Table Fellowship with God

Revelation 3 : 14 - 20

Today, we are going to talk about eating. Usually, we place the idea of “eating” in a secular realm, as though it has nothing to do with liturgy, Musikgottesdienst, or anything sacred. However, today we are going to eat and drink.

The hymn we sang earlier, “Praise to the Lord, the Almighty” by Joachim Neander, was originally sung in the countryside—perhaps during a picnic. But now, it is sung within sacred settings, as part of the liturgy, not only in Reformed churches but even in the Roman Catholic tradition (you can find it in their hymnals).

Similarly, we often treat eating as a purely personal or leisurely activity—something centered on taste, preference, and individual enjoyment, unrelated to God. But that wasn’t the case in Jesus’ time. Eating carried deep meaning. It wasn’t about what you ate, but with whom you ate. Your table companions revealed your identity and your fellowship. Sharing a meal meant belonging—it showed which fellowship you were part of.

We have heard Psalm 23 in the offering of praise (Gott ist mein Hirt – The Lord is My Shepherd). If you notice, there is also the topic of “eating” in verse 5: “You prepare a table before me…" Even in this passage, eating is not just an individual act, but something sacred and communal—happening in the presence of God.

This shows us how important it is to God with whom and how we eat. It’s never merely a private, personal act—it’s about fellowship. In Revelation 3:20, we read that Jesus stands at the door and knocks, waiting to be invited in so He can dine with us. He desires table fellowship with us. It’s interesting that the writer uses the metaphor of Jesus “knocking” on the door. He doesn’t break it down. He doesn’t force His way in—though, of course, He is powerful enough to do so. But He waits. He wants us to open the door. This image echoes Song of Solomon 5:2: “Listen, my beloved is knocking: ‘Open to me, my darling…’”

This doesn’t mean that Jesus is weak or needs our mercy. Instead, it shows that He wants a relationship based on love. When you love someone, you don’t need to show off your power or force them to love you. Jesus wants to have a loving relationship with us—not a relationship like master and slave, but a personal and mutual one.

When we read the full context of the letter to the church in Laodicea, we see that opening the door is not something to take for granted. Not everyone responds to the knocking. Some ignore it. Some cannot even hear it.

The church in Laodicea was powerful and prosperous (verse 17), but it had a major problem—it was lukewarm. Not hot, not cold—just in the middle. Isn’t that a picture of much of Christianity today? Not hot, not cold—just indifferent. Lukewarm. Returning to the metaphor of eating and drinking: lukewarm water is useless. You can’t make good tea or coffee with lukewarm water. If you want a refreshing cold drink, lukewarm won’t do. Lukewarm is ineffective, unappealing—neither one thing nor the other.

The Laodiceans were unaware of their lukewarm spiritual condition because of their material wealth. They saw prosperity as a sign of God’s blessing. But this led them to self-sufficiency. They became complacent. They thought they had everything they needed, and therefore assumed they were also spiritually rich.

Statistics show that many people in third world countries tend to be more religious than those in prosperous countries. Some might say, “That’s because their life is not really successful, and that’s why they need God.” But such a statement is deeply unkind—especially coming from fellow Christians.

According to Scripture, those who believe they are self-sufficient—who feel they lack nothing—are less likely to seek God. They assume the church is only for those who are weak, discouraged, or in crisis. But here we see how self-satisfaction, independence, and distance from God go hand in hand.

Blessed are we when we recognize our spiritual poverty—when we are vulnerable enough to acknowledge our weakness, sinfulness, and imperfection. Because in that place of humility, there is hope. Hope that we might hear the gentle knocking of Jesus at the door of our hearts.

May God bless us. (G.N.S)