A Parable of Protestantism
And I spoke about the laymen glorification of theology...
It was the marriage supper of the Lamb.
As was fitting a Jewish meal the table was set and the seating arrangements had been prepared in advance. As would be expected, given it is the eschaton, the table was incredibly long. The full number of God's elect were present. Not one was lost.
Despite such a big table every face was in view. Family. Friends. Even some enemies. The full number of God's elect were present to each other despite their seating placement. Which everyone realized was quite noticeably. Slowly some murmuring began, the who's who of Christ's bride were everywhere. Quickly the search for the theologians was on.
"Where is Calvin?" one asked. "Where is Athanasius?" another asked. "How did he get here?" got repeated more than once. A slow and steady pecking order was developed. The theologians in order. Surprises all around. All seated at the far end of the table.
Not that end of the table. But the other one. Every eye turned to the end nearest the groom. There God Almighty sat with His Son. Surely David would be there. Maybe Paul. James the Just was probably close by.
Though every face was known there was an element of unknowing. These faces had been lost in history. Mothers in war torn countries. The illiterate persecuted for making the sign of the cross. Children who had refused to bow the knee to any idol. Girls and women who had experienced unimaginable things.
Not a theologian in sight.
The longer people looked the more the servants looked like Christ. The visible marks and scars of their persecution in His name becoming more and more visible. The more radiant and glorious they became.
And finally the attention turned to the woman sitting next to the Son. She too bore the marks. The scars of the children she had loved in orphanages around the world. Those who had died in her arms. Those she had fed with her own food and clothed with her own clothes. Those she had stayed awake for to protect from abduction. She had become poor and needy for the poor and needy.
The frailty of her frame was accentuated as the participants looked down at themselves and the theologians. "She has loved me much," the Father said. The silence at the table made it sound as a whisper in every ear.
"But fear not, We have loved you very much," came the unison voice of the Father and Son.
The Last shall be First.