Scripture depicts Abraham as a man who reasoned his way to God — looking at the stars, the moon, the sun, and refusing to worship anything that sets. He didn't inherit his faith. He argued his way to it, alone, before any revelation reached him.
That same man, when guests appeared at his door, didn't ask who they were before welcoming them. He hurried to prepare a meal and honored the stranger before he knew the stranger's name. His hospitality wasn't conditional on knowing. It was already in him.
That is the double inheritance this table carries: the willingness to reason honestly, and the instinct to welcome whoever sits across from you. One without the other produces either cold argument or empty warmth. Together they produce something rarer — a conversation that actually goes somewhere.
We don't come with scripts. We come with honest questions and a place at the table. The rest is yours to sit with.