Suddenly, it was time.
People gathered in large numbers, milling around,
All waiting to see if their name would be called next.
Then they would be ushered into the dining room to eat.
All waited expectantly, wondering.
Names were called; big important names.
And one by one, these VIP’s were ushered in,
Where a wingless angel stood nearby
Taking their order for pizza,
And placing each person around the tables,
Each thinking it was according to their rank.
The others outside, still waiting,
Could see all that went on inside,
(Despite the huge crowds.)
Each name that was called, they would justify.
Yes, we can understand why he was chosen,
For he was the owner of that company.
And that guy over there, hey, wasn’t he the town mayor?
Then my old pastor’s name was called.
I watched as he entered and took his place,
(He was in line not far from me.)
He went in, placed his order, and ate beside the others.
A few other people were called and seated,
Then my name was called.
Whispers of shock reverberated around the tables,
Why her? Who was she? She was a nobody!
Why is she joining us here at our table?
They could not understand the reasoning of the chosen,
Nor could I. For yes, they were right, I was no one.
I placed no order, but received a pizza just the same.
It was a large green-peppered pizza, with pepperoni.
I eyed it, mouth watering, yet hesitating.
(I liked pepperoni and green peppers, but could not eat them while on earth.)
But somehow I knew, that this time it was O.K. for me to eat it,
And that I would not get sick from them.
So I ate small bites, marveling at how good it tasted, how perfect.
And each time I took out a bite, it was somehow replaced,
Leaving me with a whole pizza again.
My old pastor and I, we looked at each other and smiled.
But the others around us, continued to argue among themselves,
Trying to figure out why someone as lowly and unimportant like me,
Would be seated next to them.
As they ate and argued,
I discovered a way to slip some of my pizza out,
To others still waiting in line.
Quietly, secretly, I shared my meal with those outside.
Then, somehow, the opening widened, becoming a back-door to the outside.
Together my old pastor and I sneaked more people in, without notice.
We helped all sorts of people; ones thought important, ones not.
(We had no choice; we brought in who we could,)
Then suddenly, without warning, the door was slammed shut.
Everyone within was saddened,
To find that no more could enter through that passage.
Yet we looked around, marveling at the faces we saw there among us.
Again, everyone questioned the logic of the choices.
Some made sense to them, like why the VIP’s were there.
But no one could figure out why little nobodies like me were among them.
We all looked around the room, searching, wondering, and eating.
Then in a flash, I knew. Everyone at our table, had one thing in common.
We had listened to my old pastor’s sermons, and had brought them into our heart.
That was the link among us; every single one.
We were all there, deemed important, not because of title or position,
But because we took this old pastor’s shared words of Jesus,
And allowed them to live within us.
I woke up then, and the song “The Invitation” by Steven Curtis Chapman,
Was playing in the back of my mind.
(To listen to the same song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hA7q0jA9VtE )
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