Lectio
“Christianity is a wedding banquet, not a judicial court.”
— Fr. Richard Rohr, Everything Belongs Podcast
Meditatio
God’s intention was always inclusion, not exclusion. He did not create humanity just so that he could kick us out of the Garden of Eden, exile us from eternity, and condemn us to a life of hardship and death, but so that we could share in the love, beauty, and openness that is Godself. We excluded God. God did not exclude us.
James Finley says, “The whole mystery of the fall is trying to be like God without God is like an estranged state that we find ourself in.” In other words, God created us in the image and likeness of God, and to be in relationship with God, but we tried to cut God out of that relationship. We tried to have our independence and divinity too. But we failed to understand that whatever divinity — or potential for divinity — we have is gifted to us by God’s self-communication of Godself in and as the very essence of our being. That, by rejecting God, by rejecting love and rejecting relationship, we actually reject ourselves. God doesn’t exile us. We exile ourselves.
But God’s invitation to Godself, God’s invitation to love, and God’s invitation to relationship is open-ended. God has set the banquet table, it is overflowing with abundance, and he has left the door open for us to join him, not just for a meal, but for communion — to wed ourselves to the love that has wed itself to us. He has given us his body, his blood, and his very self, and all he asks of us is that we accept this gift.
God’s love is not like a judicial court, looking for reasons to exile us, convict us, or punish us. We do that to ourselves, to each other, and to God. Rather, God’s love is an invitation. It’s an invitation to share in life, to share in love, and to share in God’s very nature. God invites us into eternity with God, to eat and drink of Godself — the bread of life and the living water — if only we are willing to sit at the table and share.
Oratio
Lost in a wilderness
of my own making
wandering alone
hungry
thirsty
tired
I have refused
to eat at your table
to drink from your font
to rest in your bosom
but your invitation stands
your door remains open
the table remains set
for whenever I am ready
to come home
out of these shadows
I have cast upon myself
and into the light
of your abiding love
Contemplatio
In what ways have you exiled yourself from God or your neighbors?
Related Scripture
“And bring the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate; for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!” — Luke 15:23–24 (NRSVCE)
For Further Reading
If you enjoyed this post, you may also like Love Remains: Returning Home to the Love That Never Left You, which explores the parable of the prodigal son as a contemplative reflection on the soul’s search for love and the Father’s invitation home — a natural companion to this post’s themes of self-exile and the table that is always set.
Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity.
Wrestling With God.
Returning To Love.
Leave a Reply