At the King's Table

(Author’s Note: I have personally learned a great deal from allegories through the years, and often use them when teaching my Sunday school class. As part of my journey through Lent, I felt moved to put one down in writing.)


As you walk into the great dining hall you are amazed.

The magnificent hall seems to go on forever.

For all you know it might, for you cannot see the end of it.

The table is equally spectacular.

It, too, seems to go on forever.

The end of it, like the hall, simply disappears from view.

"There is an empty seat over here," you hear someone say.

You look upon the speaker, one of a vast multitude seated at the table, as they point out an empty chair next to them.

You walk over, thank them, and take your seat.

You look up and down the table and spot some very familiar faces, but you seem to know everyone you can see somehow.

Before you can ask yourself how it is that you know everyone here, a plate is set before you.

You are amazed by the meal placed before you.

Others are already enjoying their meal.

The meal in front of you looks so inviting that you simply must taste it.

This is without doubt the best meal you have ever had.

In time, you and the others finish and you are overwhelmed by a new sensation.

Complete and total satisfaction.

Never before have you ever felt this satisfied.

As you are about to discuss this with the one who offered you your seat, you notice someone come into the hall.

As he nears, you realize two things.

First, this man is the head waiter.

Second, he carries with him the bill for the entire meal.

This is something you certainly had not counted on.

The waiter is getting uncomfortably close to you.

Discomfort turns to something akin to panic when he stops at your seat and places the bill alongside your now empty plate.

What to do?

You certainly could not afford such a meal for yourself. let alone everyone else in the great hall.

Soon, it appears that all eyes are on you.

As you try to think of a way to explain your inability to pay you realize that it is not you they are looking at.

They are looking behind you.

You turn in your seat and look up into the kindest face you have ever seen.

The individual with the kind face looks at you knowingly and smiles.

He reaches for the bill and that is when you see the nail scarred hand.

As He picks up the bill, you turn to face Him again.

You want to say something, but mere words are not enough.

He places His other hand reassuringly on your shoulder.

It, like the other, is nail scarred.

He smiles and says, "It’s okay. You see, My Father wanted Me to pay for everyone that you see here. That means He wanted me to pay for you too."

Words cannot express the gratitude you feel to this man with the kind face, the warm smile, and the nail scarred hands,

The seeds of this allegory were planted years ago when I read of David’s act of kindness to a crippled Mephibosheth.

2 Samuel 9:13 (NET) - Mephibosheth was living in Jerusalem, for he was a regular guest at the king’s table. But both his feet were crippled.

David performed this act of kindness for the sake of Mephibosheth’s father, Jonathan.

Mephibosheth was crippled by a fall as a child, yet David made sure he had a place at the king’s table.

We are crippled from a different kind of fall.

One that goes back to Eden.

As we continue on our journey through Lent, let us be mindful of the kindness Jesus showed us as He obeyed His Father’s will to the cross and beyond.

We cannot earn salvation.

Neither do we deserve it.

Someone had to pay the price we could never hope to pay.

As the hymn reminds us, "Jesus Paid It All!"


Blessings,
Jim Pokorny
The Other Brother Jim
Look for me at http://faithfulfeetteam.blogspot.com/ on Friday, March 1, 2013.
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