A Sermon for The Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost
September 30, 2007
by Pastor Laura Gentry
Luke 16:19-31
“There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man's table; even the dogs would come and lick his sores. The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried. In Hades, where he was being tormented, he looked up and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side. He called out, ‘Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in agony in these flames.’ But Abraham said, ‘Child, remember that during your lifetime you received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner evil things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in agony. Besides all this, between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.’ He said, ‘Then, father, I beg you to send him to my father's house—for I have five brothers—that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment.’ Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.’ He said, ‘No, father Abraham; but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.’ He said to him, ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.’” (NRSV)
Grace and Peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
Day spas with pampering massages and whirlpools are not just for people anymore. Doggie day spas and luxury resorts seem to be a new phenomenon and are popping up all over the country.
Citizen Canine in California, for example, has been named “The Bay Area’s first five star kennel” by the San Francisco Chronicle. Each dog, referred to as a “guest”, is treated to a private room built with walls and ceilings, glass windows and doors, and furnished with raised beds and bedding. Each guest enjoys a private indoor room furnished with a raised bed and bedding. Individually prepared meals are served up to 3 times per day depending on your dog’s age and appetite. Every dog enjoys at least two extended playgroups daily and can receive extra pampering for an additional fee.
Meanwhile, across the country New York's elite dogs are booked with the best hair stylists and enjoy luxury body treatments at the chicest spas. Over-the-top luxury is the name of the game on Manhattan's East Side. The Ritzy Canine Carriage House rivals even the Plaza Hotel for upscale furnishings. The lobby has European crystal chandeliers, antique wall sconces and period artwork. Overnight stays include room service spa meals, private suites and limousine service.
As if the lodging weren't fancy enough, the Ritzy Canine has a full selection of day spa treatments. Your dog can soak in a whirlpool and then indulge in a special massage which combines elements of Reiki, myofascial release and acupressure. Aromatherapy is, of course, available too.
At another spa in New York, Doggie-Do and Pussycats, Too, dogs don't just get soaped up and rinsed off. Instead, Doggie-do professionals provide a soapy massage aimed to relax the dogs and melt away stress. This deep cleansing process, using all-natural botanical products, stimulates skin and hair follicles.
Now, juxtapose this pooch-pampering trend with the message from Amos this morning: “Alas for those who are at ease...for those who feel secure...alas for those who lie on beds of ivory and lounge on their couches...who sing idle songs to the sound of the harp, who anoint themselves [and their pets, I might add] with the finest oils!” While pet spas may be humorous to us, they are but a symptom of the growing and massive disparity in wealth in the United States. In 2006, the poverty rate for minors in the United States was 21.9%, the highest child poverty rate in the developed world. It is shocking that some American dogs have it better than many American children!
The Gospel narrative of the rich man and poor Lazarus is Luke’s way of summarizing Jesus’ teachings about the dangers of wealth. Luke’s Gospel is focused on the poor from the very start, when Mary sings about how through the gift of her son, Jesus, God will bring the mighty down from their thrones and uplift those who are lowly.
Here in the story of Lazarus, the contrast is established between the very wealthy man and the poor one. One is dressed in lavish purple garments of fine linen, the other is clothed in ulcerous sores. One feasts on sumptuous daily meals while the other scavenges for food while stray dogs lick his sores. They are polar opposites, living very different realities. Yet the poor man is given a name: Lazarus. Note that names are very rare in parables.
Then the poor man dies. But he is not forgotten by God as he’s been forgotten by his fellow humans. Upon his death, angels carry him to the bosom of Abraham. He is awarded a place of honor in heaven. Meanwhile, the rich man also dies and has a costly funeral, which is normally a sign of God’s favor.
The parable shifts dramatically with a surprising reversal of fate: the rich man is in torment in the Hades, while Lazarus enjoys the pleasures of heaven. When the rich man looks up and sees Lazarus, he begs Abraham to send Lazarus with a drop of water to cool his torment. It is only now that the rich man first sees Lazarus, who had always lain at his gate. During his lifetime, his wealth created a gulf that made him blind to the sufferings of the poor. Now the rich man finally notices Lazarus—but it is too late. Abraham denies his request.
