The
writer of the Gospel of Luke liked to use mealtimes as settings for Jesus to teach
a vision of the way God intended creation to work. Examples during table fellowship
became signs of God’s new community transforming our world. To put it a
little more simplistically, if you want to know what heaven is like, pay attention
to how Jesus behaves at mealtime. For the Gospel, table manners matter!
The
occasion for this morning’s Gospel is a formal dinner party given by one
of the learned leaders of the town. Presumably the host invited people because
their company was enjoyed and the guests accepted because they enjoyed the hospitality
of the host and looked forward to meeting Jesus. Yet instead of anticipation of
pleasure and good company, Jesus detects unrelenting tension. The guests arrived,
nervous over who would be seated next to them, anxious about who might be granted
more deference than they, and afraid that they would be slighted or embarrassed.
In turn the host was apprehensive about what people might think if the party did
not meet their expectations or if there had been an unintentional slight or omission
from the guest list.
Jesus
quickly observed that the appetizer of this party was a tray full of envy, suspicion,
and fear, sure to cause heartburn in everyone’s stomach. With exaggeration,
and perhaps a touch of sarcasm, Jesus cuts through all the nervous pretension.
To the guests he exclaims, if you are so concerned about being put down, why don’t
you sit on the ground in absolutely the lowest place possible and then you will
have to be invited up to take a chair. To the host, he says if you are so concerned
over the reaction of the guests, just invite those who would be thankful for any
meal at all.
No,
Jesus is not encouraging us to play a game of who can be the most humble or who
can scramble to the lowest place at the table. Rather Jesus is revealing how empty,
fruitless and ultimately comical much of our anxious scrambling and worry is.
, there will be no scrambling for seats, with the fastest and most powerful getting
a place and the others left behind. God offers an abundant feast for all. God
does not offer a menu that allows for some to go hungry or to be slighted. Indeed
sharing food is a hallmark of God’s meal. Ego-enhancement is not the goal
of God’s dietary plan. God does not wish to embarrass any of us, but for
all of us to enjoy mutual company together.
None
of the other Gospels mention this particular incident at dinner, but in Matthew
Jesus tells a parable about those at the final judgment who are astonished when
God says, “Come. Enter the celebration prepared for you, for when I was
hungry, you fed me; thirsty, you gave me drink; and naked, you clothed me.”
“When did we do all this?” they ask. God replies, “As you did
it for the least of those around you, you did it for me.” Genuine hospitality
is unassuming, it is done out of love, with no additional agendas and is always
a sign of God’s grace among us.
Most
of us would view the struggles of a small farmer, or fisherman, or blacksmith
as lingering relics of a bygone era. We are far removed from everyday village
life in Palestine. We pride ourselves in our complicated, hectic, and wired, 24/7
life. Yet the serious struggle over who gets what particular grant or fellowship
or who gets a corner office or who gets noticed by the president or trustees is
not so very different than worry over who got the good seats at a private party
given in honor of a traveling rabbi. We all in some way get caught up in it, and
that is why we need Jesus regularly to come to table with us, cutting through
all our sophistication, reminding us that table manners matter.
Jesus
does not deny the pain and difficulty of everyday life. The Good News is that
Jesus offers a perspective that continually refreshes and renews the signs of
God at work. That is why I wonder if the old blacksmith from PEI, even in his
joy, wasn’t completely taken back, and was able to nod his head and to answer
St. Peter, “Ah yes, now I see.”
And I offer this to you in the name of the Loving and Living God, Amen.
