The Lord S Table Quotes & Sayings

What does it look like to live life in a manner worthy of the gospel? It looks like dying with Christ to one's self and being raised in Christ to walk in the newness of life with our brothers and sisters. It means living grace-filled lives that grant patience and mercy and gentleness for the spiritual journeys of others and a respect for the differences and idiosyncrasies we all bring to the Lord's table. — Matt Chandler

Dinner, served between 10:00 A.M. and noon, was the main meal of the day. A trumpeter or crier would announce the meal at a castle. When a guest entered, the ladies would curtsey and take their seats. The lord might give the guest a light, quick kiss before showing the guest to his seat at the lord's table. Attendants or pages would bring a washbowl forward and pour water for the guest and lord out of an aquanmanile (an elaborate pitcher). The rest of the diners would wash their hands in a lavabo-type dispenser in the great hall and dry their hands on a long towel. They would then take their seats at the lower trestle tables on benches that often served as their beds at night. The diners were served in order: first the visiting clergy, the visiting nobles, the lord and his family, then the retainers. — Sherrilyn Kenyon

I have three copies of the first edition, which sold in double figures, speaking loosely; there was a moment when Blond's 'Lord Malquist and Mr Moon' sold 67 copies, or some such number, in Venezuela - a mystery I never solved. I have never been to Venezuela. I remember going into Foyles' bookshop in 1966 and being gratified to see a stack of Malquist-and-Moons on the New Fiction table. I counted them; there were twelve. A week or two later I went in again; there they were. I counted them again; there were thirteen! I saw at once what was happening. People were leaving my book at bookshops. — Tom Stoppard

The Lord's my Shepherd, I'll not want;
He makes me down to lie
In pastures green; He leadeth me
The quiet waters by.
My soul He doth restore again,
And me to walk doth make
Within the paths of righteousness,
E'en for His own name's sake.
Yea, though I walk in death's dark vale,
Yet will I fear no ill;
For Thou art with me, and Thy rod
And staff my comfort still.
My table Thou hast furnished me
In presence of my foes;
My head Thou dost with oil anoint,
And my cup overflows.
Goodness and mercy all my life
Shall surely follow me;
And in God's house forevermore,
My dwelling place shall be. — Psalm 23

A large trencher made of bread was set on the table (one for every two people). One person sliced the trencher and kept half, and the other person used the second half as a plate. Plates are not found in England until the very end of the fourteenth century. Dinner began with a blessing from the chaplain followed by a procession led from the unoccupied side of the lord's table by the steward who oversaw the staff. — Sherrilyn Kenyon

One of the reasons for his drinking, Henry said, was John's mama used to make the whole family get down on their knees and pray like fury everytime John's daddy
Henry's first cousin, I believe
would come home boozed, and John never quite got it straight that they weren't thanking the good Lord for his blessing same as they did at the supper table. So according to Henry booze come to be sort of holy to him and with faith like that John grew up religious as a deacon. — Ken Kesey

Kane kept his cool, letting all those long-standing walls drop into place as he walked through the restaurant. His outward calm showed nothing of the panic raging through his mind. The only clue he gave that something might be wrong was when he bypassed his waitstaff, not listening or answering one of their questions as he made a beeline directly to the kitchen. His pleasant facade was nothing more than his body's natural defense mechanism kicking into place. Calm, cool, and collected were always what he projected to the world when his heart and mind raced completely out of control. And dear Lord did the greeting with Avery Adams, aka table thirty-four, seriously qualify as one hell of a stressful situation. — Kindle Alexander

Barabas placed a stack on the table and held the chair out for me. "For you."
"I'm hungry and I don't have time for this."
Barabas's eyes held no mercy. "Make time, Alpha. You have two hands. You can eat and sign simultaneously."
Curran grinned.
"Enjoying my suffering?" I asked.
"I find it hilarious that you'll run into a gunfight with nothing but your sword, but paperwork makes you panic."
Barabas put a thicker stack in front of him.
"This is yours, m'lord."
Curran swore. — Ilona Andrews

