Saturday, July 27, 2013

Luke 14:15-24


     Jesus just finished talking of how real generosity is expressed by not inviting those whom you know will be able to repay you on some level. Some of the guests may have been thoughtful at that point, examining their own motives on various matters. Others may have been uncomfortable, not wanting to look at their own interior landscape. Still others may have felt they were being labeled as hypocrites. Whatever else was happening in the minds of the guests at the party, it was probably an awkward moment. The easy flow of conversation whas stopped. One guest, perhaps trying to smooth things over, makes a general comment about how blessed those are who will eat bread in the kingdom of God. This can be seen to follow on Jesus words about the resurrection of the righteous.
      At this point, you have to wonder what was the reaction of the rest of the group. Did they sit back, thinking the awkwardness was eased and Jesus wouldn’t saying anything else? Or, what seems more likely, many of them may have nodded with self-satisfaction, never questioning the assumption that they will be among those chomping down on the divine bread. And what else was going on? Scholars say that it was common at such dinner parties to have a large number of the public present, grouped around the walls, not eating, not reclining as the guests would have reclined (the position then for gracious dining). In a day when there was little entertainment or cultural outlets, the intellectual conversation going on around a dinner of this kind was an attraction alternative for people who would never have been invited otherwise. It was considered acceptable by the host--perhaps the greater number of observers could have been regarded as a status symbol, because the host had thereby acquired a reputation or guest as having the most interesting conversation around his table. With the reputation of Jesus, the number of observers was probably impressive.
     Consider the dynamic. You have the people around the table who were invited and eating their meal. They were the ones who had status, were considered acceptable, and who could join into the conversation. Then there were the uninvited, the silent listeners with little or no status. They went unfed by food but were hungry for things of the mind and soul.
     In today’s world, many couples have begun sending out initial announcements ahead of time for their guests to save a certain date to attend their wedding -- often printed on a magnet so the invited guest can put it on a refrigerator or filing cabinet. The couple may not have put all the arrangements together (where, time of day, etc.) but want to be sure that their friends and family keep that day available. Then, when details are set and it’s closer to the big day, they send out a more formal invitation with a RSVP card.
      Jesus tells a story in which a man has done essentially the same thing, sending out an initial invitation telling people of his impending marriage and the day of the party. The man clearly has wealth and status and has invited a huge number of his friends and associates to share the special day. Then when all is ready and the party is imminent, he sends servants to tell them that it’s ready and now is the time to come. One scholar says that this double invitation was based on a precedent in Esther 5:8 and 6:14. The initial invitation gave guests the opportunity to check whether proper arrangements had been made and whether the right people would be attending the party with them.
      But then we hear a shocking detail. Every invited guest finds an excuse not to come. The excuses are ridiculous. For example, what person buys a field without already inspecting it? The refusal to come also makes no sense. The guests are clearly acceptable, the party promises to be rich and lavish.
      The host is understandably upset. So he sends his servants out to bring in the poor, the crippled and the lame. But the places is still not filled so the master says to go out everywhere else and find people to come in and fill up his house. The initially invited guests won’t eat of the meal.
      Put simply, this parable speaks of everyone getting invited, and when people are excluded, it is by their own choice. It is a parable of “reversal.” Those who considered themselves respectable and wanted by God made excuses. They would have been appalled to see the other guests who sat down at the dinner table. In the same way people of Jesus’ age and in the church ever since, have sometimes patted themselves on the back with the assumption that they are automatically included, acceptable and approved. Under such assumptions, the little excuses, the delays, the wavering of attention go unnoticed or unchallenged by the individual in question.
      Jesus told many stories in which assumptions are perilous things, and inattention to spiritual matters are detrimental. He was uttering a loud wake-up call. Regardless of your beliefs about final judgment, Jesus’ wake-up call is just as important today in a world that has excused itself away from spiritual realities so thoroughly that some folks are starving without any clue where the feast is provided.
      It could be pointed out that Christians and the church are now the servants whose job it is to go out and offer the invitation to the feast. Some traditions are passionate about doing it (though the manner of their invitation frequently turns people away) and others are tentative and simply hope that people will show up. The challenge is to find new ways of being the church, of going out into the lanes and byways without being judgmental or self-righteousness, to offer an invitation that is relevant, meaningful and true to the grace-filled love of God.

What is the hardest thing to you about this parable?
Would you consider yourself one of the seated guests, or one of those standing by the wall listening in?
Have you ever experienced (positively or negatively) someone’s invitation to faith?
Have you ever thought about ways to invite others to faith?

