I posted this back in March under the title The Practical Theology of the Waffle House. Since that time I have revisited it, cleaned it up, and added a few things here and there. I chose to publish this version in the August newsletter for my church.

We are soon headed into Fall which means only one thing here in Texas.

Football.

I sketched this story out on the back of the placemat after a football game last season. My dad is a coach so we went to the Waffle House near his school after the game and I’ve never been the same.

As the season begins, I know that there will be a few late nights and similar opportunities. Just as I was not content with the way this article read back in March I am not content with with reacting the way I did back in October. I am ready to share my plate, my life, and my Jesus with people who are nothing like me. Maybe you are too.

Thanks for letting me get away with replaying this so soon. Here’s to a new season.

It was probably only the second time that I had ever stepped foot
inside one of these restaurants. The air was smokey. To say that the
cliental was shady would be an understatement. I made my way over to
the booth in the corner careful not to touch anything. As I looked
over the menu, I was less than thrilled with the choices. I wasn’t
hungry for any of the items listed but I was with my parents so I felt
that I should at least eat something here instead of walking to the
fast food establishment next door. I ended up ordering a simple
hamburger. After I ordered, I began to glance around the building
looking at the other people there.

I saw an older man sitting at the counter. His face was beaten and
weathered by the elements. He looked homeless. I didn’t see him eat
but I watched him as he drank his coffee. After a cup or two he
lowered his head and walked out into the cold night. As he left, two
young women walked in. The had just come from a high school sporting
event. Their sweat shirts sported the the mother of all swear words in
bright, bold white letters. As they cozied into the booth behind me
all eyes were on them. Whispers became audible insults. The girls just
laughed and went on about their night. Some high schoolers came in
looking for something to eat. They sat down at the counter where the
old man had sat. These people were so different from me.

The more and more I watched them the more convinced I became of the
new belief stirring in my heart. This belief is a simple and radical
idea. It doesn’t sit comfortably with me because it demands a
response. A response to the world and to the people sitting around me
that night.

Jesus would have eaten at the Waffle House.

He would have. There is no doubt in my mind. Jesus was the kind of
Savior that would have cozied up to the counter and had some
hash-browns covered and smothered with some guy who was at the end of
his rope. Jesus would have eaten with him, covered the bill, and
changed the man’s life. Maybe it would be with the touch of his hand
or maybe it would have been with just a look or Jesus might have even
spoken a word of encouragement or discipline to the man but the
message would have been clear.

“I am your Savior. I traveled across the universe to be with you. I
know who you are. I know your name. I know where you’ve been. I know
where your going. I want you to abandon your plans and join up with
me. I’ve done all the hard work. All you have to do is say yes.”

Yeah, Jesus would have eaten at the Waffle House.

Matthew 9:10-13 says this:

That night Matthew invited Jesus and his disciples to be his dinner
guests, along with his fellow tax collectors and many other notorious
sinners. The Pharisees were indignant. “Why does your teacher eat with
such scum?” they asked his disciples.

When he heard this, Jesus replied, “Healthy people don’t need a
doctor—sick people do.”  Then he added, “Now go and learn the meaning
of this Scripture: ‘I want you to be merciful; I don’t want your
sacrifices.’ For I have come to call sinners, not those who think they
are already good enough.”

As followers of this Savior what does that say about where we should
eat and who we should eat with? Think about that the when you eat at
the House or the next time your sitting in the booth at Chicken
Express or whenever you grab a slice of Sbarro in the food court.
Somebody there could benefit from you sharing not only your plate but
your faith as well.