Elect from every nation,
Yet one o'er all the earth;
Her charter of salvation,
One Lord, one faith, one birth;
One holy name she blesses,
Partakes one holy food,
And to one hope she presses,
With every grace endued. — Samuel J. Stone

Hot dogs and Communion at the Hope Rescue Mission. I will always think of the body of Christ now with this scene in mind. Doctors and housewives and professors in nice shoes and brightly colored sweaters shuffling to the table together with men and women who hadn't changed clothes for days or weeks. The sophisticated smell of after-shave mixed with the sharp scent of dirty socks and stale smoke. People whose lives seemed all together sharing the same loaf with people whose lives were broken and tattered. We were all one body, for we all ate from the same loaf. — Leonard J. Vander Zee

Ser Barristan Selmy raised his pale blue from the table and said, 'Your Grace, ther is honor in facing an enemy on the battlefield, but none in killing him in his mother's womb. Forgive me, but I must stannd with Lord Eddard. — George R R Martin

We have seen some gatekeeping or fencing-the-table language already beginning to rear its head in this context. One needed to be baptized to take the meal; one needed to repent to take the meal; one needed a bishop or his subordinate to serve the meal. This was to become especially problematic when the church began to suggest that grace was primarily, if not exclusively, available through the hands of the priest and by means of the sacrament. One wonders what Jesus, dining with sinners and tax collectors and then eating his modified Passover meal with disciples whom he knew were going to deny, desert, and betray him, would say about all this. There needs to be a balance between proper teaching so the sacrament is partaken of in a worthy manner and overly zealous policing of the table or clerical control of it. — Ben Witherington III

I will m fear no evil, for n you are with me; your o rod and your staff, they comfort me. 5 You p prepare a table before me in q the presence of my enemies; you r anoint my head with oil; my s cup overflows. 6 Surely [4] goodness and mercy [5] shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall t dwell [6] in the house of the LORD u forever. [7] The King of Glory A Psalm of David. PSALM 24 v The earth is the LORD's and the fullness thereof, [1] the world and those who dwell — Anonymous

Who should serve the Lord's Supper? Well in the early church, considering Acts 2 and 1 Corinthians 11, the host of the home presumably was the host of the meal, and as I have said, really, the Lord is the host at his own table, not any of us. We are all just participants, we are all celebrants. I don't think there is any biblical warrant for the serving of the Lord's Supper to be confined to ministers, but I do think that anyone who undertakes such a sacred task should be trained to do it in a respectful manner. — Ben Witherington III

21. g And Jesus went away from there and withdrew to the district of Tyre and Sidon. 22And behold, h a Canaanite woman from that region came out and was crying, i "Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David; my daughter is severely oppressed by a demon." 23But he did not answer her a word. And his disciples came and begged him, saying, j "Send her away, for she is crying out after us." 24He answered, k "I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel." 25But she came and l knelt before him, saying, "Lord, help me." 26And he answered, "It is not right to take the children's bread and m throw it to the dogs." 27She said, "Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat n the crumbs that fall from their masters' table." 28Then Jesus answered her, "O woman, o great is your faith! p Be it done for you as you desire." q And her daughter was p healed instantly. [5] — Anonymous

In short, the Lord's Supper was the realization of new social and political arrangements, the embodiment of the social leveling seen in Jesus' ministry, most profoundly in his acts of table fellowship. Importantly, as we have seen, these new social arrangements could only be achieved if the emotions of social stratification were confronted, eliminated, or reinterpreted. In his body metaphor, Paul dramatically reframes these heretical emotions, the emotions of contempt, disgust, honor, and social presentability. Rather, than signaling exclusion and division - the natural expulsive impulse inherent in these emotions - Paul suggests that these emotions should signal just the opposite in the Kingdom of God: honor, care, and embrace. — Richard Beck