Having realized how wrong he was to have lived so lavishly while Lazarus suffered, the rich man then begs Abraham to send Lazarus to warn his brothers, who apparently are living in the same lavish style. Abraham replies that they have the same opportunities the rich man had, namely the Law and the prophets—a reference to God’s commandment to care for the poor and the needy and the warnings of the prophets, like those we read today from Amos. Persistently, the rich man shows a deep blindness to God’s revelation. He begs for Lazarus to return from the dead in order to convince his brothers not to make the same mistake. Abraham again states that without listening to the Law and the prophets, the brothers will not be convinced even if someone should rise from the dead!
This parable demonstrates how wealth can take over people’s lives and make them deaf to the teaching of scripture and blind to the sufferings of their neighbors. Today, as many elite zip along the freeways from plush offices to their gated communities in the suburbs, it is no wonder they cannot see the poor at their gates.
But the problem is that it is easy to not see ourselves in this parable. Most of us here this morning do not consider ourselves to be excessively rich people. We do not live in lavish homes or work in fancy office buildings, and we most certainly do not take our dogs to pet spas—in fact, we don’t even use aromatherapies for our pets at home! But don’t be so sure that we wouldn’t be categorized with the rich man in this story. I read that if, for statistical purposes, you could shrink the world’s population down to 100 people, just 6 people would possess 59% of the entire world's wealth and all 6 of them would be from the United States, 80 of the 100 would live in substandard housing, 70 would be unable to read, 50 would suffer from malnutrition, and only one would own a computer (so if you don’t have a computer, don’t feel bad—you’re in the majority). That kind of puts things into perspective, doesn’t it? What we must recognize is that even if we think we don’t have enough and we still need more, we are tremendously blessed. We are called to use the abundance of these blessings to bless others, rather than allowing our wealth to blind us to the plight of the needy.
Also of importance in this story is the prominent role of the “Law and the prophets” to shape our understanding. Christians today believe in the risen Jesus, and, some in Luke’s community felt that this was enough. They thought they no longer had to take seriously the Jewish tradition of justice and compassion for the weak. Sometimes we can get so caught up in the victory that Christ won for us by his resurrection, so hooked on the free grace God offers us, that we can forget that this same Jesus, who offers salvation to us today, is the very one who listened to the voice of Moses and the prophets and offered love and acceptance to the marginalized of his day, while uttering sober warnings to the proud and prosperous. Like the brothers of Lazarus, if we cannot take notice of the mandates of the holy scriptures, the words of Jesus will fall on deaf ears.
This morning, let us take delight in the many gifts that God has given us. May we recognize our abundance—abundance which should motivate us to generously share our gifts and bless those around us, rather than letting these very gifts to be a stumbling block to our faith. It’s not about selfishly indulging in doggie-dos and other excesses of wealth, its about sharing. We are blessed to bless. That’s what we need to be about. And may the words of the Law the the prophets challenge us anew to speak out for justice and dignity for all God’s people.
Now, may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and our minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
© 2007 Laura E. Gentry
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Sunday, September 9, 2007
CONSIDER THE COST
A Sermon for The Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost
September 9, 2007
by Pastor Laura Gentry
Luke 14:25-33
Now large crowds were traveling with him; and he turned and said to them, “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple. For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not first sit down and estimate the cost, to see whether he has enough to complete it? Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it will begin to ridicule him, saying, ‘This fellow began to build and was not able to finish.’ Or what king, going out to wage war against another king, will not sit down first and consider whether he is able with ten thousand to oppose the one who comes against him with twenty thousand? If he cannot, then, while the other is still far away, he sends a delegation and asks for the terms of peace. So therefore, none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.(NRSV)
Grace and Peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
"If you don't hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, you cannot be my disciple. . . . none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions." These are some of the harshest words we’ve ever heard Jesus say. Hate your father and mother? What in the world can he mean? Jesus has been gathering followers everywhere he goes because they see him deliberately include the poor, heal the sick, and proclaim love. This Jesus is now telling these same folks that if they want to stay with him, if they want to be his disciples, they have to give up everything—family as well as possessions. Perhaps his followers are now thinking, "I liked him a whole lot better when he was just preaching about love. But now he’s asking me to change my life!" There's a saying in the South that goes: "The preacher's just gone from preachin' to meddlin'." And that's exactly what Jesus is doing in today's Gospel. He's gone straight to the meddlin' part.
