In the Spring of 2020, when much of the world felt shut down, I was asked by my family to officiate for the funeral of my Great-Aunt Janice. Because of gathering restrictions that were in place at the time, the funeral was going to be very small. We were limited by the funeral home to under 10 people, including me. To be honest, it felt like a sad way to say goodbye because so many of the people who loved her were unable to be present.
I have always considered it a privilege to officiate at funerals. Many people assume that would be a part of my job that I don't like, but for some reason, I have always considered it a privilege to be the person who was given the opportunity to speak on behalf of a family to honor the life and legacy of the deceased.
The funeral for my Aunt Janice was in Scranton, Pennsylvania which is a couple of hours from where I live. As I drove there, I had a lot of time by myself to think, and one particular thought kept coming to mind. My Aunt Janice's father was John N. Stange, Sr., the man my grandfather, father, son, and myself are all named after. And here I was, John N. Stange IV being called upon to officiate for the funeral of my great-grandfather's daughter.
As a father myself, I kept thinking about the fact that many decades ago, Aunt Janice was the original John Stange's little girl. He would hold her on his lap, read to her, play games with her, and let her help him around his grocery store in Scranton's East Mountain neighborhood.
As I prepared to speak, I kept thinking about the fact that this wasn't just an opportunity to honor my aunt. This was also an opportunity to honor my great-grandfather, the man I'm named after. And I wanted to do a good job honoring the life and memory of his little girl.
Have you ever decided to do something because you knew it would have pleased someone who is now long gone? In 2 Samuel 9, David found himself in that exact position. In the years prior to his ascendency to the throne, David had a best friend named Jonathan. Jonathan was no longer living, but David wanted to honor him and his family. Jonathan was the son of King Saul, and David was closer to him than anyone else in his life.
Back in the days when Saul was trying to kill David, Jonathan helped protect him. As he did so, he accepted the fact that the day would come when David would be king, and he made a covenant with David, saying, "If I am still alive, show me the steadfast love of the Lord, that I may not die; and do not cut off your steadfast love from my house forever, when the Lord cuts off every one of the enemies of David from the face of the earth.” And Jonathan made a covenant with the house of David, saying, “May the Lord take vengeance on David's enemies.” (1 Samuel 20:14-16)
By the time we get to 2 Samuel 9, those days had long since passed. Both Saul and Jonathan were dead, and David was thinking back to an earlier season of life and the promises he made to Jonathan. In the midst of his contemplation, David asked, “Is there still anyone left of the house of Saul, that I may show him kindness for Jonathan's sake?” (2 Samuel 9:1)
David was told that Jonathan's son Mephibosheth was still living, but he was crippled in both of his feet. Earlier in the book of 2 Samuel, we're told how that injury occurred.
““Jonathan, the son of Saul, had a son who was crippled in his feet. He was five years old when the news about Saul and Jonathan came from Jezreel, and his nurse took him up and fled, and as she fled in her haste, he fell and became lame. And his name was Mephibosheth.” ”
David sent for Mephibosheth and had him brought before him. Historically, kings have had a habit of executing the descendants of rival kings upon replacing them, so I'm pretty confident Mephibosheth was quite nervous about being summoned. And as he appeared before David, we're told that he bowed down, humbled himself, and called himself both a servant and a dead dog. He wanted to make it abundantly clear to David that he didn't consider himself worthy of standing before him, and I'm sure he also feared that if he came across arrogantly in any way, his life might be taken from him on the spot.
But it wasn't David's intention to harm Mephibosheth. On the contrary, out of his love and respect for Mephibosheth's deceased father Jonathan, David wanted to bless him.
“And David said to him, “Do not fear, for I will show you kindness for the sake of your father Jonathan, and I will restore to you all the land of Saul your father, and you shall eat at my table always.” ”
Could you imagine being Mephibosheth in that moment as David pronounced this blessing? Mephibosheth had lived a challenging life. He lost his father when he was a child. In the process of being cared for by his nurse, he was permanently injured. And I would suspect that he may have always wondered if the day would come when the king would decide to take some form of retribution against him because of his lineage. And yet here he was being shown favor by the king instead.
“Then the king called Ziba, Saul’s servant, and said to him, “All that belonged to Saul and to all his house I have given to your master’s grandson. And you and your sons and your servants shall till the land for him and shall bring in the produce, that your master’s grandson may have bread to eat. But Mephibosheth your master’s grandson shall always eat at my table.” Now Ziba had fifteen sons and twenty servants. Then Ziba said to the king, “According to all that my lord the king commands his servant, so will your servant do.” So Mephibosheth ate at David’s table, like one of the king’s sons.”
With one quick sentence, Mephibosheth went from living at a distance from the king to eating at his table like one of his own sons. He went from obscurity to being a wealthy landowner whose fields would be farmed by someone else, yet he would receive the produce and the profit. It's amazing how a life can be changed drastically over the course of just one day.