My poor soul! Sigh, pray and strive to take upon you the blessed yoke of Christ, and you will live on earth in a heavenly manner. Lord, grant that I may carry the light and goodly yoke, and I shall be always at rest, peaceful, glad and joyous; and I shall taste on earth of crumbs which fall from the celestial feast, like a dog that feeds upon the crumbs which fall from the master's table. — Tikhon Of Zadonsk

Moments later a huge male with a cropped mohawk came out. Rehvenge was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit and had a black cane in his right hand. As he came slowly over to the Brotherhood's table, his patrons parted before him, partly out of respect for his size, partly out of fear from his
reputation. Everyone knew who he was and what he was capable of: Rehv was the kind of drug lord who took a personal interest in his livelihood. You crossed him and you turned up diced like something off the Food Channel. — J.R. Ward

The evening prayer service began with a sharing of the bread and the wine. An everyday occurrence for most there, but for Jacob, this prayerful remembrance of their Lord's last supper with his disciples held a singular intensity. It had been a long while since he'd had this opportunity. He watched as the elders of their group stood before the table and Josiah again prayed, lifting the bread and the cup in turn as he blessed them, then broke the bread into small pieces for distribution. Jacob thought about the incongruity of the most revered in the group, who normally were the ones being honored and served, to now be carrying the plates of bread and the goblet of wine to each participant. He was reminded of the story he'd heard of Jesus kneeling to wash his disciples' dirty feet. A servant ... kept whispering through his mind as the words of the sacrament were recited. On the night when he was betrayed, Jesus took the cup ... — Davis Bunn

Yet, tragically, many today still eat at the table of demons, serving their own lustful appetites, and then attempt to come to the Lord's table and feast with the righteous. This leads only to spiritual sickness and death because these deceived ones do not discern the true Bread of God.
These sickly sheep have become so spiritually weak and diseased by sin that they cannot eat strong meat. Instead, the prefer to nibble at the husks of ear-tickling teachings. They gravitate toward lightness and entertainment rather than the genuine Word. Their spiritual appetites have become dull as a result of eating too much junk food. — David Wilkerson

One rendering of the Septuagint (LXX) version of Psalm 95:5-6 reaffirms this reality of national gods being demons whose deity was less than the Creator, "For great is the Lord, and praiseworthy exceedingly. More awesome he is than all the gods. For all the gods of the nations are demons, but the Lord made the heavens."[4] Another LXX verse, Isa. 65:11, speaks of Israel's idolatry: "But ye are they that have left me, and forget my holy mountain, and prepare a table for [a demon], and fill up the drink-offering to Fortune [a foreign goddess].[5] — Brian Godawa

The real test of your Christianity is not how pious you look at the Lord's table on Sunday, but how you act at the breakfast table at home. If it takes two cups of coffee to make you fit to live with, you had better go to the mourner's bench. — Vance Havner

Suppose we are all children in the eyes of the Lord. But when God points us in the direction of his plan and we accept it, we morph and transform like the caterpillar emerging after living so long in its cocoon. No matter what that butterfly does, it cannot return to the cocoon nor can it go back to being a caterpillar." She felt Alejandro squeeze her hand under the table. "I believe that when we follow God's will without question, that is the day when we truly become an adult in his eyes and, at that point, there is no turning back. — Sarah Price

Food in a castle was served in the great hall, a large room usually on an upper floor. The lord's table was set up along one wall on a small dais, the rest of the tables were positioned in a perpendicular fashion to the lord's dais. Lower tables were called trestle tables, and when the meals were not being eaten, these tables were taken down and stacked in designated areas. The lord, his guests and family who all sat at the lord's table were the only ones to have chairs; everyone else sat on a bench. Breakfast was a small snack usually served after morning mass. It consisted of a hunk of bread and ale or cider for the retainers and servants. The lord, his family and guests might be served white bread with a — Sherrilyn Kenyon

10:21 Ye cannot drink the cup of the Lord, and the cup of devils: ye cannot be partakers of the Lord's table, and of the table of devils. — Anonymous