This is one of the toughest Gospel passages. It's tough because it's so radical, and it's radical because here Jesus is challenging his disciples to change their lives completely, to put what they say they believe about God before any of their own comforts. It's a jolt to our ears. We may wonder what his hearers were thinking. Interestingly enough, if we read into the next chapter, Luke tells us that, "all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. And the Pharisees and scribes were grumbling." Those who were on the margins of society weren't scared off by these words. It’s the ones with comfortable lives that become the most afflicted by Jesus’ demands.
In chapter 12 of Luke, Jesus says practically the same thing: if you want to be a disciple, your household may be divided. Being a real disciple is seriously difficult work. People may not like you for it. They may not agree with you. And the price you pay may be high. All through Luke, Jesus points to the cross and all the way along, he challenges the thinking and lifestyles of his listeners. It is not surprising that many are upset with him because of it.
But the tax collectors and sinners keep coming back. Though Jesus challenged them and talked about the cross, he never stopped loving them, healing them, and showing them how much they were loved by God. Even when Jesus really gets to the point of meddling in their lives, he continues to show them how wonderful it is to live the way God wants them to live. Jesus was really doing no more than calling them to look again at how they were living their own law—their own Torah. Many of the religious leaders had fallen away from a true living out of God’s ancient law. Many had let both their material possessions and their desire for power to get in the way of living a godly life.
But the tax collectors and sinners kept coming back. Even if they weren't living perfect lives themselves, they certainly understood what it meant to be rejected, what it meant to be oppressed, what it meant to be living with a cross. And because they kept coming back, they saw that in the midst of the hard times God was still with them. In the chapter before today's passage, Jesus reminds all of them that the kingdom of God was already there, and that the kingdom was like a tiny mustard seed that would grow into so a tree so big that the birds would make their nests in it. The kingdom of God would be a place of support for them. "Go out into the roads and lanes, and bring people in so that my house may be filled," Jesus told them.
But we still have that troubling part where Jesus says if you don't hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters—yes, even life itself—you can't be my disciple. That word “hate” just doesn't quite sound like Jesus. The word he uses her in the original language means to "love much less than." So it isn't a call to hate, but a call to set the right priorities. Putting anything—anything at all—before God skews the rest of our relationships. The key to understanding this Gospel is to look first at how we act towards others. We have to look at ourselves. We have to look at our "Torah" just as the Jews did, at the covenant we've promised to keep. Our Torah is our Baptismal Covenant—the promises God makes to us in our Baptism and the promises we make in return, as a response to that gift.
This Gospel is easier to grasp if we look first at what we're called to in those promises. They tell us how we should act. If we really live out those promises, we'll find that many of our other relationships fall into the proper perspective. We won't be like the builder Jesus used as an example. We'll have the proper foundation to build on; our priorities will be right. We may even see our personal relationships grow deeper and more solid. There will always be the cross, yes, but there is also God's promise of resurrection.
So, how might we put these words into action? First, we need to ask ourselves, “Is my life different because I’m Baptized?” As one of God’s Baptized, I am a disciple of Jesus. Am I living like a disciple? Is God my very first priority—even more important than my need to be comfortable? Even more important than my family? Even more important than my stuff? Am I reaching out with healing love to those in need? This includes those folks who, like the tax collectors and sinners in the Gospel, are marginalized in our society. Let's look carefully how we as individuals care for them, and how we do it as a congregation. In other ways, too, Jesus in our baptism challenges us to look at every aspect of our lives. God wants us entirely and to give God our hearts is difficult and costly. But Martin Luther always used to say that a religion that gives nothing, costs nothing and suffers nothing is worth nothing.
If this passage really makes us squirm and think to ourselves that Jesus really has gone from preachin' to meddlin', that’s okay. As Baptized members of the body of Christ, this Gospel reminds us of how much it costs to be Jesus’ disciple and fires us to follow him more fully.
