God is not impressed by your strength, but moved by your need. His table is not set for the perfect but for the honest, not for those who have earned it but for those who know they can’t. Every piece of bread, every cup lifted, whispers the same truth: You are loved not because of what you have done, but because of what Christ has done for you.
God’s table is also a place of belonging. In a world that often divides, labels, and ranks people, Jesus gathers all kinds—saints and sinners, insiders and outsiders, the loud and the quiet, the confident and the brokenhearted. At His table, we are equals. We are family. We are welcomed, wanted, and woven into His story. Love is not only something we receive there; it is something we share.
And finally, God’s table points forward. It reminds us that His love is not limited to today’s struggles or yesterday’s regrets. Communion is a preview of the great feast to come—the day when God’s love will be fully seen, fully experienced, fully unhindered by sin, sorrow, or separation. Every time we gather at His table now, we rehearse the future joy that awaits us.
So come to God’s table with open hands. Come with gratitude, with longing, with hope. Come knowing that His love is not rationed—it is abundant. Come, remembering that the One who invites you is the One who gave Himself for you. At God’s table, love is offered, love is restored, and love is made real again.
At His table, you don’t just learn about God’s love. You encounter it. And it changes you.
Discussion Questions:
- Which part of Jesus’ sacrifice at the table reminds you most that His love is not based on your worthiness?
- How does focusing on Jesus’s worth change your perspective on what you “bring to the table” in your relationship with God?