Do you remember middle school lunch tables? I do. Everyone knew exactly where they were “allowed” to sit. The athletes had their table. The popular kids had theirs. And there was always a spot—or maybe just one table—for the kids who didn’t quite fit anywhere else.

If you ever tried to sit in the wrong place, it didn’t take long before you got the message: You don’t belong here.

Here’s the thing—most of us never really outgrow that. We spend a lot of life wondering where we belong. At work. In our friend groups. Sometimes even in church. That hunger for belonging is exactly what Jesus addresses in Luke 14.

Jesus at the Dinner Table

In this passage, Jesus goes to a Sabbath meal hosted by a Pharisee. Just like those lunch tables, where you sat at the table in the ancient world revealed your worth. The closer you were to the host, the higher your honor. The further away you sat, the less important you were.

Jesus watches as people scramble for the best seats, then tells a story that flips the seating chart upside down. Instead of fighting for honor, he says, choose the lowest place. Then, if the host invites you closer, you’ll be honored. But more than that, Jesus pushes the idea further—real hospitality looks like inviting people who can’t repay you. The poor, the sick, the overlooked.

That’s radical. In a culture built on honor and shame, where your status determined your value, Jesus was re-writing the rules.

Baptism: God’s Way of Saying “You Belong”

That’s why baptism is such a powerful thing. Today, we celebrated the baptisms of Clara and Eleanor. And baptism makes one thing crystal clear: you don’t have to scramble for a seat. You don’t have to earn your spot. God simply declares, You belong. You are mine. You are loved.

At God’s table, dignity isn’t earned—it’s given. Baptism is God’s countercultural act of defiance against every message of exclusion.

The world tells people all the time, “You don’t belong.” Immigrants, people living in poverty, those with disabilities, folks who don’t fit into traditional gender or sexuality boxes—so many hear this message again and again. Sometimes it’s said out loud, sometimes it’s just implied.

But baptism speaks a louder word: You do belong.

Radical Hospitality

Here’s the kicker. Once we know we belong, we’re free to make room for others. That’s the kind of radical hospitality Jesus models. He heals the man with swelling—the very person others would have pushed aside. He invites those who never get an invitation.

God’s kingdom isn’t about status swaps, replacing one group with another. It’s about leveling the ground at the cross. No one higher. No one lower. Just a wide-open table with room for everyone.

The Expanding Table of Grace

Can you picture the kind of banquet Jesus describes? The guest of honor isn’t the most popular, powerful, or wealthy—it’s the one who thought they had no place at all. Imagine the joy when someone who’s always been told “You don’t belong” gets pulled into the very center of the feast. That’s the heart of God.

And here’s the miracle: the table never gets too full. When we welcomed Clara and Eleanor today, the table didn’t get crowded—it got bigger. The joy multiplied. God’s grace isn’t a limited pie we divide up. It’s a feast that keeps growing.

At Christ’s table, your seat is already set. No scrambling. No proving. Just an open invitation. And the best part? There’s always room for one more.

This blog post is a version of a sermon that I preached at my congregation.