Luke 14:1, 7-14
Back when Lindsay Lohan’s
career trajectory was moving upward, she starred in a wonderfully horrible film
called “Mean Girls.” The movie played on
all the stereotypes of high school – you had the band geeks, the jocks, the
nerds, the theater kids, and the “plastics” which was a new term for me. The plastics were the extremely popular girls
and were they ever mean. And then there
was Cady, played by Lohan who had lived in Africa her whole life, her parents
had just moved back to the United States and so she enters high school, incredibly
smart, attractive, and completely unaware of the hierarchy of high school
social groups. Therefore she has the
opportunity to figure it all out.
The movie is about Cady’s
trail of figuring out the social dynamics of school and as one would expect she
desires more than anything to become one of the cool girls, a mean girl, a
‘plastic.’ And she does, and overthrows
the queen bee Regina. During that
struggle, here is a conversation taking place at the equivalent of a wedding
banquet – the fancy cafeteria lunch.
Gretchen: Regina, we have to talk to you.
Regina: Is
butter a carb?
Gretchen: Regina, you're wearing sweatpants. It's
Monday.
Regina: So...?
Karen: So that's against the rules, and you can't sit
with us.
Regina: Whatever. Those rules aren't real.
Karen: They were real that day I wore a vest!
Regina: Because that vest was disgusting!
Gretchen: You can't sit with us!
There is a feeling that where you sit in the cafeteria
defines who you are.
Which is nothing new.
The school cafeteria has always existed. In ancient Palestine, there were special
seats in wedding feasts. The men would
recline on couches and a center couch existed for the person of honor. Honor depended on wealth, power, or political
office and if some showed up late to the party, as was often the case, a little
game of musical chairs was played and the most prominent guest would end up in
the middle. If you choose the worst
place in the party, you have no option but to move up if someone lower in
status arrives.
And it is not surprising that we identify with this story
in Luke’s Gospel. We have been
experiencing this since we began in primary school. We dreaded it in middle school, we loathed it
in high school, and we are ashamed of it as adults.
I was walking down the street in my neighborhood the other
day. There are 22 kids on the block and
I mistakenly asked a mom where her child went to school. She responded, but I could sense this mom
was hesitant to share. The public vs.
private school world in Memphis, just another example of the dreadful cafeteria
and having to sit at certain lunch table that defines who we are.
We are all to some extent trying to figure out our place in
life.
A lot of the deep theological concepts that we wrestle with
every single day are not really spelled out in the Bible. If they were, I wonder if you would have tens
of thousands of different Christian denominations all believing they have it
figured out rightly. To some extent this exists because Jesus taught using
metaphors and parables. They are rich
ways of opening up our hearts and minds to that which we can’t really
understand – the rich mystery of faith.
One of the themes that has moved through the sermons the
last few weeks is the Kingdom of Heaven.
As a people of faith we wait for the kingdom of heaven to be ushered in
on earth. Or maybe we believe it is here
now and we can catch glimpses of it from time to time when life is moving in
harmony with God. Throughout the
Gospels Jesus is often referring to the Kingdom of God as a wedding
banquet. So when we hear this parable in
today’s Gospel we should immediately begin asking question – what does this
have to do with the kingdom of God. And
is my struggle to find acceptance and my location in the world not only a present
emotional reality but a spiritual one as well?
I think the first reality is one we know well. In this week’s “Thinking Ahead”, I quoted
Golda Meir, the prime Minister of Israel in the 1970s, who made this snarky
comment to a visiting Ambassador – “Don’t be so humble. You are not that great.” Humility is the remarkable sign of the
ultimate greatness. And boy is it ever
hard to really be humble. We have all
met remarkable life changing people who are doing so much good for the
world. And if they have too much ego,
too much pride, we want nothing to do with them. And when we get really excited about our own
accomplishments, we have to be so careful to temper how we share what are
involved in or our own need for credit.
Which brings me to what I believe the first of two points our Gospel can
invite us to consider about the kingdom of heaven.
The work of God in our lives is pulling us forward to a
greater place of life – the kingdom, and we participate in this action through
humility. The parable of the wedding
banquet encourages the listener to move to the lowest seat in order to be
elevated. The reason being, that
Palestine weddings assumed movement and a constant stream of new visitors. Our humility allows for other people to be
lifted up as well.
What, I am saying is that the kingdom of heaven is full of
many guests. And our humility allows all
to be lifted up in life. This is about
the ministry of all. It is about
humility allowing each gift of each person in this community to take the place
of honor. Our task is about making the
space for all people to use their gifts, to be a part of the community. This is a lesson I need to deeply learn. In my own life, in my gifts of ministry I can
get side tracked into trying to accomplish a lot of tasks and do a lot of
things. And if that inhibits others from
participating, I have pushed my own humility out of the equation. If you are person who operates similarly to
me, today’s Gospel is a chance to reflect about humility and making space for
others.
If you are person who doesn't think your gifts are not
being used, I hope you hear the plea for your presence and your talent. As a people of faith, we do not walk alone,
but are all drawn together to bring about the kingdom of heaven, which brings
me to my second point.
What separates people from the kingdom is an
invitation. Jesus follows up the parable
with another plea to invite the marginalized in society. He reminds the apostles to invite people to
parties that have nothing material to give back, or no other invitations. He mentions the poor, the blind, and the
lame. What is evident is that the people
we don’t expect to be at the party are the very ones we are supposed to be
inviting. It is an extension of the kingdom
of heaven, and who is there… all, the ones who are so hesitant to get involved
with. And while this Gospel is also a
plea to reach out to all, to not do the typical social climbing, or networking
that is part of American privileged culture, this story also points to another
possibility – the kingdom of God is only an invitation away. And guess who has the invitations.
Funny that we have mailed out 350 postcards inviting people
back to be with us to celebrate 25 years of being church. But of course, the parable goes much deeper,
is much richer, and needs much more to be heard. The Gospel make a few claims, one
specifically in Matthew 16:19 where Matthew says, “I give you the keys to the
kingdom.” I think that while we may not
fully ever understand what this kingdom of heaven really is, the reality that
we long for, and we what catch glimpses of from time to time, is only an
invitation away. It is about how we open
ourselves and our community up to be welcoming to all. And how do we as individuals become available? Is it about what we expect in return? Do we seek out friends who are similar to us
and make us comfortable and less available to others? Maybe humility is the
ability to see someone who society sees as having nothing to offer, an to allow
them a space to make an offering.
The kingdom is only an invitation away, and we are called
to be an inviting congregation. I wish I
had definitive answers to what this looked like. And I don’t, but I am excited to be a part of
a conversation that is exploring how we more fully open this property to the
greater community wanting nothing in return except to glorify God. While I wrestle with what an inviting
congregation should be, and what this reality looks like, I think we can be confident,
that our humility can allow for an invitation to be heard. By
our humility, we create space for others to use their gifts, and that is an invitation
all by itself. It is an invitation to leave the school cafeteria. It is an invitation that
all can receive, and it is a good place to begin.
Amen.
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