Dinner with Jesus
by Rusty Miller
In a recent Bible class, we were discussing one of the many times Luke tells of Jesus sitting down to a meal with someone. In almost every case, Jesus winds up offending some, if not all of the guests and their host. Mark made the comment that whenever you see someone in the newspaper asked about their fantasy dinner party, it often will include Jesus, and he suggested that maybe we wouldn't be too excited with what Jesus might say at our dinner.
Afterward, as we talked, Mark said he actually saw one person's list which included not only Jesus but Jimmy Johnson as well. We laughed as we imagined what Jesus might have to say to the man who declared to his wife as he left her in Miami, "A college coach needs a wife, a pro coach doesn't."
Still later, as I pondered our discussion alone, it hit me: The point is not what Jesus would have to say to Jimmy Johnson, but what would He have to say to me? What is it about my life that would have Jesus look sadly at me across the table and tell a parable which would cut me to the heart?
That is, after all, what usually happened. We read the parables of Jesus and, with an air of smug self-righteousness, proclaim the Pharisees, lawyers or scribes who caught the brunt of His teaching to be so poor, so misguided, so desperately in need of His most harsh teaching.
Unfortunately, just as the point of examining Jesus at a fantasy dinner is not what He would say to others, the point of the parables is not necessarily what He had to say to scribes, lawyers and Pharisees. What do the parables say to me?
After all, the scribes, lawyers and Pharisees were the religious people of their day. They never expected to be rebuked by the Messiah, and that is one reason they rejected Him. What of my own life? Am I above rebuke? Am I truly doing my best to serve God, or am I one of those who, seeing my neighbor in desperate straits (without the gospel), pass by on the other side? Do I rejoice in His word, or am I one who makes an excuse not to come to His feast?
The fact is, most of us would be terrified if we had really had to sit across the table from the one who knows hearts, but in truth, does He not read our hearts daily? We must realize that, in many ways, the parables are a rebuke to us (religious people) as much as they were to the Pharisees. It is this recognition which draws us to the prayer of the publican of Luke 18, whose only thought was to cry out, eyes cast downward, "God, be merciful to me, the sinner!" (v. 13).
It might compel us to be better if we were to remember, instead of those who are so easy to condemn, to point the words of Jesus, particularly in His parables, at our own selves. Perhaps one day, one long eternal day, we will sit down to dine with our Savior. But it will take the humility which will cause us to keep examining our own lives in the light of His teaching.