Though a place may be set for me to partake in a meal and a blessing is spoken over all the people there and the food spread before us, a place at the table does not mean I am welcomed or desired to be there by all who sit there.
Once I sat around a table with my closest friends and my intimate companions. We were like family. We had walked together many a dusty and deserted road. We had faced together the anger of others, physical sickness, mental illness, hunger, lack of funds and slander. We had faced together laughter with children, miracles on the sea, mourning with the grieving, ascending glory into the clouds and intimate prayer. Teaching and trust, fear and wonder, yes, we’ve shared together all of it.
We sat down together at this table after one of the greatest acts of humility we’ve yet to share. There was as a mix of emotions and thoughts as there were personalities. I felt and heard them all as one by one they were attended to. I also knew what was to come. I also felt the bittersweetness of the moment. We were all characters in a unique set of circumstances.
Around the table, we all were within this unique set of circumstances. The location of this meal was significant. The food and the wine were significant. Each one of us at the table was there by no accident, but by divine design. And I knew as bread was broken, that one of those around me would be the one to sell me out for the glory and notoriety he would receive. There is a lot of irony in this fact and if you ever hear the rest of the story, you will quickly come to understand how far and wide it goes.
The venue, the menu and the guests, all were by divine design. Nonetheless, the thrust of betrayal found its poisoned point deep in my heart. Even the kiss that followed was but a brush of brittle lips and sulphuric breath in comparison.