The Supper of the Great King

(or a Snack at a Fast Food Place?)

Ronnie Bray

On a visit to my ex-wife June and her husband Fred in London, made possible by good feeling,
affection, and generosity, they took us to the Cumberland Hotel Grill, a very posh and good food
place near Marble Arch, to eat at their eat-as-much-as-you-want carvery. It was a welcome
opportunity to have a really good meal without having to limit ourselves. Truly a feast fit for a
king!

We went by taxi expecting to be seated and start our meal straight away. But, there was a
waiting time of one hour wait until we could be seated. Would you like to wait in the cocktail
lounge? asked the head waiter. That seemed like a good idea. At least we would be comfortable
while we waited.

The lounge was spacious and well appointed. It was chic, with elegant décor and muted lighting
and comfortably upholstered benches arranged around low circular tables affording plenty of
room. Having decided to just one drink, we sipped our non-alcoholic cocktails. On the table
were several bowls of peanuts, nibbler biscuits, pretzels, and other snack stuff. As soon as a
container reached halfway full, a waiter appeared from a cloud of smoke and re-filled it.

We sat at ease, our conversation ranging from the weather to less important issues of personal
history, and time went by as we enjoyed each others company, occasionally munching the
snacks. In this manner, what could have seemed a long time, passed fleetly under the spell of
revived memories and the good humour that interspersed our more profound deliberations and, to
our surprise, our hour was done and we were called to dine.

We drifted to the carvery self-service bar where we filled our trenchers with copious amounts of
succulences that made it appear we had not eaten for six months. We carefully transported our
brimming plates back to our table. It creaked under the weight of our illegally laden platters.

We began to eat the meal that we had looked forward to with gusto, but were surprised to find
that our appetites had diminished.. After a few mouthfuls, we all quit eating, feeling quite
pogged. At first, we couldn’t understand why, and then, just as dawn breaks slowly over misty
hills, our understandings were opened and we knew where our hunger had gone. We had
snacked rather too well on the cheap fodder, they had plied us with in the bar!

we could only look with sadness upon the mahogany and brass-trimmed carvery bar, filled as it
was with a huge slab of roast beef, a fine leg of pork and all the vegetables that would adorn the
table of a prince. Without an appetite, eating is torture, and we were suffering enough already
without forcing ourselves to push food down our throats just for the sake of it or just because we
had paid handsomely for the privilege of doing so. We had allowed ourselves to be robbed but
we had learned an invaluable lesson.

Out of embarrassment more than anything else, we laughed at our sorry plight. That night as I
lay musing in bed, I remembered the story of those who were invited to the supper of the great
king. Many of those who had received invitations failed to turn up. Each of them had an excuse.
One fellow had to inspect a parcel of land he had purchased. Another had bought a team of oxen
and had to test them, and a further man said he was married and his wife wouldn’t let him out.

All of them ate that day, but they snacked on junk foods rather than feasting at the great table and
had wasted our treasure on cheap snacks – whilst the supper of the Great King lay uneaten on the
table before us. We were unworthy guests.

We have to decide whether we will fill up on tempting snacks, or exercise faith and trust until we
are called the Great feast. (Parable)