Luke 14:7-14

August 29, 2010
Josh Broward

Luke 14:7-14

I have found this passage really difficult this week. Sometimes, understanding a text is really easy. Sometimes, I have to dig and dig in the commentaries and on the internet and in prayer before I really get a feeling what the text says for us and to our world. Other times, like this week, after all of my research and prayer, I’m still scratching my head, standing outside the text asking questions.
Instead of forcing a message based sermon here, today I want to invite you into the questions I’ve been asking. I am honestly not sure about all of the answers, but maybe just asking the questions will give God space to work among us. Sometimes questions are better than answers - especially when I don’t have the answers to give!
What I’d like to do here is talk about a few of the things I’ve learned as I’ve studied this text. Then, as we work through the text, I’ll share some of the questions I’ve been asking.

The first thing we need to understand is what is going on with the guests. In ancient Hebrew culture, where people sit at a dinner is “a public advertisement of one’s status.”1 So, when each person enters the room, they start mentally calculating their public value compared with the other guests: “Well, I’m more important than him. Her farm is twice as big as mine. His father is a Rabbi, but I’m the host’s cousin.” There is the sub-verbal or even open measurement of each person’s status and “value” to the community. Then, people are seated like a ladder of importance, with the most important, most connected people sitting closest to the host.
That phrase “a public advertisement of status” really struck me, and it got me asking some questions. What are the “public advertisements” of our status? How do we try to show other people how important we are? Do we “advertise” ourselves through our cars, our apartments, our furniture, our clothes, our phones? How do we try to show other people how cool we are? How important is it to us to watch the right movies, to listen to the right music, to download the “cool” podcasts, and to wear the right brands?

So Jesus advises people to step out of the status advertising business. He says we don’t need to be self-promoters. Instead, we should intentionally choose the lower, humbler seats. It’s almost as if Jesus tells us to advertise our humility.
And that’s all too easy, right? “Look at me. Look how humble I am. I’m willing to clean the dishes or get the water when no one else was. Look at me. You’ll never see a name brand label on my clothes because I don’t care about labels. In fact, I don’t care so much that you should think I’m cool for not caring. I’m not going to buy the best and latest of everything because I don’t care about technology like you other sell-outs.”
I saw this posted at a site criticizing the emergent church. “I’m not so arrogant as to think I’ve arrived at the truth about anything, but I’m pretty sure everything you say is not only dead wrong but really, really stupid, too.” I have been far too close to this, far too many times. We can get really prideful about our humility.

So that raise a series of more complicated questions. If self-advertising is an ever-present danger for us, then how do we avoid it? What is the line between trying to look decent and using our clothes to show our importance? Should we never pay attention to what we wear? What about fashion? Should we care what is in style or out of style? Wouldn’t we all end up looking like dorks? Should we care if we look like dorks?
What about money and possessions? What is the difference between making sure we have reliable transportation and buying a car that’s a little nicer than we really need? Is it OK to choose a job because it pays more money? How much we consider money when making our decisions about where to work and how much to work?
For apartments, how big is too big? How do we decide? Is too big for you the same as too big for me? Is there a certain number of Pyeong or square feet that are acceptable for each humble Christian in the family?

In the second half of our text, in a step of boldness and maybe rudeness, Jesus tells the host that he has invited all the wrong people to the party. In the social system of Jesus time, dinners and banquets were hugely important. They were the central venue for the establishment of social status. Powerful people gathered took turns throwing lavish banquets so that they could impress each other with their wealth and style. If you wanted to be upwardly mobile, then you wanted to invite people at your level and up to a few social levels above you. After enjoying your banquet, those people higher up would be obligated to invite you to their next banquet, thus raising your social status. The ancient Middle East was like a non-stop gossip column about who was eating with who and where.
Jesus tells people to step out side of that status based favor system. Jesus says we should be completely countercultural and invite people lower than us, all the way down to the lowest economic levels: the poor, the blind, and the lame. Jesus says, “Don’t give out favors just so you can get favors. Give to those who can’t give anything back.”
At first, we are all nodding our heads and agreeing. This is obviously good and true. The poor most need our help, but the poor are also the least likely to get help with the normal social rules. It is obviously better to be generous and giving than selfish and self-serving. Nobody likes a “good old boys club.”
However, things get a little more uncomfortable when we start asking questions. What kind of favors do we give out? Who do we talk to after the worship service? Is it the people we want something from, the people who make us feel good? How generous are we with our smiles? Do we smile often at our family, at our bosses, at the bus driver, at the lady checking us out in Lotte Mart? Who will do you usually eat lunch with? Do you eat with the poor in spirit, those who are blind to their own pride, or the socially lame?

I’ve really struggled with this passage this week. Here are a few examples.
As a pastor here, part of my responsibility is to help our church have a good relationship with KNU. Recently, something really good happened. Nazarene Publishing House does this little devotional book that goes along with the adult Sunday School curriculum, and NPH has been having different Nazarene universities around the world write a few weeks worth of devotionals in each quarter’s booklet. NPH asked me to be the coordinator for KNU’s two weeks of devotionals. This is great for KNU and great for our church, but it raises lots of questions in relation to our text.
There are 14 days worth of devotionals, so 14 people will each write one. Which 14 people should I ask to write? Should I ask the most powerful people in KNU or the least powerful? Do I have an obligation as a pastor to use this opportunity to advance our church’s social status within KNU and to earn some favors for us in the future? Should I ask some people because I owe them a favor, and this would be a good chance for them to get something published? Like I said at the beginning, I don’t have a lot of answers here.

Here’s another example. When we went to Bangladesh, I bought all kinds of little gifts. Some were “Thank you’s” for people who helped us go to Bangladesh, but others were specifically designed to gain favor with the staff of KNU. I told one of our team members the subtext of the gifts: “Here’s a little gift from Bangladesh. Please sign the form or help us out the next time we need it.” That plan worked OK until I got home and realized that I hadn’t bought enough gifts. Then, I had to start thinking about who really needed to get the gifts. Who do we really need to keep good with? Who do I really want to like us so that they will be a little more likely to help us out next time? Is this person more important than that person?
I didn’t really think much about this ... until I read this week’s text. Suddenly, I was on the wrong side of Jesus’ story.
So back to the questions. Is it OK to give gifts to court favor, or is this pandering and exactly the kind of stuff Jesus was talking about? What’s the difference between being a wise player in a large system, and “exalting myself” or our church? What do you think? Was it right or wrong for me to give out gifts to build favor? Would Jesus have done it if he were pastor here? I know, I know ... Jesus would be healing people and raising the dead, so he wouldn’t need favors ... but if Jesus were me, would he give favor gifts? Or would he ... um ... get crucified?

And let’s not just ask questions about me. What about you? What do you do to earn favors from others? How do you try to build your public image? Do you ever give gifts or compliments simply because you want something from that person? And are we giving up a reward from God, in exchange for these little favors from people? What is that reward from God anyway?

Things get a little more uncomfortable when we realize that Jesus is actually doing something really radical with this story. He isn’t just telling us to give to the poor and the outcast. He is telling us to eat with the poor. When we give to the poor, we are giving from a position above (those who have helping those who don’t). When we eat with the poor, the blind, the lame, the awkward, the different ones, then we are inviting them into our social circle. We are experiencing them as equals. We are becoming friends with them.
More of those nagging questions: What does this mean for us? It’s pretty easy for us to give some money or some old clothes. It’s easy for us to talk about establishing some church programs to welcome new people. It’s easy for us to say “Hi. How are you?” to that awkward person at our workplace. It’s much harder to open our homes and lunch tables to people who are different from us.
What does it mean for us to follow Jesus with this text? Should we be less guarding about our private times? Should we change the way we think about our homes - less of a refuge from the world and more of an open space where others feel welcomed and loved? What about our needs for boundaries? What is the limit? How much do we care for others, and how much do we care for ourselves? If we’re always inviting the poor, the blind, and the lame, when do we spend time with our families? Do they become our new families? Are we missing out on Jesus and Jesus’ life because Jesus is actually present in the poor, the blind, and the lame who are NOT present at our tables?
And what does this text have to say about our church? We do a pretty decent job of giving to the poor. We give out kimbap to homeless me. Some of us volunteer at an orphanage or a single mom’s home. We occasionally help people in our community who have a financial crisis. But what would it mean for us to eat with the poor? Our church is remarkably upper-middle class. How much of that is because of language? And how much of that is because we haven’t been all that welcoming? How could we spend more time eating with migrant workers? How could more of us eat with the widows and orphans in Bangladesh? How can we welcome more people from more diverse backgrounds into our social circle as a church?

Here’s the last thing I learned about this text. This text isn’t really about seating charts and invitation lists. This text isn’t even really about humility and hospitality. Fundamentally, this text is about value. Jesus is aiming at the roots of our personal value.
What is the source of our personal value? Do we find our value as a person in the opinions of others? What makes us feel like a good person? What makes us feel worthwhile in the world? Is it our social status? Is it our business success? Is it our education? Is it our clothes? Is it our cool-factor? Is it our popularity? Is it our money?
The subtext of Jesus’ little parable is that God loves us all equally. Nothing can change God’s love for us. Whether other people like us or don’t like us, God still loves us. Whether our social status goes up or down, God still loves us. Whether people owe us favors or whether people give us headaches, God still loves us. Whether we succeed or fail, God still loves us. Whether we write 100 books or doodle in our journals, God still loves us. Whether we get rich or go broke, God still loves us. Whether we lose weight or gain wait, God still loves us. Whether we get married or stay single or get divorced, God still loves us. Whether we make the right decision on this issue or screw it up, God still loves us.
God still loves us, no matter what. God’s love for us will never change. He loves us completely, utterly, 1000%. It is impossible for God to love us more, and it is impossible for God to ever love us less. God’s love for us will never change. That is the core of who we are. That is the source of our value. No matter what, God still loves us.
And God loves everyone else just as much as he loves us. That is the core of our actions and attitudes in the world. She is not just another competitor for the approval of others. She is a child of God. He is not a failure or a waste of time or a loser. He is a person deeply loved by our Father. She is not just someone who might be able to help us some day. He is not just a big man in a position of power. They, too, are children for whom God’s love will never change.
What does it mean for us to live like God’s love for us will never change? How would that free us?
What does it mean for us to live like every person we meet is a person loved by God? How would that free us?