Now, may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
© 2007 Laura E. Gentry
September 9, 2007
by Pastor Laura Gentry
Luke 14:25-33
Now large crowds were traveling with him; and he turned and said to them, “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple. For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not first sit down and estimate the cost, to see whether he has enough to complete it? Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it will begin to ridicule him, saying, ‘This fellow began to build and was not able to finish.’ Or what king, going out to wage war against another king, will not sit down first and consider whether he is able with ten thousand to oppose the one who comes against him with twenty thousand? If he cannot, then, while the other is still far away, he sends a delegation and asks for the terms of peace. So therefore, none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions.(NRSV)
Grace and Peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
"If you don't hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, you cannot be my disciple. . . . none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions." These are some of the harshest words we’ve ever heard Jesus say. Hate your father and mother? What in the world can he mean? Jesus has been gathering followers everywhere he goes because they see him deliberately include the poor, heal the sick, and proclaim love. This Jesus is now telling these same folks that if they want to stay with him, if they want to be his disciples, they have to give up everything—family as well as possessions. Perhaps his followers are now thinking, "I liked him a whole lot better when he was just preaching about love. But now he’s asking me to change my life!" There's a saying in the South that goes: "The preacher's just gone from preachin' to meddlin'." And that's exactly what Jesus is doing in today's Gospel. He's gone straight to the meddlin' part.
This is one of the toughest Gospel passages. It's tough because it's so radical, and it's radical because here Jesus is challenging his disciples to change their lives completely, to put what they say they believe about God before any of their own comforts. It's a jolt to our ears. We may wonder what his hearers were thinking. Interestingly enough, if we read into the next chapter, Luke tells us that, "all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. And the Pharisees and scribes were grumbling." Those who were on the margins of society weren't scared off by these words. It’s the ones with comfortable lives that become the most afflicted by Jesus’ demands.
In chapter 12 of Luke, Jesus says practically the same thing: if you want to be a disciple, your household may be divided. Being a real disciple is seriously difficult work. People may not like you for it. They may not agree with you. And the price you pay may be high. All through Luke, Jesus points to the cross and all the way along, he challenges the thinking and lifestyles of his listeners. It is not surprising that many are upset with him because of it.
But the tax collectors and sinners keep coming back. Though Jesus challenged them and talked about the cross, he never stopped loving them, healing them, and showing them how much they were loved by God. Even when Jesus really gets to the point of meddling in their lives, he continues to show them how wonderful it is to live the way God wants them to live. Jesus was really doing no more than calling them to look again at how they were living their own law—their own Torah. Many of the religious leaders had fallen away from a true living out of God’s ancient law. Many had let both their material possessions and their desire for power to get in the way of living a godly life.
But the tax collectors and sinners kept coming back. Even if they weren't living perfect lives themselves, they certainly understood what it meant to be rejected, what it meant to be oppressed, what it meant to be living with a cross. And because they kept coming back, they saw that in the midst of the hard times God was still with them. In the chapter before today's passage, Jesus reminds all of them that the kingdom of God was already there, and that the kingdom was like a tiny mustard seed that would grow into so a tree so big that the birds would make their nests in it. The kingdom of God would be a place of support for them. "Go out into the roads and lanes, and bring people in so that my house may be filled," Jesus told them.
But we still have that troubling part where Jesus says if you don't hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters—yes, even life itself—you can't be my disciple. That word “hate” just doesn't quite sound like Jesus. The word he uses her in the original language means to "love much less than." So it isn't a call to hate, but a call to set the right priorities. Putting anything—anything at all—before God skews the rest of our relationships. The key to understanding this Gospel is to look first at how we act towards others. We have to look at ourselves. We have to look at our "Torah" just as the Jews did, at the covenant we've promised to keep. Our Torah is our Baptismal Covenant—the promises God makes to us in our Baptism and the promises we make in return, as a response to that gift.
This Gospel is easier to grasp if we look first at what we're called to in those promises. They tell us how we should act. If we really live out those promises, we'll find that many of our other relationships fall into the proper perspective. We won't be like the builder Jesus used as an example. We'll have the proper foundation to build on; our priorities will be right. We may even see our personal relationships grow deeper and more solid. There will always be the cross, yes, but there is also God's promise of resurrection.
