Sermon

A Place at God’s Table

Scripture Text:

Luke 14:1, 14:7-14 Jesus Heals the Man with Dropsy On one occasion when Jesus was going to the house of a leader of the Pharisees to eat a meal on the sabbath, they were watching him closely. Humility and Hospitality When he noticed how the guests chose the places of honour, he told them a parable. ‘When you are invited by someone to a wedding banquet, do not sit down at the place of honour, in case someone more distinguished than you has been invited by your host; and the host who invited both of you may come and say to you, “Give this person your place”, and then in disgrace you would start to take the lowest place. But when you are invited, go and sit down at the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he may say to you, “Friend, move up higher”; then you will be honoured in the presence of all who sit at the table with you. For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.’ He said also to the one who had invited him, ‘When you give a luncheon or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbours, in case they may invite you in return, and you would be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. And you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.’

Sermon:

I have never acted out Jesus’ teaching from the gospel today. I’ve never invited a poor person or an outcast over for dinner, at least not that I’ve been aware of. And I’ve never been to a friend’s house and been asked to change seats because I wasn’t quite a good enough friend to sit on that couch. In today’s Gospel, when Jesus is talking about where we choose to sit and who we invite to our banquets, he’s talking about humility. He’s teaching his disciples that humility – knowing who you are and who you are not – is closely connected to how we think about sharing a meal.

That’s strange, because when I think about being humble, I think about knowing when to keep my head down or my mouth shut. Or I think about quietly going about my business, letting others have what they want, and not paying attention to what I want or feel.

And when I behave in this way, I’m wrong; humility isn’t about erasing ourselves. That’s a false humility, which might border on shame or depression. That means that we look at our shoes and assume that everyone else is better equipped to know what’s what in this world.

False humility means we don’t feel capable of setting a place at the table for ourselves, much less for someone else.

Jesus is also critiquing false pride. That’s not good either. False pride gets us puffed up with importance: we so are proud of our accomplishments that we really don’t see the other folks around the table with us. We can even become too proud of our suffering, so focused on what we’ve endured and how no one else understands, that that becomes the reason we deserve a special seat. I know I’ve been guilty of both.

Sharing a meal and sharing life with other human beings isn’t about a pecking order, It’s about how we sit around the table together. It’s about how we offer seats to each other, and how we share the meal.

First, what kind of seat do you set for yourself? Do you believe you have a place at God’s table, or do you sometimes shy away from it? Do you see your seat as being not as good as the others? Or better than the others? You both have something to offer the people around you, and something to receive.

What kind of seats do you set for the people around you? Jesus speaks to us as if each one of us were capable of hosting a banquetWe, each of us, have been given enough by God that we can share – and I don’t just mean financially. We have been given hearts with room for more than just one, we’ve been given talents that can help more than just one person, we’ve been given strength enough to serve more than just one person.

We are each capable of hosting a banquet and inviting other people to join us.

Sometimes inviting people to a meal means exactly that, and sometimes it’s more like a metaphor – which strangers we chat with, which friends or acquaintances we really listen to and who we stop listening to. But I want to tell you two stories about real meals.

The first is a story about a time when I went Christmas caroling with my church. There was a group of us, and there were a few people who I was sort of avoiding. And I confess a bit of prejudice on my part: one woman had a wandering eye, and another woman wore thick glasses. I’m not sure I was totally aware of it at the time, but I think I’d sort of decided these two women weren’t quite “cool” enough for me. But at one point, I ended up in casual conversation with one of them. And I probably asked what her plans were for Christmas, thinking I would hear something about a trip home… but she said that she was just staying in town, didn’t have any plans. And then the other woman said the same thing. And I did something that I still can’t quite believe (because my family is a kind of private, introverted family) – I found myself inviting them both over for Christmas dinner at my parents’ house. Luckily, when I told my mother, she thought it was a good idea, too. And so, my parents and my brother and I had Christmas dinner with these two women who I hardly knew. And we got to know them, and over the next few months, I became quite close to one of them – and Briana and I actually got through some hard times together. A glimpse of the kingdom of God, because of a shared meal.

The second story was on the radio recently.1 Julio Diaz, of New York, was headed home one night when a teenager with a knife tried to mug him. But when the kid started walking away, Julio said, “Hey, wait a minute. You forgot something. If you’re going to be robbing people for the rest of the night, you might as well take my coat to keep you warm.” (Whoa!) The kid didn’t know what to say. And Julio said, “If you’re willing to risk your freedom for a few dollars, then I guess you must really need the money. I mean, all I wanted to do was get dinner and if you really want to join me … hey, you’re more than welcome.” … So the two of them went into Julio’s favorite diner and sat in a booth. Julio remembered: “The manager comes by, the dishwashers come by, the waiters come by to say hi. The kid was like, ‘You know everybody here. Do you own this place?’”

Julio said, “No, I just eat here a lot,” And the teenager noticed: “But you’re even nice to the dishwasher.” Diaz replied, “Well, haven’t you been taught you should be nice to everybody?” “Yea, but I didn’t think people actually behaved that way,” the teen said. … The bill came and Julio said, “Look, I guess you’re going to have to pay for this bill ’cause you have my money and I can’t pay for this. So if you give me my wallet back, I’ll gladly treat you.” The teen “didn’t even think about it” and returned the wallet, Julio said. “I gave him $20 … I figure maybe it’ll help him. I don’t know.” Julio says he asked for something in return — the teen’s knife — “and he gave it to me.”

I don’t know if Julio felt like he was entertaining an angel, and we don’t know if the teen is now on the straight and narrow or if his life is still a bit rocky or what. But people’s lives can be changed because of a meal, because of humility and hospitality.

Because we can step back from our fear or our pride, and invite someone to sit at a table with us, whether it’s a real table or just a hospitable conversation we can have with someone. We each have been given great gifts from God, and we each have been given a place at God’s table. And Jesus shows us that we each have been given the power to invite others to see their place at God’s table, too.

Amen.

1 ” A Victim Treats His Mugger Right”; http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=89164759

Uploaded on August 29, 2010 in by AdamFrieberg

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