The Table: Lingering
Lingering — slow presence, deep listening, living at the pace of love.
How interruptible are we?
When we talk about the table at Redeemer, it’s not only intentionally prayerful—it’s lingering. It’s interruptible.
In Luke 8, Jesus was on his way to heal a little girl, her father Jairus in tow—panicked and desperate for this rabbi from Nazareth to do what he had become famous for: heal people.
Jesus was heading toward something incredibly important when a woman, who had been suffering for twelve years with chronic bleeding, reached through the crowd and touched the edge of his garment.
Luke tells us:
“Jesus said, ‘Who touched me?’ When all denied it, Peter said, ‘Master, the crowds surround you and are pressing in on you!’ But Jesus said, ‘Someone touched me, for I perceive that power has gone out from me.’” (Luke 8:45–46)
It stopped him in his tracks.
And suddenly the whole scene slows down. It lingers. Why? Because Jesus was not only intentional—he was interruptible.
The tables Jesus created with people, whether metaphorically or physically, had space to be interrupted. Space to linger in the presence of the one in need.
This is deeply countercultural to the world we live in. Everything around us is built on speed, efficiency, productivity, and timelines.
But the way of Jesus—the table with Jesus—has to be another way. People are not projects or programs for us to work on. They are image-bearers with needs that only an intentional and interruptible Jesus—the Jesus we carry with us—can truly meet.
Part of our creative witness at the table with Jesus is not only being prayerfully intentional and hospitable to the people in front of us, but also lingering with them.
By God’s grace, we linger long enough for the Spirit to interrupt us, reshape the agenda, and let us watch Jesus work through us at the table.
What if we became the most intentional and interruptible people in Nashville?
How would your workplace change?
Your neighborhood?
Your friendships?
Your family?
Jesus’ invitation to you is to become interruptible.
Lingering — slow presence, deep listening, living at the pace of love.
How interruptible are we?
When we talk about the table at Redeemer, it’s not only intentionally prayerful—it’s lingering. It’s interruptible.
In Luke 8, Jesus was on his way to heal a little girl, her father Jairus in tow—panicked and desperate for this rabbi from Nazareth to do what he had become famous for: heal people.
Jesus was heading toward something incredibly important when a woman, who had been suffering for twelve years with chronic bleeding, reached through the crowd and touched the edge of his garment.
Luke tells us:
“Jesus said, ‘Who touched me?’ When all denied it, Peter said, ‘Master, the crowds surround you and are pressing in on you!’ But Jesus said, ‘Someone touched me, for I perceive that power has gone out from me.’” (Luke 8:45–46)
It stopped him in his tracks.
And suddenly the whole scene slows down. It lingers. Why? Because Jesus was not only intentional—he was interruptible.
The tables Jesus created with people, whether metaphorically or physically, had space to be interrupted. Space to linger in the presence of the one in need.
This is deeply countercultural to the world we live in. Everything around us is built on speed, efficiency, productivity, and timelines.
But the way of Jesus—the table with Jesus—has to be another way. People are not projects or programs for us to work on. They are image-bearers with needs that only an intentional and interruptible Jesus—the Jesus we carry with us—can truly meet.
Part of our creative witness at the table with Jesus is not only being prayerfully intentional and hospitable to the people in front of us, but also lingering with them.
By God’s grace, we linger long enough for the Spirit to interrupt us, reshape the agenda, and let us watch Jesus work through us at the table.
What if we became the most intentional and interruptible people in Nashville?
How would your workplace change?
Your neighborhood?
Your friendships?
Your family?
Jesus’ invitation to you is to become interruptible.