READING:
Luke 22:24–30

A Seat at the Table

I wonder what the phrase “having a seat at the table” means to you?

You might think it has to do with parties or weddings… and looking at the seating plan wondering who you might be sitting next to and knowing that feeling of relief of finding yourself beside someone with whom conversation might flow naturally. But the phrase “a seat at the table” is usually used about having influence. Often in politics, business, and public life it means having access to where decisions are made. It’s not just about being in the room or the meeting, but about being heard.

For those historically marginalised, a seat at the table symbolises representation, dignity, and the chance to shape the agenda. But here lies the catch: power-holders can sometimes offer a seat without changing the rules of the table. The setting remains hierarchical, the powerful remain central and in charge, and the newcomers are expected to fit into someone else’s pattern and social norms.

Hidden Figures

I wonder if you have watched the film Hidden Figures? It tells the story of three brilliant Black women mathematicians working at NASA’s space programme in the 1960s. Though their gifts and expertise were essential to the work of getting humans into space, they were excluded from key meetings because of their race and gender… and their ideas were not heard.

In the film there is a turning point when one of the women, Katherine Johnson, is finally allowed into the high-level briefing room, where the flight trajectory for John Glenn’s mission is being decided. Her presence is not symbolic. She was there to contribute, to change the outcome. That moment captures the real meaning of “a seat at the table”: moving from the margins to the centre, transforming the conversation itself.

Perhaps this is not far from what Jesus envisions in the Bible reading today. We heard the telling of a different story. Jesus doesn’t simply invite people to be present and rearrange the seating plan; he changes the nature of the table itself.

The Tables of Empire

In the ancient world, banquets were not neutral events, and the people listening to Jesus would have been very aware of that. They would have known that banquets and grand meals were displays of power and status. The honoured guests sat closest to the host, and every place at the table signalled worth and hierarchy. They would also have known the role of slaves and servants at such meals… these people would never have been invited to sit down and eat with the guests.

Just before the words of the Gospel that we heard today, we have the well-known story of the disciples gathered with Jesus at the Last Supper. It’s a vivid description of that meal and even the preparations made for that upper room gathering. From the disciples’ questions, we can deduce that they still thought of meals in terms of great banquets, where the most important sit in the places of honour – each one probably wanting to sit next to Jesus and have their status confirmed.

But Jesus turns the image inside out: “I am among you as one who serves.”
A statement that must have challenged and unsettled all their cultural values and beliefs. And when the story of the Last Supper is told in John’s Gospel, chapter 13, the writer shows us Jesus not only speaking of service but embodying it – taking the role of a servant, kneeling to wash the disciples’ feet.

The kingdom table, Jesus insists, is not like the tables of empire. Here, greatness is not measured by proximity to power but by the capacity to serve. The host becomes the servant. The honoured places belong to those who make room for others.

Being With at the Table

Jesus’ statement was so radical. He was not offering us a temporary strategy to get through life . Rather he was showing us what God is like. God is not a distant monarch pulling strings, but one who chooses to be with us.

When Jesus says, “I am among you as one who serves,” he is revealing God’s eternal nature. The incarnation is not simply a response to sin, but the definitive declaration that God’s way is always with-ness, presence, accompaniment.

The Eucharistic table, the communion table, becomes the living symbol of this. We don’t earn a place at it. We don’t just get placed on the seating plan. We receive bread and wine as sheer gift. In that moment, we discover that our worth comes not from achievement but from belonging – from being with Christ, and with one another.

Power as Vulnerability

Former Archbishop Rowan Williams invites us to linger on the paradox. In human society, the one at the table is greater than the servant. But Jesus says: “I am among you as one who serves.” For Williams, this reveals the strange glory of God’s self-emptying – the God whose power is disclosed in vulnerability, whose authority takes the form of the washing of feet.

Holiness, he often says, is learning to be where Christ is. And Christ is here at the table, not grasping at privilege but kneeling with a towel. To follow him is to share that posture: to discover that true strength is found not in domination but in love that gives itself away.

The Table Transformed

So today we are asked to think through the idea that Jesus doesn’t abolish the table – he transforms it. It remains a place of intimacy, celebration, and covenant. But its guest list is radically expanded. No one is left at the edge. No one is merely tolerated. All are co-heirs, participants, vital to the feast.

This table is political and deeply theological: it challenges systems that exclude and hierarchies that wound. It is pastoral: it heals those who have been silenced and lifts up the lowly. And it is theological: it reveals the very character of God, whose glory is service, whose life is with us.

The Challenge for Us

So what does this mean for us today?

• First, it means re-examining the tables we set – in our churches, our communities, our groups, our politics. Who is missing? Who is present but not heard? Do our decision-making spaces mirror the “tables of empire,” or do they reflect the serving presence of Christ?
• Second, it means recognising that belonging at Jesus’ table is not entitlement. It is invitation. Those who have power are called to yield it. Those who have been voiceless are called to speak. Those who have been invisible are called to be seen.
• Third, it means recognising that the Eucharist, the communion service, is more than a ritual. Each time we break bread and share the cup, we practise the kingdom. We rehearse a community where greatness is found in service, where love is the organising principle, and where the feast is incomplete until all are gathered in.

A Vision of abundance

This meal and table speak of abundance: the belief that God has already given us everything we need. That vision sits at the heart of this passage. There is room enough at Christ’s table for everyone. The challenge is not to guard our seat, but to make space for others.

So the question comes to us today: in our homes, our churches, our workplaces, do we set our tables like Jesus? Or do we cling to the seating plans of empire, where honour and exclusion still play their games?

The kingdom is not a far-off dream. It is tasted here and now, each time we sit at Christ’s table, each time we dare to live as though service is greatness, each time we say to another: “Come – the feast is not complete without you.”

photo credit : Karolina Grabowska, Unsplash.com