Guilt must not be allowed to fester in the silence of the soul, poisoning it from within. It needs to be confessed. Through confession we bring it into the light, we place it within Christ's purifying love. In confession, the Lord washes our soiled feet over and over again and prepares us for table fellowship with him. — Pope Benedict XVI

Bramble had taken another pencil from Delphinium, and Azalea's napkin, and wrote something new.
You're afraid of the King. Admit it.
Azalea grimaced at her untouched food, burning in humiliation as Lord Bradford took the napkin and read it. This time, he looked to be discreetly writing something back beneath the table.
Fairweller blinked at the King for a moment, in which Lord Bradford handed Bramble her napkin. She opened it and turned a rosy pink.
My lady, it read,who isn't?
Bramble pursed her lips and kicked Lord Bradford beneath the table-hard. His face twitched befre regaining its solemn expression.Azalea buried her face in her hands.
"All we ask is for you to consider it. That is all," said Fairweller.
"Oh." Lord Bradford's voice was slightly strangled. "Yes. Thank you."
Bramble threw the pencil-smudged napkin onto her plate. "I'm done," she said. "May we go to our room now? — Heather Dixon

Oh, I think that Lord Tyrion is quite a large man," Maester Aemon said from the far end of the table. He spoke softly, yet the high officers of the Night's Watch all fell quiet, the better to hear what the ancient had to say. "I think he is a giant come among us, here at the end of the world." Tyrion answered gently, "I've been called many things, my lord, but giant is seldom one of them." "Nonetheless," Maester Aemon said as his clouded, milk-white eyes moved to Tyrion's face, "I think it is true." For once, Tyrion Lannister found himself at a loss for words. He could only bow his head politely and say, "You are too kind, Maester Aemon." The blind man smiled. He was a tiny thing, wrinkled and hairless, shrunken beneath the weight of a hundred years so his maester's collar with its links of many metals hung loose about his throat. "I have been called many things, my lord," he said, "but kind is seldom one of them." This time Tyrion himself led the laughter. — George R R Martin

I THINK the moments we are nearest to heaven are those we spend at the Lord's table. — Charles Spurgeon

Alderic, Knight of the Order of the City and the Assault, hereditary Guardian of the King's Peace of Mind, a man not unremembered among the makers of myth, pondered so long upon the Gibbelins' hoard that by now he deemed it his. Alas that I should say of so perilous a venture, undertaken at dead of night by a valorous man, that its motive was sheer avarice! Yet upon avarice only the Gibbelins relied to keep their larders full, and once in every hundred years sent spies into the cities of men to see how avarice did, and always the spies returned again to the tower saying that all was well.
It may be thought that, as the years went on and men came by fearful ends on that tower's wall, fewer and fewer would come to the Gibbelins' table: but the Gibbelins found otherwise.
("The Hoard Of The Gibbelins") — Lord Dunsany

The marquess held the weapon out, as formally as if he were passing a sword.
Soberly, Ned accepted it. He placed the sacrificial citrus on the table in front of him, and then with one careful
incision, eviscerated it. He speared deep into its heart, his
hands steady, and then cut it to pieces. Jenny allotted herself one short moment of wistful sorrow for her afterdinner treat gone awry as the juice ran everywhere.
"Enough." She reached out and covered his hand midstab.
"It's dead now," she explained gravely.
He pulled his hand away and nodded. Lord Blakely took back his knife and cleaned it with a handkerchief.
Jenny studied the corpse. It was orange. It was pulpy. It
was going to be a mess to clean up. Most importantly, it gave her an excuse to sit and think of something mystical to say - the only reason for this exercise, really. Lord Blakely
demanded particulars. But in Jenny's profession, specifics were the enemy. — Courtney Milan

Headache!" Zeus bellowed. "Bad. bad headache!"
As if to prove his point, the lord of the universe slammed his face into his pancakes, which demolished the pancakes and the plate and put a crack in the table, but did nothing for his headache.
"Aspirin?" Apollo suggested. (he was the god of healing)
"Nice cup og tea?" Hestia suggested
"I could split your skull open," offered Hephaestus, the blacksmith god
"Hephaestus!" Hera cried. "Don't talk to your father that way!"
"What?" Hephaestus demanded "Clearly he's got a problem in there. I could open up the hood and take a look. Might relieve the pressure. Besides, he's immortal. It won't kill him — Rick Riordan

