The Polish artist Bohdan Piasecki was commissioned to paint this ‘Last Supper’ in 1998 for an Irish group called Brothers and Sisters in Christ (BASIC): Praying and Working for the Ordination of Women in the Roman Catholic Church. The request was made in response to the widespread acceptance, at the time, of Leonardo Da Vinci’s great masterpiece depicting the Last Supper. They believed it was not an accurate understanding of the traditional Jewish Seder which would have been eaten in Jesus’ day. The Passover Meal was a family meal, including women and children; they would more likely have sat on the floor and eaten unleavened bread and roast lamb. They wanted a painting that invited us into gracious hospitality; that spoke to the hunger – and refreshment – of not just a few ‘chosen’ men, but women and children too.
When I first encountered this painting 20 years ago, it was at a time when I was feeling very challenged by the exclusive nature, in too many churches, of who was invited to share the Eucharist. I wanted to believe that everyone was welcome at The Table. But it was too often qualified with words about who belonged – and who did not. You were welcome IF you had been baptised; or confirmed; or were a church member “in good standing”. In some churches, if you were divorced or gay, or a member of a different denomination, you were not welcome. Those ‘qualifications’ did not rest easy with me. They seemed so contrary to the open invitation Jesus seemed to extend to everyone when he was sharing food and drink.
The gracious invitation to be fully present to ourselves and to each other
Around the same time, my mother died. There was a hymn she wanted sung at her funeral called “For Everyone Born, a Place at the Table.” I think she had chosen it because her gay son had felt so excluded by the church and later, her gay Lutheran pastor (whom she was so fond of) lost his job when he ‘came out’. Interestingly, like the painting, it was written in 1998 (by Shirley Erena Murray of New Zealand). Ms Murray, who was involved with work for Amnesty International, wrote the text because she could not find any song with a broad overview of human rights in any hymnbook. She asked, “What is this table? In my mind it began as the table of the world in the peaceable kingdom, an imaginary place of justice and joy where everyone gathers and is fed.” (lyrics here)
Twenty-five years ago, this painting and song gave expression to a deep yearning for a more inclusive and authentic way of defining The Table. Neither were about the actual words said around the table; it was about the gracious invitation to be present – fully present to ourselves and to each other, without qualification or worthiness.
I am minded of Rumi’s poem: The Guest House.
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honourably,
he may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
Questions
Who is welcome at your Table?
Are you always grateful for ‘whoever comes’?
Nancy Adams