So, how might we put these words into action? First, we need to ask ourselves, “Is my life different because I’m Baptized?” As one of God’s Baptized, I am a disciple of Jesus. Am I living like a disciple? Is God my very first priority—even more important than my need to be comfortable? Even more important than my family? Even more important than my stuff? Am I reaching out with healing love to those in need? This includes those folks who, like the tax collectors and sinners in the Gospel, are marginalized in our society. Let's look carefully how we as individuals care for them, and how we do it as a congregation. In other ways, too, Jesus in our baptism challenges us to look at every aspect of our lives. God wants us entirely and to give God our hearts is difficult and costly. But Martin Luther always used to say that a religion that gives nothing, costs nothing and suffers nothing is worth nothing.
If this passage really makes us squirm and think to ourselves that Jesus really has gone from preachin' to meddlin', that’s okay. As Baptized members of the body of Christ, this Gospel reminds us of how much it costs to be Jesus’ disciple and fires us to follow him more fully.
Now, may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
© 2007 Laura E. Gentry
Sunday, September 2, 2007
COME FRIEND, SIT UP HIGHER
A Sermon for The Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost
September 2, 2007
by Pastor Laura Gentry
Luke 14:1, 7-14
On one occasion when Jesus was going to the house of a leader of the Pharisees to eat a meal on the sabbath, they were watching him closely.
When he noticed how the guests chose the places of honor, he told them a parable. "When you are invited by someone to a wedding banquet, do not sit down at the place of honor, in case someone more distinguished than you has been invited by your host; and the host who invited both of you may come and say to you, `Give this person your place,' and then in disgrace you would start to take the lowest place. But when you are invited, go and sit down at the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he may say to you, `Friend, move up higher'; then you will be honored in the presence of all who sit at the table with you. For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted."
He said also to the one who had invited him, "When you give a luncheon or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, in case they may invite you in return, and you would be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. And you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous." (NRSV)
Grace and Peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
In the scene from today’s Gospel reading, Jesus has been invited to dinner at the home of a very well-known Pharisee. As he enters the house, people are watching him. He has stirred up all kinds of controversy before, what is he going to do next, they wonder. In the verses that our lectionary skips, Jesus poses a question to these watchers. He says, “Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath?” No one says a word. We already know what Jesus thinks about this issue. Last week, we read about how he healed a woman on the Sabbath—choosing people over rules. But Jesus wants them to recognize this also, so he singles out a man with dropsy (a retention of fluid) and heals him on the spot. This is an offense to the host, for he has performed an illegal healing on the Sabbath—in the distinguished Pharisee’s home, no less! People must be gasping in disbelief. The tension is so thick, you can cut it with a knife. But Jesus doesn’t stop here.
For just then, it is dinner-time and the other guests scurry to find their seats. In the Hebrew culture, the seating chart was extremely important—where a person sat, demonstrated his place in the hierarchical societal structure. Pharisees were especially noted for their careful attention to banquet rules, since they were concerned about purity. So the Pharisees gathered here proceed to seek out the best possible places for themselves, to show their great status and ritual purity. Therefore, Jesus-the-rude-houseguest opens up his mouth again and offers two pieces of unsolicited advice.
He begins with criticizing the guests for how they have jockeyed for positions of prominence at the table, instead of humbling themselves. He talks about how they should behave when they are invited to a wedding banquet (and the fact that he uses wedding as an example clues us into the fact that he is talking about the kingdom of heaven, which is often likened to a wedding banquet). He tells them, “Do not sit down at the place of honor, in case someone more distinguished than you has been invited by your host; and the host who invited both of you may come and say to you, `Give this person your place,' and then in disgrace you would start to take the lowest place. But when you are invited, go and sit down at the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he may say to you, `Come, Friend, sit up higher'; then you will be honored in the presence of all who sit at the table with you. For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted."
Jesus’ advice is to follow Solomon’s wisdom in the Proverbs: don’t get pushy, don’t recognize yourself, wait for the host to recognize you. So Jesus is saying that the humble will be honored, while the honored will be humbled—this kind of inversion of honor is a constant motif in the Gospels. Recall, if you will, the words that Jesus’ mother used when she learned that she would bear the son of God: “My soul doth magnify the Lord, for he has regarded the low estate of his handmaiden. He has knocked the mighty from their thrones and exalted those of low degree.” Jesus is all about exalting the humble and humbling the exalted—inverting the power structure.
