Focusing the Gospel Around the Table is Still Important Today
J.R. Briggs
November 26, 2024
“Food is just fuel for your body.”
When the raw vegan enthusiast in my community said it I knew that wasn’t right.
I thought of all the great meals shared with family and friends around tables for Thanksgivings, Christmas Eves, and Easter afternoons – among others. I recalled the verse: “Taste and see that the Lord is good.” And I realized that if this was God’s vision for food, then he would have designed our bodies with built-in IV ports where we would hook up pouches of food to our sides and let it drip in slowly to our bloodstreams. And Jesus wouldn’t have given us the greatest experiential metaphor of communion around the table in fellowship with others if it was merely physical and transactional in nature.
I get his point: what we put into our bodies matters. Food is for much more than just physical energy. It’s also about connection, bonding, and relationship. Storytelling and laughing and crying and interacting. Like former U.S. President Ronald Reagan said, all great change in America begins at the dinner table. But I’ll offer a rejoinder: all great change – no matter the country – begins at the dinner table.
The U.S. Surgeon General, Dr. Vivek Murthy, has declared loneliness as a public health crisis and an epidemic. 30 percent of adults say they feel lonely., with 10 percent reporting loneliness every day. 60 years ago the average dinner time was 90 minutes; today it’s less than 12. We are more connected to our devices and less connected to others.
Almost twenty five years ago political scientist Robert Putnam wrote the popular book Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community. Over the summer, the New York Times interviewed him, inquiring if he saw this crisis of loneliness coming. He stressed the idea of “social capital,” saying it comes in two forms: bonding and bridging. Bonding ties us to others like us and bridging ties us to people who are different from us.
Meals together with others at tables have the transformative power to do both. They bond us to other people in our church; they bridge us to connect with others who aren’t yet connected to faith. As my next-door neighbor says when we’re trying to find a time to connect for a meal, “Everybody’s gotta eat.”
Coffee tables, lunch tables, high top bar tables, card tables, dinner tables – all have the intent to bring us together with others over food and/or drink. It was Len Sweet who wrote in Tablet to Table that Jesus was killed for his table manner and his table company. Later he stated that the gospel message was Jesus eating good food with bad people. In fact, you’d be hard pressed to find any gathering in the New Testament that didn’t involve some sort of table.
And as Ian Simkins, lead pastor of teaching at The Bridge Church
in Nashville, shared with me, the table is the centerpiece by which the gospel is expressed. The church has moved to prioritize the table by asking some key questions: What if we reclaimed the table? What if our tables weren’t for just feeding, but for forming? What if, at the table, foes became friends? What if, every time we sat down, we prayed, “at this table as it is in heaven”? What if we brought the gospel back to the table? These are the questions that must become front and center for the church in North America in the days ahead. In fact, you can view the church’s creative and compelling videos on Instagram here
and here.
Americans eat, on average, 21 meals a week. Think for a moment: how many meals did you share with others this week? How many meals did you eat alone this week? How many people did you share with those who weren’t your immediate family members? How many of those were with people who are not followers of Jesus?
What if the greatest advancement of the gospel in the days ahead occurred not in our churches, but around tables?

“When God works in us nothing is useless, and nothing is spared.” - Jeannine Brown, Carla Dahl and Wendy Corbin Reuschling, Becoming Whole and Holy “There is no circumstance, no trouble, no testing, that can ever touch me until, first of all, it has gone past God and past Christ, right through to me. If it has come that far, it has come with great purpose, which I may not understand at the moment.” - Alan Redpath Here's something I've noticed about people as they get older: they tend to go one of two ways. They either get sweeter with age or they get crankier. They grow wiser and more like Jesus, or they grow bitter and more like the worst version of themselves. That's because life is formation. Everything we do and everything we go through shapes us one way or the other, mostly depending on how we respond to what happens to us, whether it's extraordinary or completely ordinary. Ministry works the same way. I've watched leaders come out of nearly identical trials in completely different shape. Some come out stronger. Others come out deeply wounded, discouraged, and ready to quit. The difference usually comes down to where they see God in the middle of the struggle, absent or present, and what questions they ask about it. Some ask, "God, why is this happening to me?" Others ask, "God, what could you want to form in me through this?" Both views of God will shape us, and so will both questions. They just shape us in very different directions. In my experience, the most common sin in church leadership is an obsession with numbers and results, paired with neglect of our own souls. On top of that, we rarely stop to notice how those numbers and results, and how ministry itself, are shaping us. So here's my suggestion: stop working so hard to develop your ministry and start noticing that your ministry is developing you. How you handle the realities of church leadership will determine not only what your church becomes but what you become. Leadership and ministry will form you. The only question is: