In II Samuel 9 there is a wonderful story I’ve read a few times and passed right on by. King David brought Jonathan’s son (the former king Saul’s grandson) into the palace and gave him a place of honor at his table. This was unusual because, as a member of the antagonistic former king’s family, he should be dead. But my pastor pointed something out that I had never caught before. There was another reason Mephibosheth shouldn’t be at that table.
As is stated more than once (and rather awkwardly in verse 13), Mephibosheth was lame in both feet. See, nothing imperfect is allowed at the king’s table. It seems that the point of the story may be that Mephibosheth was allowed to dine with the king, even though he was imperfect, even though he didn’t deserve it, even though he hadn’t earned it.
Here’s the thing… Sometimes I get so buried under my junk that all I can see is my imperfections my sins. Condemnation sets in and I wonder why I bother to pray because, with the mess I’ve made, God’s not going to listen to me anyway, let alone answer me. Ever have those days when you just know God loves you less than He ever has before? When you’re sure you’re about two seconds away from buying an all-expenses-paid trip on the eternal damnation express? Guess what. We deserve that. What we don’t deserve is a seat at the King’s table. We have two lame feet. We ‘re imperfect. We haven’t earned it.
Yet we’re there. Lame feet and all. Just like David’s men carried Mephibosheth and all of his brokenness to the table, God sent Jesus to carry us and all of our brokenness to the table, where we don’t belong. And He will never ask us to leave. This overwhelms me to the point that there aren’t words, which is why I’m really glad Leeland said it for me: