Göttinger Predigten
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The fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost, 08/28/2016
Sermon on Luke 14:1.7-14, by Brad Everett
A quick read of today’s gospel might give one the impression that our Lord is doing little more than offering the Pharisees (and subsequent readers and hearers of this text) some helpful etiquette advice. Kind of a 1 C Miss Manners or Emily Post counsel on how to conduct oneself at a dinner, as well as tips on how to host such an event.
Of course his guidance that one should always err on the side of modesty i.e. when in doubt, go sit at the lowest rather than highest place, is helpful—something we can make use of today. But as is always the case with Jesus, there is much more going on here than we might first suppose. In this instance, commentary on “where one should sit when there are no place cards” provides an opening for a deeper discussion of who we are before God.
Why would someone take the seat of honor? For the sake of appearances. To try and present oneself as being important, powerful, honored etc. so that others at the event will think of them in that way.
What would provoke such behavior? Oddly enough, motivations at opposite ends of the spectrum— pride and self-doubt.
The arrogant person thinks themselves deserving, and perhaps even owed the high regard of others and so will do whatever is needed to not just create but maintain such an image.
The person troubled with self-doubt, wants to create a façade that others will buy into. To combat questions regarding their own value, they work hard to create an image to trick the rest of the world into thinking better of them than they do of themselves.
In short both motivations come from a faulty sense of self.
Jesus gives a second example of this behavior when he comments on whom one should invite to a luncheon or a dinner. He notes that most invitations are extended on the basis of “what’s in it for me” i.e. how will I be repaid. And not just in terms of a return invite, but what can be gained in terms of influence and popularity, and in that way one’s sense of pride can remain inflated or the façade against low self esteem can be maintained.
Such behavior is part and parcel of life in this sinful and fallen world. We have all known people who have engaged in such behaviours – chances are we may have even done so ourselves on occasion. And it may have even been the case that the motivation was not malevolent. One might do these things because they are overly concerned of what others might think, anxious of the opinions of others.
And as is the case with most sin, this is just sad. I heard a famous author comment how at an early stage of his career, how miserable he was even though he was receiving praise and accolades for his work. He never enjoyed it because he was so worried about how he would be judged that he was always scrambling to figure out the next big thing, consumed with being successful, only later realizing that he didn’t have a good idea of what exactly this goal of “successful” he was striving for looked like.
Jesus came to set us free from sin and its effects. He came to graciously release us from the bonds of pride and self-doubt so we could rest in his love and mercy, and be done with needing to continually prove our worth to others or ourselves.
The focus is no longer, what do I think or what do others believe about me, but “what does Jesus say”? As we read the gospels we see that Jesus didn’t spend a whole lot of time wondering and worrying about what kind of impression he was making on others. That doesn’t mean he cavalierly dismissed what others thought—just that the opinions of others took a distant second place to, and were understood through the lens of, the Father’s love for Him as the Son.
He lived in and lived out of the love of the Father. Those who received him, received him, those who rejected him rejected him and he wasn’t going to try to become something or someone else to try and satisfy the arbitrary demands of others.
Thus he could comfortably hang out and eat supper with groups of tax collectors and prostitutes, as well as with the religiously elite Pharisees. He could encourage his hearer to take the lowest place, because having the ‘best seat’ paled in comparison to the favor of being a child of God almighty. He could tell his host to be not to be concerned about inviting only the best and brightest or the rich and famous, but instead the outcasts, the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind. The chances are slim to none that any of these will ever return the invitation, but ‘who cares!?’ By inviting them and putting God’s grace into action you have the better part—the grace of God at work in your life now and for eternity. What’s more important—party invitations, or the mercy of God; popularity and prominence among ones’ peers or experiencing the peace that comes from resting in God’s love?
This is the power of God at work. We don’t usually think of what Jesus describes here as acts of power but that is what they are. As George Buttrick noted in his book on Jesus’ parables, “power is properly understood only in the light of its purpose. Niagara Falls has titanic strength to sweep a person to destruction, or turn giant wheels, but is has no power to forgive sins, or teach a child to pray. Power is estimated aright only in the light of purpose. If God’s purpose is a garden of redeemed humanity, the true almightiness is an almightiness of holy love.”
So in this way taking the lowest seat and eating with outcasts is the power of God in action, because its purpose is to allow others to know, experience and be transformed by the love of God.
It is the power of this love at work that allowed Jesus to live the life he did—giving of himself even to death on the cross for our sake. It is the power of this love at work that enables one to forgive what others might think unforgiveable. It is the power of this love at work that so transforms a person’s understanding of themselves that they willingly humble themselves into crazy situations and circumstances, taking the lowest seat, inviting the most unlikely guests for a banquet, with no regard for what others might think, doing so solely for love of God and others, because they are confident that the only thing that matters is what God thinks of them—and they know they are loved.
As the Epistle lesson reminds us, Christ is the same, yesterday, today and forever. His word, his love is constant and unchanging. Unlike the fickle and fluctuating standards of this world, a moving target we have no hope of hitting on any consistent basis—Christ’s word about us remains the same. We are dearly loved children of God—that’s that.
We are free to live in the love God promised in our baptism. Free from the bondage to the human opinions, be it ours or anyone else’s. Free to share with others the extravagant love God has showered upon us as his children. Free to let our hearts find their rest in the Lord Jesus Christ.