This is a heavy concept in a very hierarchical society. Jesus comment has disgraced all of the guests, because they hadn’t been humble in choosing their places. This kind of humility—of voluntarily choosing the lower place, does not come easy for the Pharisees to whom Jesus is speaking, nor does it come easy for us. How often do we humble ourselves instead of being puffed up and trying to gain status for our own selves? It’s not a natural human response, but it is one that Jesus is trying to teach us.
Then, Jesus goes on to criticize the host himself for his exclusive guest list. In the Pharisees’ perpetual quest for ritual purity, they had formed “eating clubs,” where they could feel at home because only ritually pure people were allowed to attend. This way, they could sit comfortably at table and reflect upon the Scriptures. There was also the tradition in these “clubs,” that they would invite one another back and forth for dinner. If a person were to get invited to the home of a prominent Pharisee, it would boost his social status, so people were careful to invite honorable guests to their gatherings, in hopes that these guests would return the favor. Some religious groups celebrated these meals as an anticipation of the great banquet to come in heaven, but they specifically prohibited “the lame, the blind, and the crippled” from attending, because they were not considered ritually pure.
Jesus crashes down upon this kind of exclusivism and power-seeking. He says: "When you give a luncheon or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, in case they may invite you in return, and you would be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. And you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous." The poor, crippled, lame and blind have no power or money and they could never repay a dinner invitation, plus they are considered unholy because of their physical conditions. No Pharisee would dream of inviting them to dinner! Yet it is these very people, the excluded ones, that Jesus means to include. In fact, he tells them that if they do so, God will personally repay them in heaven. That’s how strongly God feels about the marginalized of society.
You see, Jesus is emphasizing that true honor and power come from God alone, and will not be given in this life. And the only way to get it is to not seek it for yourself—but instead to seek the honor and power for those who have none. He makes it clear that humbling yourself means thinking about other people—serving them, that's what it means. The counsel that you should humble yourself occurs ten times in the Gospels, as much as loving your neighbor. If you want to insure your salvation, stop thinking about your salvation, and start thinking about somebody else, it is only then that God will tell you, “Come, Friend, sit up higher!”
Let me give you an example of this power of this kind of humility. Harvard Professor Robert Coles, wrote a book about Dorothy Day. In it, there is this anecdote. Dorothy Day, as you know, is that famous Catholic social worker, the founder of the Catholic Worker. When Coles was a medical student at Harvard, he volunteered to work at the Catholic Worker. He was a Harvard graduate. He was in medical school. He was going to be a psychiatrist. In this society, that is about as high a status as you can get. He knew that. He was really proud of it. He was also proud that as this person with all these credentials, he was volunteering to help the poor—he was sure it would cause others to notice him.
He arrived at the premises of the Catholic Worker. He asked to see Dorothy Day. He went right to the top. The person said that she was in the kitchen. So, he went into the kitchen, saw her sitting at a table, talking to someone. He had enough medical training to recognize that the man that she was talking to was addicted to some dangerous substance. He was disheveled. He was obviously a homeless street person. She was sitting at table with him, listening intently to what he had to say.
Here was Dorothy Day, sitting at table with this street person, giving him her full attention. She had not even noticed Coles come in the room. She was doing just as Jesus instructs in this parable—she was exalting the humble man and was humbling Coles, the distinguished man. Embarrassed about not being noticed, Coles stood beside the door and waited for quite a while for her to finish. When she finally finished the conversation and stood up, she noticed Coles. She asked, "Do you want to speak to one of us?"
He was astounded. Dorothy Day was famous! This man with her was a nobody. He was a derelict. "You wanted to speak to one of us?" Coles had never seen anything like this before. Humility that can identify with another person so completely as to remove all distinctions between them. It cut through all of the boundaries, all the categories that society sets up to separate us from one another. There were just two people, brother and sister, the sister concerned about the brother.
This experience changed his life. Coles said he learned more in that one moment than he did in four years at Harvard. He saw in one moment what it means to humble yourself as our Lord did, "who did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but humbled himself, and took on the form of a servant."
