Luke 14:1,7-14
St. Paul's L'Amoreaux, September 2, 2007
In our lesson from Luke 14, Jesus is giving lessons about life in the kingdom of God. In the first lesson, he is giving instructions on how to be a good guest. On the surface, what he said isn't much different from common Jewish table manners. And yet it says that Jesus was telling a parable. Parables, as you know, were used by Jesus to teach about life in the Kingdom of God. And against those who are always trying to calculate some little advantage for themselves and trying to climb to some better position, Jesus says simply, "Those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted."
And in the second saying in which Jesus is addressing the host of a banquet, you could say, on the one hand, it's a lesson in delayed gratification. Advantages missed now by inviting the poor, lame, and blind will be multiplied later at the resurrection. And if that were the only appeal, then it's actually a stronger appeal to the same basic motive for gain and advantage of those who are calculating in their choice of dinner guests.
But there is a reason to believe that something else far greater is intended. In the lesson Jesus says that if you give a banquet and host these kinds of needy people, you will be blessed. The word "blessed" is important because it is a word ordinarily reserved for the joy of living in the Kingdom of God. It is the word used in the beatitudes - blessed are you poor, hungry, mournful and persecuted (Lk. 6:20-23).
Furthermore, the two lists of those to invite and not to invite are also important.
The first list of those not to invite provides a warning that the people we ordinarily aspire to be like and aspire to be with may not be as reliable as we might first think. Our first impression may be that here's another example of us being asked to give up for the sake of others and to think of others first. In fact, what we may have here is a warning. These people may not be as good to you or for you as you think they might be. If you are pinning your hopes on the shoulders of family, friends, and those of wealth and influence, you may end up disappointed. Jesus issued the warning of which he himself would feel the effects. In chapter 21, verse 16, he says: "You will be betrayed even by parents and brothers, by relatives and friends; and they will put some of you to death."
And the reason for this may not be anything particularly dark or conspiratorial. It may be as simple as the fact that if entering the Kingdom of is your goal, you may not have much in common with those whose goal it is not, sometimes including those to whom you are close.
But the second list, those who are poor, crippled, lame, and blind, is similar to the list of people who, long long ago, the prophet Isaiah promised would be delivered by the coming messiah. They are the people Jesus mentioned that day when he announced his messiahship in the temple. They are the people Jesus mentioned when he sent a message to John the Baptist to confirm that he was the Saviour. "Go back and report to John what you have seen and heard", Jesus said. "The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor" (Lk. 7:22).
This isn't a lesson about table manners. It is a lesson about the fulfilment of prophecy, about the hope of all ages coming to pass. About the prophet Isaiah's vision of paradise: ". . . with righteousness he will judge the needy, with justice he will give decisions for the poor of the earth. The wolf will live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the goat, the calf and the lion and the yearling together; and a little child will lead them." (Is. 11:1-9.)
Those of you who read the little travel diary I kept about our trip to Kenya will have read this story already. But during our time in Kenya, I was advised to look out for a short, quiet and unassuming priest by the name of John Njuguna. He won't draw much attention to himself, I was told, but over the course of his ministry he has been a tremendous pastor and has planted nearly 25 churches. Fortunately, he was one of the first people I met when we arrived in Bungoma, and we visited every time we were together.
Our first Sunday there, we were gathered on the grounds of the Wycliffe Centre, and Fr. John was very happy. "What a great day this is," he told me. "Seven years ago," he said while pointing across the field to the northern corner of the property, "I started this church. It was a very bad area, run by thieves. People who came into it, herding cattle, or carrying chickens, or riding on bikes, might enter with something, but left with nothing."
I asked him what he did.
"Well," he said, "the first thing I did was go into their homes. I told them that God loved them. I told them that I was their friend, and now, they were my friends. And I told them that they were welcome to come to my church." And then, very deliberately he said, with a wave of his hand back and forth ‑ "I didn't talk about any bad things" ‑ meaning, he didn't raise the subject of their thievery.
"I kept visiting," he said, "and gradually they started coming to the church. After a while, they began to step forward in order to be baptized. I welcomed them, but I told them, `God loves you, but God needs you to serve him. Therefore, when I baptize you, there are some things you can no longer do.'" "This region has been transformed," he told me with a smile, pointing out in the crowd at least three of the former thieves, one of whom has become a local evangelist.
I don't know how you hear all this, but the tipped-over world that Jesus describes presents a great challenge. It challenges our loyalties. It challenges us with demanding ministry to people in need. But the challenge of this kind of ministry and this kind of living is rewarded many times over with the rich fellowship of humble people and the first taste of the paradise to come - when the miseries, hatreds, jealousies and cruelties of this world will have a place no more. And it is a kind of living rewarded with the joy of sharing in Jesus' redemption of the world.
Our Lord has invited us to his table. And as our gospel lesson teaches, we are all invited, no matter what our circumstance. Whether we be rich or poor, strong or weak, Jew or Gentile. But the invitation is also given with great urgency. A feast is being held, and the host will not tolerate excuses. In fact, he is sending out his servants to invite anyone who will come until every seat at the table is full. But it is the banquet in the upper room that consoles us with the assurance of our Lord that He invites us to His table where we will find His mercy to heal our wounds and grace to face the future. And the invitation he has given to each of us He asks us to share with others.
"But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous."
Sermons & Notes
Sunday, September 2, 2007
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