This past January President Obama and his wife hosted their first formal State Dinner at the White House to honor the visiting Prime Minister of India. This exclusive and highly-visible social event was the hottest ticket in town. The news media, paparazzi and White House photography staff were busy filming and snapping all the comings and goings. And, as the story broke a few days later, we discovered that at least one couple were “party crashers.” An ambitious socialite couple from Northern Virginia (he the owner of a winery and she a former Redskins cheerleader) showed up in tux and gown, had their pictures taken with the powerful, enjoyed the gourmet food and festivities, and yet were not on the official invitation list. Much of the attention focused on the lax security, the incompetence of the White House staff, and the motives and ambitions of the couple.

It was all a reminder to us of the way things work in the world — and always have worked. Access to the rich, the famous, the powerful, and beautiful and glamorous people is usually limited to the privileged few. Ordinary people aren’t invited to State Dinners at the White House. And throughout history we have seen this principle of exclusivity.

Empress Maria Theresa was the extravagant ruler of the Austrian-Hungarian Empire in the 18th century. She was known for her love of pomp, pageantry and finery. At the wedding of her oldest son Joseph, the Empress arranged to have a huge hall in the royal palace laid out for the wedding feast. Long tables were set for the hundreds of members of the royal family, visiting dignitaries and nobility from other countries. Servants carried in immense platters of rich food. And to top it off, the Empress invited 300 of the most prominent commoners of Vienna (successful businessmen, tradesmen and professionals) to come — not to eat, but simply to stand for a couple hours around the perimeter to watch the royals and their guests eat. And this was considered a great honor!

Most of us have probably never been invited to a White House State Dinner. If we’d lived in Vienna 250 years ago we probably wouldn’t have qualified for the privilege of watching the royal family stuff their faces. That’s the pecking order of the world: not many make it to elite positions.

But the remarkable — even stunning — truth found in our passage of scripture for today is that every one of us has received a personal invitation to dine intimately with royalty. The President / King / Emperor / Lord of Creation is, Himself, delivering that invitation to you and me. He is the One who has already been identified, two chapters earlier at the beginning of the Book of Revelation, as holding the stars and planets in His hand and as having the keys to death and eternal life. His face shines as bright as the sun, which blinds us when we look into it. His eyes see all and His ears hear all. Nothing is outside of His ultimate power. And it is this God-made-man who gently and patiently is knocking at the door of your heart, seeking entrance. He wants to share a meal and intimate fellowship with you, not because you’re famous and rich and powerful, but simply because He loves you and cares about you.

Let me take a moment to put these words in their biblical context. They were written with a specific target: the members of a Christian church in the first century who lived in a town called Laodicea, which was an affluent residential suburb of a blue-collar industrial town called Colosse. In addition to its beautiful homes, Laodicea had within its town limits a well-known medical school, particularly noted for its eye clinic. There were also some significant financial institutions located in the town — banks that guarded the substantial assets of its wealthy citizens. A large cloth mill just outside of town was renowned for producing an expensive, rich purple fabric that was exported around the world. Life was good in Laodicea.

But in spite of their material blessings, there were some problems among the Christians in that town. The root of their inner disease was spiritual apathy and lack of caring. Jesus uses the analogy of lukewarm water. They knew the benefits of cold water, for the stream flowing through their town that was their source of sparkling drinking water came from melting snow in the mountains above them. And they knew the benefits of hot water, for just a few miles away was a natural hot spring which had become a popular resort.

We all have experienced the blessings of a cold iced tea or Coors Light on a hot day, and the invigorating jolt of a hot cup of coffee or tea on a cool morning. But lukewarm liquid is not so desirable. Who wants to drink a lukewarm Pepsi, or step into a lukewarm bathtub?

And the spiritual lesson of this passage is a warning about allowing our faith and our relationship with God to become lukewarm, to lapse into neglect and apathy, to be just “room temperature.” It’s easy for this to happen, as we become distracted or pulled away by responsibilities and hobbies and activities. Like a hot cup of coffee or tea neglected and untouched on a desktop or tabletop while we get busy with other things, our natural tendency is to move to lukewarm. But that’s why we encourage everyone to make it a weekly habit to gather with other Christians for a time of worship and renewal. Our experience here is meant to be like shoving that room-temperature mug of coffee into the microwave and warming it up.

Jesus goes on to speak a blunt yet loving word of truth to His followers in Laodicea. He warns them about their pride, and asks them to take an honest self-inventory in verse 17: “You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind and naked.” They may be prosperous and comfortable materially, but the Lord is speaking to them in a spiritual way. All our money and creature comforts don’t make things right inside us. Only God can do that — and until we let Him inside, we will have a hole in our souls that cannot be filled. Verse 18 continues: “I counsel you to buy from me gold refined in the fire, so you can become rich; and white clothes to wear, so you can cover your shameful nakedness; and salve to put on your eyes, so you can see.”

And then the great culmination of Christ’s appeal to the Laodiceans comes in verse 20: “Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me.” The door on which Jesus knocks is the figurative and symbolic door of our hearts — the door which only we can open, from the inside. He has no intention of forcing His way in, of knocking down your door, or of plundering you. He desires only love and fellowship and oneness with you, symbolized by the offer to “eat with him, and he with me.”

In the Bible, sharing a meal with another person was a demonstration of one’s relationship with them. The Sacrament of Holy Communion is just that: a covenantal and sacred meal, first instituted as one of our most precious Christian traditions during a long and intimate dinner that Jesus shared with His closest friends. We not only re-enact that Upper Room meal when we join in the Sacrament, but we also celebrate the promise of Revelation 3, that Christ will dwell in each of our hearts, intimately and forever.

There is nothing we need to do to earn or qualify for the privilege of the Lord’s intimate friendship and grace. We just have to accept it. None of us are actually worthy of His love. If Jesus established the guest list for His sacred meal—His State Dinner—based on who qualified, every one of our names would be left off the list. But it’s not a matter of being good enough or prominent enough. It’s simply a matter of saying “Yes.”

Please don’t hold back because you think you’re unworthy of God’s love and mercy. Of course you are, but that’s beside the point. Imagine a person suffering through the miseries of a terrible flu or a nasty staph infection, with a raging fever of 103, exhausting diarrhea and vomiting, and alternating aches and chills. We’ve all been there at some point, so sick we can barely lift our head above a pillow. Now imagine that person refusing to go see the family doctor because they’re “too sick,” and have to make themselves better before they can go to the physician. That would be foolish and pointless. Doctors are there precisely to help those who are sick, not those who can get well on their own. And a Savior is precisely what a sinner, a hopeless imperfect person, most needs. We don’t have to clean up our lives, cure our spiritual illnesses, and work to repay all the wrong things we’ve done before we can let Christ into our hearts. No, that’s the first and most crucial step. The changes and healing and cleansing only come after we do that.

As we prepare to celebrate this sacrament, I encourage you to reflect on your spiritual life. If you need to do so, ask Christ to come into your life and be with you; seek His forgiveness for any sins His Spirit reveals to you. If you need His help with a problem, turn it over to Him. And if you’re grateful for a blessing He has given you, tell Him you’re thankful. Let this be your time to open the door and let Jesus Christ come in.