Saturday, July 20, 2013

Luke 14:7-14


     Jesus seems to have been one of fairly large group who is having a meal at the home of a leader among the Pharisees. An observant man, he notices how the guests at the party were choosing places of honor. Today’s world is informal but there are still situations where seating may reflect either the importance of the individual, their official position in the group, or their degree of intimacy with the central host or honoree. At a wedding reception, family and closest friends may be seated at the same table or one near to the bride and groom, etc.
     Jesus, of course, was familiar with people who wanted to feel important--his own disciples had a few issues in that direction. So he told a parable. This parable is begun a little differently than some that Jesus related. It starts with a hypothetical situation...suppose you went to a wedding feast. He asks them to consider what could happen there. Someone assumes he is important and takes a seat that reflects it. But suppose someone else arrives who is considered more important by the host? Imagine how embarrassing it would be for that person to be asked to take a seat with lower status. Far better, says Jesus, to take the seat of lower honor in the room, only to be urged by the host to take a position of greater distinction.
     Jesus concludes by pointing out that those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.
      His final comment ties this parable with other parables and teachings about reversal. It evokes things such as “blessed are the poor.” Or Mary’s song before the birth of Jesus, recorded in Matthew.
      It is possible, of course, that his words at first might have been interpreted by those listening as an almost humorous, perhaps ironic bit of advice on how to better play the game of social positioning. But this interpretation would be overset by his next comment. Even a host of a dinner party is playing that game of position and honor and expectation of a return benefit. Jesus was aware of this, so he tells them that when they had a party, rather than inviting those who can give them something in return, they should invite those who are poor, the lame, the crippled and the blind. Such unfortunate people can do offer nothing in return. By this they will receive blessings at the time of the resurrection of the righteous.
      The question of honor or benefit for our actions is one that is deeply complicated and ambiguous in our motives. Even while trying our best to do the right thing, ego or personal need may get involved. A college professor used to say that, for example, we give money to causes to keep certain things away from us. We may give to help research on arthritis or cancer because we don’t want it to trouble us or our loved ones. Someone who is wealthy may give expecting respect or honor because of their gift. The complication is that giving can also be a form of witness. The generosity of one often inspires others to give. The wise individual who is interested in their spiritual health, will want to be aware of their own mixed motives. A laugh about it also seems healthy, for in trying to be humble, for example, we may get prideful over our depth of humility. The individual who tries hard to do nothing that will win favor or benefits from earthly sources, may also be acting on a quid pro quo expectation with God, expecting good health, happiness, or a “crown in heaven.”
     How mixed motives can get is illustrated in some books of inspirational writings. There are some in which the author tells of their struggle to move up to the biblical expectation of tithing (giving ten percent of one’s income to the work of God). The authors often tell of how their business or income increased every time they gave more. Or there may be a more “spiritual” benefit described. The intention is to encourage people to be generous because it is worthwhile.
      It is ironic that at a mission conference some years ago, one of the leaders urged people to give money generously to people on the streets (someone who asks for help). Some people were concerned and raised the question of whether it would be used for drugs or alcohol rather than for food or shelter. Give without considering that, they were told, give because it is good for your spiritual health. The thinking on this seemed faulty to many people there. They agreed that generous giving was important. It’s important because those who have enough (and usually more than enough) should share of their resources to help the poor, homeless, or ill. It is good for the soul to be generous. But to give without considering how to make the gift effective for the needs of others, and to do it just because it will make the giver fee good, seemed selfish and counterproductive on every level.  It also may divert resources from those who are truly hungry. If someone gives all they have to a man who will use it to feed an addiction, then what of the hungry family who is living in their car? It is easy to give money and pat oneself on the back for generosity. It is harder work to find out how to give wisely. One charitable foundation in the modern world has been criticized at times for coolly calculated how many results it will get for each dollar spent. No one can or has the right to judge the interior motives of those in charge, but it can be observed that they are trying to spend money wisely and do the greatest possible good with the considerable number of dollars they are spending.
      No doubt Jesus would have sympathy with the difficulties the person of conscience may have with whether they are truly giving selflessly, or whether they are secretly (secret even to themselves) giving for ego, status, or some other benefit. He might simply tell us to continue being generous and trying to be effective; don’t let our possibly mixed motives become an excuse for slacking off.
     The whole question of status is complicated. In one part of the world, missionaries taught converts to be humble and that poverty was spiritually healthy. But because the Christians in that culture have the lowest worldly status, in today’s world they and their faith are not respected. That may be fine for their spiritual health, but what of their witness?
      Another situation to consider: No person can abandon the need for public recognition if they are seeking political office. But a good person in politics can do great good.

How much soul searching about mixed motives is helpful?
Can we seek status in the world for good purposes without losing our spiritual compass?
How do we keep a passion for doing good?