So there was splendour and wealth, but no great happiness perchance, behind the tall caned portals of Gaunt House with its smoky coronets and ciphers. The feasts there were of the grandest in London, but there was not overmuch content therewith, except among the guests who sat at my lord's table. Had he not been so great a Prince very few possibly would have visited him; but in Vanity Fair the sins of very great personages are looked at indulgently. — William Makepeace Thackeray

As soon as the doors were closed, Amelia went to her sister with her hands raised. At first Cam thought she intended to shake her, but instead Amelia pulled Beatrix close, her shoulders trembling. She could barely breathe for laughing.
"Bea ... you did it on purpose, didn't you? ... I couldn't believe my eyes ... that blasted lizard running along the table ... "
"I had to do something," the girl explained in a muffled voice. "Leo was behaving badly - I didn't understand what he was saying, but I saw Lord Westcliff's face - "
"Oh ... oh ... " Amelia choked with giggles. "Poor Westcliff ... one moment he's def-fending the local population from Leo's tyranny, and then Spot comes s-slithering past the bread plates ... "
"Where is Spot?" Twisting away from her sister, Beatrix approached Cam, who deposited the lizard in her outstretched palms. "Thank you, Mr. Rohan. You have very quick hands."
"So I've been told." He smiled at her. — Lisa Kleypas

It was now Frodo's turn to feel pleased with himself. He capered about on the table; and when he came up a second time to the cow jumped over the Moon, he leaped in the air. Much too vigorously; for he came down, bang, into a tray full of mugs, and slipped, and rolled off the table with a crash, clatter, and bump! The audience all opened their mouths wide for laughter, and stopped short in gaping silence; for the singer disappeared. He simply vanished, as if he had gone slap through the floor without leaving a hole! — J.R.R. Tolkien

As Patron-Sponser, I am charged with ... "-he pasued and consulted the notes-"adding a sense of royal cachet to proceedings today."
He waited while a ripple of conversation ran around the room. Nobody was quite sure what adding a sense of royal cachet really meant. But everyone agreed that it sounded impressive indeed. Lady Pauline's mouth twitched in a smile and she looked down at the table. Halt found something of vast interest in the ceiling beams high above. Duncan continued.
My second duty is ... "-again he consulted his notes to make sure he had the wording correct-"to provide an extremly expensive present to the bride and groom ... "
Lady Pualine's head jerked at that. She leaned forward and turned to make eye contact with Lord Anthony. The Chamberlain met her gaze, his face completely devoid of expression. Then, very slowly, one eyelid slid down in a wink. He liked Lady Pauline and Halt a great deal and he'd added that duty without consulting them. — John Flanagan

Good evening," Evie murmured, taking a place at the table beside Sebastian. She smiled as she glanced up at him. "Are you clever with numbers, my lord?"
"I've always thought so," Sebastian replied ruefully, "until now. Rohan ... are the other croupiers adept with probability calculations?"
"Adept enough, my lord. They are well-trained. They all know how to tempt a player to make wagers to the house's advantage, how to identify a good player from a bad one ... "
"Trained by whom?" Evie asked.
Cam's grin was a flash of startling white in his honey-skinned face. "By me, of course. No one understands gaming as well as I."
Smiling, Evie glanced up at her husband. "All he lacks is confidence," she remarked dryly. — Lisa Kleypas

I'm named Bella," the girl told Gendry. "For the battle. I bet I could ring your bell, too. You want to?"
"No," he said gruffly.
"I bet you do." She ran a hand along his arm. "I don't cost nothing to friends of Thoros and the lighting lord."
"No, I said." Gendry rose abruptly and stalked away from the table out into the night.
Bella turn to Arya. "Don't he like girls?"
Arya shrugged. "He's just stupid. He likes to polish helmets and beat on swords with hammers. — George R R Martin

