Eating With the Enemy

When your cup overflows

Photo by Natalie Grainger on Unsplash

In Psalm 23, David speaks of the Lord as his shepherd, describing a sheepy life of grass, peace, and righteousness. David then pivots to a slightly different picture: "You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows."  

OK, so more abundance, but now with enemies present.

I always visualized that table scene in one particular way: God was providing good things for David in the sight of his enemies. Read: In your face! Behold, my Father, showing them how much He cares for me—and not them. In the spirit of the imprecatory psalms: curse those who curse You, O Lord; punish the wicked. 

These imprecations have always been problematic for me when I remember that I, too, offend the Lord. My best attempts at righteousness generally end up being ridiculous. Who am I, really, to be calling down thunder on my enemies?

Early one morning I was reading this Psalm—really meditating on it, from a “death” valley of my own which kept me awake at night. Thinking about people who had betrayed me, I turned the phrase over and over: “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.”

I could taste the desire to have God show them all how much he loves me and sides with my idea of what is right. But I know I am not the center of the universe. Then I realized: Instead of flaunting his bounty and privilege, David had the option to invite his enemies into that feast. He could extend his arm, open his heart, allow his very enemies to partake of God's blessing with him. “Join me,” he might say, with a twinkle in his eye. 

We've been forgiven abundantly, so we can forgive. This is the Way of Christ. The petty departments of my heart crave that Hollywood moment where I bask in ridiculous wealth and gloat over my groveling enemies—but in real life, it’s not so satisfying to watch another human suffer. The massive, multi-dimensional, eternal reality is so much better. 

One enters the kingdom of God not with clanging bells of bravado, but through a tiny door at the end of a narrow path; by setting down our baggage and crouching down into the space of humility and repentance. Not by showing how much better we are than others, but by finally being freed from our ego and finally seeing our essential place in this vast and glorious universe.

A former pastor of mine said something to this effect, in a sermon: “Why would we feast on grace for ourselves, and then withhold it from others, causing them  to starve?” Oh, the irony.

Maybe David meant all this, maybe he didn't. But Christ makes it clear throughout the Bible that He "anoints our heads with oil" so that we can be a blessing. While David’s cup was overflowing, it would be easier to pass it around to his enemies than when they were persecuting him! There were times when David was running for his life, and he didn’t have time to stop and break bread with his persecutors. Far from it.

When you know that you are blessed, loved, and safe, it’s easier to share, forgive, and trust.

People may not always make you feel safe. May we each connect with God and know Him to be protector, provider, forgiver, shepherd. And, as the Spirit leads, may we extend grace and forgiveness to those who have hurt us.