Psalm 23:5
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
There are so many elements of Psalm 23 that resonate deeply with me. I can imagine lying down in green pastures and being led beside still waters. I can appreciate not wanting. I’ve been in that valley of the shadow of death and known God with me there.
But when the psalmist describes God preparing a table in the presence of my enemies, I have a hard time picturing the scene. Do I actually have enemies? Where exactly is God preparing this table for me? For us?
It helps me to know that the root of the Hebrew word here for enemies has to do with being bound or restricted. What binds me? What narrows my view, restricts my understanding?
What keeps us from seeing the world as God sees it? What tries to push us off the path of justice?
My enemies aren’t clearly labeled bad guys somewhere out there. In fact, they’re not people at all. They’re ingrained ideas that I abhor but that still come to mind unbidden; they’re the systems of oppression that I’m caught up in, having bought into them mindlessly; they’re the subtle messages that over time have made a well worn path through my mind, heart, and spirit. You have to be good. You’re not good enough.
In the presence of these enemies, God prepares a table full of blessing—a feast of forgiveness and freedom, bread and wine, the body of Christ re-membered, all creation reconciled.
And now, envisioning this feast to which I’m being called, I do imagine these nebulous enemies as actual people. And I imagine them being invited to that very same table God has prepared for me. I imagine them sitting down and introducing themselves, as if I didn’t already know them far too well.
And then I imagine the Shepherd sitting down between me and my enemies. And we’re all there together at that table for what is probably eternity but feels like only the briefest of moments. And as we eat and drink together my enemies are transformed by the love of our host. They’re no longer a threat. They no longer crave dysfunction and despair. They feast on love and become what they’ve received at this table of justice and mercy.
And I do too.
And we are all free. All beloved. All awash in God’s goodness. Forever.
Come, Jesus, come. Prepare a table before us in the presence of our enemies. Feed us all with your freeing love. Amen.
*Today’s accompanying song is On the Path of Justice by Richard Bruxvoort Colligan.