You p prepare a table before me in q the presence of my enemies; you r anoint my head with oil; my s cup overflows. 6 Surely [4] goodness and mercy [5] shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall t dwell [6] in the house of the LORD u forever. — Anonymous

The person that goes regularly and intelligently to the Lord's Table finds it increasingly hard to yield to sin and conform to the world. — J.C. Ryle

Jace had disappeared under the table. He appeared a moment later, holding Church, the Institute's part-time cat. Church had his paws stuck straight out and a look of satisfaction on his face. "We thought the same thing," said Jace, settling the cat on his lap. "But apparently, according to Magnus, there are spells that can be constructed to be activated by a warlock's death."
Emma glared at Church. She knew the cat had once lived in the New York Institute, but it seemed rude to show preference so blatantly. The cat was lying on his back on Jace's lap, purring and ignoring her. — Cassandra Clare

Is the church really demonstrating the new life in Christ if there is no discipline, if there is no fencing in of the Lord's table, no demand for purity of life? — Michael Sattler

No doubt a man may be saved, like the penitent thief, without having received the Lord's Supper. It is not a matter of absolute and indispensable necessity, like repentance, faith, and conversion. But it is impossible to say that any professing Christian is in a safe, healthy, or satisfactory condition of soul, who habitually refuses to obey Christ and attend the Lord's Table. — J.C. Ryle

The chairs - turned towards one another in groups of twos and threes - seemed like the seats of ghosts in close conversation with one another. There were sets of two chairs - very close to one another - in the far corners of the room, which spoke of recent whispered flirtations, over cold game pie and iced champagne; there were sets of three and four chairs, that recalled pleasant animated discussions over the latest scandals; there were chairs straight up in a row that still looked starchy, critical, acid, like antiquated dowagers; there were a few isolated, single chairs, close to the table, that spoke of gourmands intent on the most recherche dishes, and others overturned on the floor, that spoke volumes on the subject of my Lord Grenville's cellars. — Emmuska Orczy

PSA23.1 The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. PSA23.2 He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. PSA23.3 He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. PSA23.4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. PSA23.5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. PSA23.6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the LORD for ever. — Anonymous

You can't write, yet you learned to hunt, to survive. How?"
I paused with my foot on the threshold. "That's what happens when you're responsible for lives other than your own, isn't it? You do what you have to do."
He was still sitting on the table, still straddling that inner line between the here and now and wherever he'd had to go in his mind to endure the fight with the Bogge. I met his feral and glowing stare.
"You aren't what I expected - for a human. — Sarah J. Maas

Elgin himself looked ten years younger, now that he'd cast the die, but I thought exuberance had got the better of him when he strode into the saloon later, threw The Origin of Species on the table and announced:
"It's very original, no doubt, but not for a hot evening. What I need is some trollop."
I couldn't believe my ears, and him a church-goer, too. "Well, my lord, I dunno," says I. "Tientsin ain't much of a place, but I'll see what I can drum up - "
"Michel's been reading Doctor Thorne since Taku," cried he. "He must have finished it by now, surely! Ask him, Flashman, will you?" So I did, and had my ignorance, enlightened. — George MacDonald Fraser

Surely we can only come to understand each other's beliefs by means of direct encounter and open, honest discussion. In the meantime, many free churches invite all believers in Jesus Christ to the Table for the sake of true spiritual unity that transcends intellectual differences of interpretation. Withholding sacramental sharing on the basis of disagreement about the nature of the Lord's Supper seems odd to us. What two people think exactly alike about the act? We are not offended by Catholics' closed Communion, but we find it odd and exclusive. It places intellectual understanding above fellowship among disciples of Jesus Christ. — Roger E. Olson

The moments that followed were full of interest. A stillness, a brooding, expectant stillness, fell upon the company - and it numbered a round dozen - about Lord Gervase's richly appointed board. In the soft candlelight the oval table — Rafael Sabatini