I don't know if it occurred to you while reading the account of Mephibosheth's experiences, but this is exactly what the Lord desires to do for us. He delights to take lost and lame people and give them a seat at His table. He loves to look at people who have nothing to offer Him and bless them in spite of that.
The gift of salvation and new life through Jesus Christ is an amazing thing. God offers us this gift, not for His benefit, but for ours. There isn't anything He needed that He didn't already have. There isn't anything we could offer Him that He couldn't have spoken into existence without our help. Yet in His compassion, He offers us an honored seat at His table.
Jesus gave us a picture of what it looks like when we model the example God has set for us...
“He said also to the man who had invited him, “When you give a dinner or a banquet, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, lest they also invite you in return and you be repaid. But when you give a feast, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you. For you will be repaid at the resurrection of the just.” ”
We cannot truly repay our Heavenly Father for the goodness He has blessed us with through His Son, Jesus Christ. But we can follow His example. As men and women who are grateful for His willingness to reach into our lives of spiritual poverty and infirmity, and make us rich in spiritual blessings and honor, we can start reaching into the lives of others, in Jesus' name. We do this when we model the gospel, share its message, and serve someone else for Christ's glory.
I see a great example of this in the lives of my friends Fred and Deb. They grew up together in Wisconsin, got married young, moved to Florida to pastor a church, raised a family together, adopted several children, and continue to be a blessing to those the Lord sends their way.
Recently, they learned that the foster care system in their community was overwhelmed with needs. One of the needs they had was for stable families to be willing to allow temporarily displaced children to live with them. Fred and Deb said they were available to help, and very soon after twin 14-year-olds, a boy and a girl, were sent to live with them for 30 days while their mother finished serving a brief prison sentence.
Fred and Deb soon learned that these children had never met their father. They didn't even know his name or where he lived, but they thought about him all the time. As their month-long placement stretched on, it became clear to Fred that the boy in particular was latching on to him. He wanted to do everything Fred did. If Fred was carrying heavy things, he wanted to help. If Fred went shopping at a hardware store, he wanted to come. At the end of the month when their mother was about to be released, the siblings told Fred and Deb that they didn't want to leave.
I don't know what you feel when you hear a story like that, but one of the emotions I certainly feel is gratefulness that our Lord looks with compassion upon spiritual orphans like us and assures us that we have a home with him forever. He's the Father who will never leave, and His table is open to anyone who believes. Regardless of background, ethnicity, or social status, anyone who will trust in Jesus and accept the sacrificial atonement He accomplished for them on the cross, will be given a seat at the banquet table in the kingdom of God.
““And people will come from east and west, and from north and south, and recline at table in the kingdom of God. And behold, some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last.” ”
In his book, "Your Place at God's Table," Max Lucado shares this experience...
Some months ago I was late to catch a plane out of the San Antonio airport. I wasn’t terribly late, but I was late enough to be bumped and have my seat given to a stand-by passenger.
When the ticket agent told me that I would have to miss the flight, I put to work my best persuasive powers.
“But the flight hasn’t left yet.”
“Yes, but you got here too late.”
“I got here before the plane left; is that too late?”
“The regulation says you must arrive ten minutes before the flight is scheduled to depart. That was two minutes ago.”
“But, ma’am,” I pleaded, “I’ve got to be in Houston by this evening.”
She was patient but firm. “I’m sorry, sir, but the rules say passengers must be at the gate ten minutes before scheduled departure time.”
“I know what the rules say,” I explained. “But I’m not asking for justice; I’m asking for mercy.”
She didn’t give it to me.
But God does. Even though by the “book” I’m guilty, by God’s love I get another chance. Even though by the law I’m indicted, by mercy I’m given a fresh start.
“For it is by grace you have been saved…not by works, so that no one can boast.”
No other world religion offers such a message. All other demand the right performance, the right sacrifice, the right chant, the right ritual, the right séance or experience. Theirs is a kingdom of trade-offs and barterdom. You do this, and God will give you that.
The result? Either arrogance or fear. Arrogance if you think you’ve achieved it, fear if you think you haven’t.
Christ’s kingdom is just the opposite. It is a kingdom for the poor. A kingdom where membership is granted, not purchased. You are placed into God’s kingdom. You are “adopted.” And this occurs not when you do enough, but when you admit you can’t do enough. You don’t earn it; you simply accept it. As a result, you serve, not out of arrogance or fear, but out of gratitude.
Mephibosheth was grateful to be given a seat at the king's table that he didn't deserve. Through Jesus, we're given a seat at the King's table as well. We came broken, lame, and with a disgraced family name, but He heals us, stands us up straight, and gives us His name as our heritage forever.
© John Stange, 2023
