The Table of Christ Has No Reserved Seats

“Then Levi held a great banquet for Jesus at his house, and a large crowd of tax collectors and others were eating with them.” — Luke 5:29

Jesus didn’t eat with the righteous. He shared meals with those the religious world called sinners. He sat down with the excluded, the scandalized, and the misunderstood. And in doing so, He revealed something radical about the Kingdom of God: there are no reserved seats at His table.

When Jesus called Levi, a tax collector despised by his community, He didn’t first demand repentance, right belief, or moral reform. He simply said, “Follow Me.” (Luke 5:27) That invitation shattered the religious expectations of the day  and it still does.

Too often, the modern church has forgotten this. We’ve turned the open table of Christ into a gated community, by deciding who is “worthy” to belong. LGBTQ believers, divorced people and those with doubts.  All too often they  hear a subtle message: “you can sit near the table, but not at it.” That is, if they are even invited at all.  

But the Gospel says otherwise.
At Jesus’ table, belonging comes before behavior. Love precedes labels. Grace comes before growth.  Everyone is free and deserves to hear the Gospel.  

When Christ broke bread, He wasn’t just offering a meal; He was proclaiming a new world order, one where every person bears the image of God and is welcomed as family. The table is not for the pure, but for the hungry.

If the church wants to be Christlike, it must reclaim that radical hospitality. The mission of the Gospel is not to guard the table, but to set more places.

As a chaplain, I’ve learned that presence matters more than perfection. People don’t need to be fixed before they can be loved. They need to be loved before they can heal. And in every encounter; whether in hospitals, homes, or streets, I see Christ pulling out another chair.

So if you’ve ever been told you don’t belong, please know this: Jesus already saved you a seat.
There are no reservations in the Kingdom. There is only grace.

Prayer

Lord Jesus, break down the walls that divide us.
Teach us to welcome as You welcomed and to love without reservation,
to set tables of grace where all may be fed. Amen.

What If the Church Looked More Like Jesus?

“When He saw the crowds, He had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.” — Matthew 9:36

What if the church looked more like Jesus?
Not like a brand, a building, or a belief system, but like the living Christ who walked among the broken, the doubting, and the outcast.

When Jesus saw people hurting, He didn’t lecture them. He didn’t ask for credentials or moral records. He was moved with compassion. That’s the word the Gospels use over and over-compassion. Not fear, not suspicion, not superiority and not judging.

Somewhere along the way, the church began to lose that center. We became gatekeepers of grace instead of its messengers. We drew up statements of who’s welcome, who’s not, who’s “biblical” enough, who’s “repentant” enough—forgetting that none of us came to the table by merit.  There is no unforgivable sin.  

If the church truly looked like Jesus, it would not be known for who it excludes but for who it embraces. It would welcome the ones religion has turned away: the LGBTQ believer longing to belong, the divorced parent trying to rebuild, the doubter who still shows up to pray.

Jesus did not come to start a club for the clean. He came to build a home for the broken.

And that home still stands open.

When the church begins to look like Jesus again; when it chooses compassion over correctness, presence over pride, and grace over gatekeeping, it will rediscover its power. The world doesn’t need a louder church; it needs a kinder one. A church that sees people the way Jesus saw them: harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.

To look like Jesus means to love without exception. To heal instead of divide. To feed the hungry, clothe the lonely, and lift the ones who’ve been told they don’t belong.

That’s not compromise; it’s the Gospel.

Prayer

Lord, help us to look like You.
Let our hearts be moved with compassion where there is judgment,
mercy where there is fear,
and welcome where there has been exclusion.
Make Your church a reflection of Your love. Amen.