Jesus words in today’s Gospel text are hard to take: “For he who exalts himself will be humbled and he who humbles himself will be exalted.” Yet, that is exactly what he has given us. May we take this scripture to heart and focus on the marginalized people of our own community—the poor, the disabled, the addicts, the “different”—anyone that society looks down upon for any reason. Christ calls us to include them, to befriend them, to serve them—even though it might be frowned upon by our friends and neighbors. If we say to these people with our words and actions, “Come, Friend, sit up higher!” then Christ promises we will hear that statement echoed in heaven, when God says to all those of humble heart, “Come, Friend, sit up higher!” Amen.
Now, may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
© 2007 Laura E. Gentry
September 2, 2007
by Pastor Laura Gentry
Luke 14:1, 7-14
On one occasion when Jesus was going to the house of a leader of the Pharisees to eat a meal on the sabbath, they were watching him closely.
When he noticed how the guests chose the places of honor, he told them a parable. "When you are invited by someone to a wedding banquet, do not sit down at the place of honor, in case someone more distinguished than you has been invited by your host; and the host who invited both of you may come and say to you, `Give this person your place,' and then in disgrace you would start to take the lowest place. But when you are invited, go and sit down at the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he may say to you, `Friend, move up higher'; then you will be honored in the presence of all who sit at the table with you. For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted."
He said also to the one who had invited him, "When you give a luncheon or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, in case they may invite you in return, and you would be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. And you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous." (NRSV)
Grace and Peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
In the scene from today’s Gospel reading, Jesus has been invited to dinner at the home of a very well-known Pharisee. As he enters the house, people are watching him. He has stirred up all kinds of controversy before, what is he going to do next, they wonder. In the verses that our lectionary skips, Jesus poses a question to these watchers. He says, “Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath?” No one says a word. We already know what Jesus thinks about this issue. Last week, we read about how he healed a woman on the Sabbath—choosing people over rules. But Jesus wants them to recognize this also, so he singles out a man with dropsy (a retention of fluid) and heals him on the spot. This is an offense to the host, for he has performed an illegal healing on the Sabbath—in the distinguished Pharisee’s home, no less! People must be gasping in disbelief. The tension is so thick, you can cut it with a knife. But Jesus doesn’t stop here.
For just then, it is dinner-time and the other guests scurry to find their seats. In the Hebrew culture, the seating chart was extremely important—where a person sat, demonstrated his place in the hierarchical societal structure. Pharisees were especially noted for their careful attention to banquet rules, since they were concerned about purity. So the Pharisees gathered here proceed to seek out the best possible places for themselves, to show their great status and ritual purity. Therefore, Jesus-the-rude-houseguest opens up his mouth again and offers two pieces of unsolicited advice.
He begins with criticizing the guests for how they have jockeyed for positions of prominence at the table, instead of humbling themselves. He talks about how they should behave when they are invited to a wedding banquet (and the fact that he uses wedding as an example clues us into the fact that he is talking about the kingdom of heaven, which is often likened to a wedding banquet). He tells them, “Do not sit down at the place of honor, in case someone more distinguished than you has been invited by your host; and the host who invited both of you may come and say to you, `Give this person your place,' and then in disgrace you would start to take the lowest place. But when you are invited, go and sit down at the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he may say to you, `Come, Friend, sit up higher'; then you will be honored in the presence of all who sit at the table with you. For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted."
Jesus’ advice is to follow Solomon’s wisdom in the Proverbs: don’t get pushy, don’t recognize yourself, wait for the host to recognize you. So Jesus is saying that the humble will be honored, while the honored will be humbled—this kind of inversion of honor is a constant motif in the Gospels. Recall, if you will, the words that Jesus’ mother used when she learned that she would bear the son of God: “My soul doth magnify the Lord, for he has regarded the low estate of his handmaiden. He has knocked the mighty from their thrones and exalted those of low degree.” Jesus is all about exalting the humble and humbling the exalted—inverting the power structure.
This is a heavy concept in a very hierarchical society. Jesus comment has disgraced all of the guests, because they hadn’t been humble in choosing their places. This kind of humility—of voluntarily choosing the lower place, does not come easy for the Pharisees to whom Jesus is speaking, nor does it come easy for us. How often do we humble ourselves instead of being puffed up and trying to gain status for our own selves? It’s not a natural human response, but it is one that Jesus is trying to teach us.
