R. Michelle Braud

Some of my most treasured memories center around a table. On our back porch, three tables are pushed together to accommodate 14 to 18 people. The meals we have shared there have been nothing short of magical. A bowl of gumbo or peeling crawfish, along with fellowship, brings people together, creates bonds, and reveals the heart of the gospel.  

Jesus also had a special connection with meals. Robert Karris famously stated, “In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus was either going to a meal, at a meal, or coming from a meal.” As we can attest, Jesus’ mission was “to seek and save the lost” (Luke 19:10), and His methodology? One meal at a time (Luke 7:34a). He dined with sinners, prostitutes, outcasts, men and women, the rich and poor, multitudes, and even the Pharisees. One meal at a time, Jesus dismantled social boundaries and religious laws by inviting everyone to His table or by joining them at theirs. Jesus’ table fellowship was so radical that it is not unreasonable to observe that “Jesus got himself killed because of the way he ate.”

When it comes to the Lord’s Supper, it is clear why Jesus’ table holds such significance. In 1 Corinthians 11:17-34, Paul admonishes the Corinthian church for dishonoring the meal by transforming it into a space of division rather than unity. The Lord’s Table is a sacred space that belongs solely to Him. We do not determine who the Host permits to come to the table.

The Problem in Corinth: A Divided Table

In first-century Greco-Roman culture, meals reflected social hierarchy. The wealthy dined in the triclinium—a private banquet room that could hold about a dozen guests—while the less fortunate ate in the atrium, often with whatever was left. The societal norm had infiltrated the Corinthian church’s practice of the Lord’s Supper.

Paul exposes this in his rebuke:

“…when you come together as a church, I hear that divisions exist among you… Therefore when you come together, it is not to eat the Lord’s Supper, for when you eat, each one takes his own supper first; and one goes hungry while another gets drunk. What! Do you not have houses to eat and drink in? Or do you despise the church of God and shame those who have nothing?” (1 Cor. 11:18-22).

The issue was not merely about food. It was about honor—or the lack of it. The Lord’s Supper, intended to be a sign of unity, had become a reenactment of social divisions. Paul was clear: This was not the Lord’s Supper!

Have you ever been invited to dinner at a restaurant, only to arrive and discover there aren’t enough seats at the table? Or, as an adult, have you found yourself seated at the “kids’” table during a Thanksgiving meal with your family? Many of us have faced the humiliation of feeling unimportant, overlooked, and disrespected. Now, imagine experiencing that same feeling at a feast meant to glorify the Lord.

How It Should Look: Christ at the Center

Paul redirects their focus by reminding them of what Jesus did at the Last Supper:

“For I received from the Lord that which I also delivered to you, that the Lord Jesus, on the night when He was betrayed, took bread; and when He had given thanks, He broke it and said, ‘This is My body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of Me.’ In the same way, He also took the cup after supper, saying, ‘This cup is the new covenant in My blood; do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of Me.” (1 Cor. 11:23-25).

It’s important to note that Jesus used ordinary elements—bread and wine, staples of daily life. He wasn’t instituting a ritual of wafers and tiny cups from Amazon. He was embedding himself in their common meals, making every table a place of remembrance. The Agape Feast of the early church was a communal meal, a celebration of gratitude and unity. They sang, prayed, and remembered the work of Christ. The table became a sacred space—Jesus’ presence was there.

Recognizing the Body: A Matter of Honor

Paul’s warning about eating in an “unworthy manner” (1 Cor. 11:27), is often misunderstood. He isn’t speaking about private sin, but about failing to recognize the body of Christ—those gathered under His name. “For the one who eats and drinks, eats and drinks judgment to himself if he does not properly recognize the body” (1 Cor. 11:29). In other words, when we take communion while ignoring the needs, dignity, and worth of our brothers and sisters, we dishonor Christ himself. 

This is not a small matter. Paul states that some in Corinth were experiencing weakness, sickness, and even death because they failed to honor the body (1 Cor. 11:30). God does not take lightly the mistreatment of His people. 

Could it be that they were weak or sick because they did 

not honor the gift within their brother or sister, and as a result, they did not receive healing? 

The Lord’s Table is a celebration of honoring Christ by honoring His people. It calls us to recognize the person across from us as a being made in the image of God, deserving of love and respect.

A Call to Hospitality

Jesus’ table fellowship was radical. It wasn’t about entertaining, but about hospitality—welcoming the outsider, making room for the least, and showing honor where the world does not.

Paul’s final instruction is simple: “So then, my brothers and sisters, when you come together to eat, wait for one another” (1 Cor. 11:33). This is more than etiquette. It is the essence of the gospel. Not one of us is worthy to come to His table. Jesus said, “By this, all people will know that you are my disciples: if you have love for one another” (John 13:35). What if the body of Christ reclaimed this vision? What if our meals—at home and in our congregations—became spaces of radical grace? The world will recognize Jesus not by our eloquence, programs, or theology, but by our love. The gospel pairs wonderfully with French bread and jambalaya!  

Conclusion

As we gather around the table with Jesus at the center, let it signify the Kingdom of God. May it be a sacred space where everyone is valued, loved, and united in Christ. Ultimately, when we break bread, we do more than remember His death; we proclaim His resurrection life among us.

“Whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God” (1 Cor. 10:31). 

Michelle Braud and her husband, Tim, have been married for over 25 years. She is a devoted wife and mother to their four children—Emile, Evan, Eastin, and Estella. Alongside her commitment to family, she is pursuing an MDiv in Biblical Studies at Regent University, where she is passionate about deepening her understanding of the Holy Scriptures and its application for today’s Church.