Broken Yet Royalty: Finding Your Place at the King's Table

January 12th, 2026
by Welton Stoker

From the sermon on December 21, 2025

Broken Yet Royalty: Finding Your Place at the King's Table
In a world that constantly measures worth by achievement, status, and perfection, there's a profound truth that often gets overlooked: no matter how broken we are, we have a seat at the King's table.

The Story of a Broken Man
Deep in the pages of 2 Samuel, we encounter a man named Mephibosheth—a name as difficult to pronounce as his circumstances were to bear. This grandson of King Saul carried a double burden: physical disability and crushing self-perception. When summoned before King David, he didn't see himself as royalty, despite his bloodline. Instead, he referred to himself as "a dead dog."
Think about that for a moment. A dead dog. Worthless. Discarded. Beyond redemption.
How many of us feel this way? Perhaps not every day, but in those quiet moments when life's disappointments pile up, when addiction whispers its lies, when loneliness becomes a constant companion, or when the weight of our past mistakes feels unbearable. We look in the mirror and see someone unworthy of love, grace, or belonging.

The Invitation That Changes Everything
But here's where the story takes a beautiful turn. King David didn't invite Mephibosheth to his table because of anything Mephibosheth had done. He didn't earn his place through achievement or good behavior. David extended this grace because of his deep love for Jonathan, Mephibosheth's father.
This is the heart of the gospel message.
God doesn't invite us to His table because we've somehow earned it. We come broken, limping, carrying our shame and failures. We come as "dead dogs" in our own estimation. Yet the invitation stands firm, not because of who we are, but because of who God is and what Christ has done.

From Death to Life
The apostle Paul captures this transformation powerfully in Ephesians 2. He reminds us that we were once "dead in trespasses and sins." Not sick. Not struggling. Dead. Spiritually lifeless, separated from God, walking in darkness.
But then comes those two magnificent words: "But God."
"But God, who is rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ."
This isn't just about forgiveness. It's about resurrection. It's about being raised from death to life and being seated—right now, in this present moment—in the heavenly places with Christ Jesus. We're not waiting for heaven to sit at the King's table. We're invited to that place of honor today.

The Reality of Grace
Grace isn't just a theological concept to be studied; it's a lived reality that should transform how we see ourselves and others. When we truly grasp that we sit at the King's table—not because we're worthy, but because we're loved—it changes everything.
It changes how we respond to criticism. People may talk about our past, but when you know you sit at the King's table, their words lose their power. As the old saying goes, "The more you talk, the more I'm gonna bend my knees."
It changes how we view our circumstances. You might be struggling financially, facing health challenges, or dealing with broken relationships. But if you sit at the King's table, you're somebody. Your worth isn't determined by your bank account, your job title, or your social status.
It changes how we serve others. When you've experienced the grace of being invited to the feast despite your unworthiness, you can't help but extend that same grace to others. You start looking for other "dead dogs" who need to know about the invitation.

The Blood That Cleanses
The old hymn says it perfectly: "There is a fountain filled with blood, drawn from Emmanuel's veins, and sinners plunged beneath that flood lose all their guilty stains."
Not some of their stains. Not most of their stains. All of them.
Jesus didn't die for part of your sin. As He hung on that cross, thorns piercing His head, blood flowing from His back where they beat Him, nails in His hands and feet—He was taking away every bit of your guilt and shame. The whole thing. Completely. Forever.
This means you don't have to carry that burden anymore. Whatever you did, whoever you were, it's nailed to His cross. People might try to remind you of your past, but you can stand firm in the knowledge that your sin—all of it—has been washed away.

Living From the Table
Understanding that we sit at the King's table should fundamentally change how we live. It's not about earning our place; it's about living from our place.
This means we serve others not to gain God's approval, but because we already have it. We feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and care for the broken because that's what people do when they've been invited to the feast. We become conduits of the same grace we've received.
It means we worship with abandon. When you've been to the table and enjoyed the feast, you can't help but sing. It doesn't matter if you can't carry a tune—when you understand what's been done for you, praise becomes inevitable.
It means we extend grace to ourselves. Too many Christians live under a cloud of guilt and shame, constantly feeling like they're not measuring up. But remember: you're at the table not because you're perfect, but because you're loved.

The Open Invitation
The beautiful truth is that the invitation still stands. Whether you've never come to the table, or you once sat there but walked away, or you're there but have forgotten the privilege—the King is calling you to come and dine.
You don't need to clean yourself up first. You don't need to get your life together. You don't need to prove your worthiness. Come as you are—broken, limping, feeling like a dead dog—and discover that there's a place prepared for you.
The table is set. The feast is ready. And the King is waiting.
Will you take your seat?