into what? One tool God uses: the fishbowl Some people hesitate to become a pastor because it opens them up to scrutiny, and now and then to outright criticism. When I was a young leader, I hated the "fishbowl effect" of ministry. Everyone was watching me, and my mistakes seemed to count for a lot more than anyone else's. It felt deeply unfair that flaws that wouldn't even register at most people's jobs could cost me my job, my reputation, and my community. Never mind that maybe it bothered me so much because I had such a generous supply of those flaws. After years of living under the steady gaze of critics and cranks, I see the fishbowl differently. These days I actually welcome it. Richard Baxter, a Puritan pastor in the 1600s, put it this way: “While you are as lights set upon a hill, think not to lie hid... do your work as those that remember that the world looks on them... ready to make the worst of all... and to make faults where they cannot find them.”[1] Baxter understood that anyone who calls others to live like Jesus is going to get called out when they don't. His advice? Live like the world is watching, because it is. Some people in your life are ready to yell "Hypocrite!" at the first opportunity, to point out failings they share themselves, and, as Baxter says, even to invent faults when they can't find real ones. And Baxter's fishbowl had a few neighbors peering over the fence. Ours has a livestream, a comment section, and someone screenshotting the announcements. But Baxter goes further. He says we should be glad about it: “As you take yourselves for the lights of the churches, you may expect that men's eyes will be upon you. If other men may sin without observation, so cannot you. And you should thankfully consider how great a mercy this is, that you have so many eyes to watch over you, and so many ready to tell you of your faults; and thus have greater helps than others, at least for restraining you from sin. Though they may do it with a malicious mind, yet you have the advantage of it.” As a Pastor, you have more eyes on you and more people paying attention to how you live. That means you have more help than most in living well and avoiding sin. What some people mean for evil, God means for your good (Genesis 50:20). What looks like a downside of ministry turns out to be a path to maturity, to formation. In practical terms, living your life in front of others pushes you to do what you already know you should do. And it often keeps you out of things you might slide into if nobody were watching. One important caveat: embracing accountability isn't the same as tolerating abuse. Healthy scrutiny sharpens you. A congregant who attacks your spouse or treats your kids like church property is a different problem, and it calls for boundaries, not gratitude. Let's be clear, though: the fishbowl isn't enough on its own. What we're really after is internal: character, a changed heart. But knowing we're living out loud in front of a watching church and a watching world gives us structure, and that structure can help us build the habits and rhythms of holiness we want. As we try to let the heart and character of Christ take deeper root in us, we have the advantage of lots of eyes around us "encouraging" us to stay on the straight and narrow. My sense is that people who embrace this find that, over time, what starts on the outside moves more and more to the inside. Slowly, the choices we make because others are watching become, through habit, real character. Because I know people are watching, I think twice about what I say in public, what I scroll past on my phone, and how I talk to my kids at church or out on the sidewalk in front of the neighbors. More and more, those choices, first made because of an audience, become part of who I am. That's especially true when I treat those moments as kairos [2] moments: times when God breaks in and uses my awareness of a watching world to show me the character He wants to form in me and the choices He'd like me to make. But what if we don't embrace it? What about those who get shipwrecked by moral failure, character flaws, and private sins gone public? People who resent the fishbowl of ministry and the Christian life often end up living one way in public and another in private. It's as if their anger at being scrutinized pushes them into a divided life: they'll play by the rules in public but insist on their own rules in private. Frustrated with the audience around them, so eager to find fault, they forget the true Audience they live before. And as we've all seen from too many spectacular crash-and-burns, the fallout is often devastating. Families, churches, and the reputation of the whole Church take serious damage. Pastors, recognize that your formation is happening, one way or another… and make peace with the fishbowl. It's going to be there whether you like it or not. If you embrace it, you may find it spurring you on toward love and good deeds (Hebrews 10:24) and keeping you clear of the sins that have taken down so many in ministry before you. “You should thankfully consider how great a mercy this is, that you have so many eyes to watch over you.” Let the Holy Spirit use your public life, and every eye watching it, to shape and form you. The fishbowl and the formation of a life in ministry are coming either way. Let them help answer the question: into what? To further explore your own formation through ministry, join us at the Multiply Summit with special guest Rich Villodas this coming February in the Washington, D.C. area! Adapted from Eldership and the Mission of God by Bob Hyatt and J.R. Briggs. [1] Richard Baxter, The Reformed Pastor, London, 1657, p. 21. [2] Kairos is one of the Greek words for time, but it's different from chronos. Chronos is linear, calendar time. Kairos refers to significant moments full of possibility. Here, it means those times when God steps into chronos.