Then, Jesus goes on to criticize the host himself for his exclusive guest list. In the Pharisees’ perpetual quest for ritual purity, they had formed “eating clubs,” where they could feel at home because only ritually pure people were allowed to attend. This way, they could sit comfortably at table and reflect upon the Scriptures. There was also the tradition in these “clubs,” that they would invite one another back and forth for dinner. If a person were to get invited to the home of a prominent Pharisee, it would boost his social status, so people were careful to invite honorable guests to their gatherings, in hopes that these guests would return the favor. Some religious groups celebrated these meals as an anticipation of the great banquet to come in heaven, but they specifically prohibited “the lame, the blind, and the crippled” from attending, because they were not considered ritually pure.
Jesus crashes down upon this kind of exclusivism and power-seeking. He says: "When you give a luncheon or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, in case they may invite you in return, and you would be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. And you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous." The poor, crippled, lame and blind have no power or money and they could never repay a dinner invitation, plus they are considered unholy because of their physical conditions. No Pharisee would dream of inviting them to dinner! Yet it is these very people, the excluded ones, that Jesus means to include. In fact, he tells them that if they do so, God will personally repay them in heaven. That’s how strongly God feels about the marginalized of society.
You see, Jesus is emphasizing that true honor and power come from God alone, and will not be given in this life. And the only way to get it is to not seek it for yourself—but instead to seek the honor and power for those who have none. He makes it clear that humbling yourself means thinking about other people—serving them, that's what it means. The counsel that you should humble yourself occurs ten times in the Gospels, as much as loving your neighbor. If you want to insure your salvation, stop thinking about your salvation, and start thinking about somebody else, it is only then that God will tell you, “Come, Friend, sit up higher!”
Let me give you an example of this power of this kind of humility. Harvard Professor Robert Coles, wrote a book about Dorothy Day. In it, there is this anecdote. Dorothy Day, as you know, is that famous Catholic social worker, the founder of the Catholic Worker. When Coles was a medical student at Harvard, he volunteered to work at the Catholic Worker. He was a Harvard graduate. He was in medical school. He was going to be a psychiatrist. In this society, that is about as high a status as you can get. He knew that. He was really proud of it. He was also proud that as this person with all these credentials, he was volunteering to help the poor—he was sure it would cause others to notice him.
He arrived at the premises of the Catholic Worker. He asked to see Dorothy Day. He went right to the top. The person said that she was in the kitchen. So, he went into the kitchen, saw her sitting at a table, talking to someone. He had enough medical training to recognize that the man that she was talking to was addicted to some dangerous substance. He was disheveled. He was obviously a homeless street person. She was sitting at table with him, listening intently to what he had to say.
Here was Dorothy Day, sitting at table with this street person, giving him her full attention. She had not even noticed Coles come in the room. She was doing just as Jesus instructs in this parable—she was exalting the humble man and was humbling Coles, the distinguished man. Embarrassed about not being noticed, Coles stood beside the door and waited for quite a while for her to finish. When she finally finished the conversation and stood up, she noticed Coles. She asked, "Do you want to speak to one of us?"
He was astounded. Dorothy Day was famous! This man with her was a nobody. He was a derelict. "You wanted to speak to one of us?" Coles had never seen anything like this before. Humility that can identify with another person so completely as to remove all distinctions between them. It cut through all of the boundaries, all the categories that society sets up to separate us from one another. There were just two people, brother and sister, the sister concerned about the brother.
This experience changed his life. Coles said he learned more in that one moment than he did in four years at Harvard. He saw in one moment what it means to humble yourself as our Lord did, "who did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but humbled himself, and took on the form of a servant."
Jesus words in today’s Gospel text are hard to take: “For he who exalts himself will be humbled and he who humbles himself will be exalted.” Yet, that is exactly what he has given us. May we take this scripture to heart and focus on the marginalized people of our own community—the poor, the disabled, the addicts, the “different”—anyone that society looks down upon for any reason. Christ calls us to include them, to befriend them, to serve them—even though it might be frowned upon by our friends and neighbors. If we say to these people with our words and actions, “Come, Friend, sit up higher!” then Christ promises we will hear that statement echoed in heaven, when God says to all those of humble heart, “Come, Friend, sit up higher!” Amen.
Now, may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.
© 2007 Laura E. Gentry
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