Room At The Table
Do you remember the lunchroom in elementary school? That moment right before you walked in—heart racing, eyes scanning the crowd—wondering if your friends had saved you a seat? It’s such a universal experience: the longing to belong, the fear of being left out.
I (like many of you, I imagine) still carry echoes of that nervous energy. For me, it was the panic of being a few minutes late and hoping beyond hope that someone had remembered to make space for me. There were always seats technically available, but not necessarily at a table where I felt wanted. And honestly, that fear of not having a place at the table? It doesn’t disappear with age. Many in our world live with that quiet ache every day—the sense that maybe, just maybe, there’s no place where they truly belong.
This is why Romans 14 is so powerful—and why it speaks directly to the kind of church God is calling us to be.
A Table for All
In Romans 14, Paul addresses a church full of beautiful, messy diversity. Picture this: Jews and Gentiles, meat-eaters and vegetarians, Sabbath-observers and every-day-is-the-same types. Each group came with deeply held convictions rooted in tradition, culture, and conscience. And they were trying to follow Jesus together.
Instead of demanding uniformity, Paul calls them to something deeper: unity rooted in love.
“Accept the one whose faith is weak, without quarreling over disputable matters.” (Romans 14:1 NIV)
The word accept here doesn’t just mean “tolerate.” In Greek, it carries the meaning of welcoming warmly—bringing someone close, into your life and community. Not just a polite handshake, but a full-on embrace.
Paul isn’t saying we have to agree on everything. But he is calling us to make space for one another—to create a community where people of different backgrounds, preferences, and even convictions are welcomed, not pushed away.
Grace for Everyone
At Grace, we say it often: “Grace for Everyone. Community for Everyone. Church for Everyone.” And we mean it.
That means you’re welcome here whether you’re 8 or 80. Whether you grew up Anglican, Catholic, Pentecostal—or came to faith yesterday. Whether you vote blue or red, eat tofu or prime rib, wear a suit or jeans to church. You are welcome here not because we all agree, but because Christ has welcomed all of us.
“Welcome one another, therefore, just as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God.” (Romans 15:7 NRSV)
Living in the Tension
Let’s be honest—this isn’t always easy. Paul knows that. That’s why he reminds us again and again not to judge one another on disputable matters. Whether it’s about dietary laws, sacred days, or something as seemingly trivial as laundry on Sunday (true story from my Bible college days!), Paul says:
“Let us therefore make every effort to do what leads to peace and to mutual edification.” (Romans 14:19 NIV)
Make every effort. That’s active. That’s intentional. That’s Christ-like.
This kind of love is costly. It means sometimes laying down our rights so we don’t become a stumbling block for someone else. It means recognizing that our freedom is not more important than another person’s faith.
When I first started preaching, I had one earring. I liked it. My Grandma gave it to me. But I knew there was a beloved older couple in our congregation who couldn’t hear a word I said if I wore it. So I took it out when I preached. Not because I had to—but because I love them. It’s a small thing. But love often shows up in the small things.
Becoming a Beacon
We live in a world that’s drawing more and more lines in the sand. A world that says, “If you’re not like me, you can’t sit with me.” But the church? We’re called to be different. We’re called to set a bigger table.
The early church was known for this. Slave and free, Jew and Gentile, men and women—all gathering as equals, all sharing life and love in the name of Jesus. They didn’t erase their differences—they made room for them.
“In a world that says, ‘If you don’t agree with me, you’re dead to me,’ the church says, ‘Even if we disagree, you belong at my table.’”
Imagine if that’s what the church today became known for. Not for our positions on every hot topic. Not for our political leanings or theological jargon. But for our love.
Your Invitation This Week
So here’s the challenge:
Make some room at your table this week.
- Invite someone to coffee who sees the world differently than you.
- Reach out to a friend you’ve drifted from because of differences.
- Pray for someone whose convictions make you uncomfortable—not that they would change, but that you might.
Because the truth is, there is room enough for all of us. The arms of Jesus are open wide. And the church is at its best when it reflects that wide embrace.
Let’s stop drawing lines. Let’s start pulling up more chairs.
Let’s become a people known for our welcome.
Let’s be Grace for Everyone.
Nichole Nordeman puts it beautifully in her song Please Come:
There is room enough for all of us, please come
And the arms are open wide enough, please come
And our parts are never greater than the sum
This is the heart of the One
Who stands before an open door and bids us, “Come.”
Let’s be that kind of church. Let’s be that kind of people.
Please come. There’s room at the table.