God does not invite us to His table to observe Him, but to commune with Him.— A. W. Tozer
The essence of the gospel is that we are invited to sit at God’s table, not because we are worthy, but because Christ is.— Timothy Keller
To dwell with God is to remain in His presence, but Scripture reveals that His desire goes even further. He does not only call us to stay with Him; He invites us to share life with Him. The language of dwelling naturally leads us to the picture of a table, where presence becomes fellowship and nearness becomes communion.
What seemed like a moment of awe became a moment of fellowship. God was not only revealing His glory; He was extending His table.
That moment on the mountain was a foreshadowing, a glimpse of a God who desires not just reverence from afar, but relationship up close.
This thread runs consistently through Scripture. When Christ came, He did not keep His distance. He sat at tables, broke bread, and shared meals with those who followed Him. In His final hours, He gathered His disciples around a table once more. And even now, the invitation continues.
All of this points toward a final, glorious fulfillment, the marriage supper of the Lamb, where communion with Him will be complete and unbroken.
We begin to grasp the weight of this invitation when we consider what it means to dine with earthly royalty. Such moments are rare, significant, and often life altering. When the Queen of Sheba came to see Solomon, the experience of his table overwhelmed her; it exceeded every report she had heard.
Then there is Mephibosheth. He was the son of Jonathan, grandson of King Saul, a man with no standing, living in obscurity and unable to help himself. By every expectation, he had reason to fear the king rather than approach him. Yet King David sent for him, not because he had earned favor, but because of a covenant made with his father. Mephibosheth came trembling, fell on his face, and instead of judgment, received kindness. From that day, he ate continually at the king’s table, like one of the king’s own sons. A place he did not deserve became his place of belonging.
These moments resonate because something within us understands the value of proximity to greatness. If given the opportunity to dine with a king or a person of great influence, we would rearrange our schedules, travel great distances, and prepare ourselves carefully. We instinctively recognize that such invitations are rare, and that what happens at that table matters.
But there is a greater table set before us.
The prophets saw it, a feast prepared by the Lord Himself, rich and abundant beyond measure. Revelation speaks of it again, a wedding supper, not for a select few, but for all who respond to the invitation. This is not poetic imagery alone; it is the culmination of God’s desire from the beginning, a people gathered near, not as spectators, but as participants in His presence.
And yet, this invitation carries something even more profound than any earthly parallel. At a king’s banquet, you are one among many guests. But when God invites you, the invitation is deeply personal. The King of Kings, who holds all things together, desires fellowship with you, not as part of a crowd, but as one who is known and welcomed.
At every royal table, there are guests and there is family. Guests come for a moment; family belongs. Guests are invited occasionally; family has a seat that remains. And this is where the invitation of God becomes astonishing. He is not calling us to visit occasionally, but to belong continually. He is not offering a passing experience, but a place.
This is the heart of the gospel: not merely that we are forgiven, but that we are brought near; not only that we are redeemed, but that we are received. A table has been set, a place has been prepared, and the invitation has gone out.
So the question that remains is simple, yet searching. If we would sacrifice time, comfort, and convenience to sit for even a short while at the table of an earthly king, how will we respond to the invitation of the King of Kings?
There is a seat prepared for you. The table is ready. The invitation stands.
Will you come, and will you remain?