In this fallen world, there are ultimately only two tables—the table of the Lord and the table of demons. This being the case, unbelievers will attempt one of two things—they will overtly choose the table of demons in one form or another, or they will attempt to deny that they must make a choice, and will seek to eat from both tables.
Concerning the former, we do not have a great deal to say, at least not at this moment. God will judge those outside. Concerning the latter, we have a great deal to learn. Of course, in our allegiance we cannot partake of two tables at once. We cannot serve both God and mammon, and we cannot serve both God and our own lusts, and we cannot serve God and the devil. This seems simple enough, and it is—so long as you remember that morbid introspection is an attitude characteristic of the other table. Ironically, many come to this table fearfully, not realizing that the fear is a sin to be repented of. At the great day, in the glorious banquet, in the consummation of all things, not one saint will be seated in the resurrection of the just with a bad case of the sulks, or glowering unbelief, or a spirit of introspective morbidity. But if you cannot have such an attitude then, you may not have it now. Drop it. Let it go. Come — you are most welcome.
One of the things that faithful partaking of the bread and wine does is that it enables you to begin seeing the allurements of the other table in their proper light. Remember, God is dealing with us. Come to this table with trembling, certainly, but with joy and trembling. Love casts out fear, and you are to be seated in love.
You are here in faith. So you will not walk around this table looking in vain for your name on a place card. Not only is it here, but it was written and placed before the world was created. You say you are not worthy—of course not, and it is your recognition that you are not worthy that constitutes your ability to hear the invitation. Come, sit—eat and drink.