Grace and peace to you from God our father and from our
Lord and savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
Do you remember when you first walked into this this
sanctuary after we moved all the chairs around? I bet the very first thing you
thought was, “where is ‘MY seat?
Where am I going to sit NOW?” Maybe your next
thought was, “gosh it looks like there are a lot MORE front row seats now!
Yippee!” But, I’m guessing that’s probably NOT what your next thought was.
But think about the last time you were a visitor in a new
space. You walk in and stand awkwardly in the doorway, wondering where it’s
“safe” to sit, who it is acceptable to sit with, and whether or not anyone wants you to sit with them. So you
chose a spot and pray that someone will actually talk to you, or at least not notice you if you decide to sit in a corner all by yourself.
It’s the dreaded high school cafeteria, all over again.
All these years later, we can be taken right back there – is everyone staring
at me? Is what I’m wearing ok? What if no one talks to me?
When I was in high school, there was a Christian band I
really liked called Superchick. The first song on their album called “Last one
picked” – which is how we all felt sometimes - goes like this: “High school is
like the state of the nation. Some people never change after graduation,
believing any light you shine makes theirs lesser. They have to prove to
everyone that theirs is better.”
And after graduation, you slowly realize that it still
matters what you wear and where you live, who you’re friends with and what you
watch. There will always be someone with better grades than you, with a bigger
house or better spouse or nicer vacations or smarter kids or newer gadgets. We
may think that we leave prom court and popularity contests behind us the minute
that diploma hits our hands, but the mindset that is ”high school” is never
something we actually get to leave behind us. Even after we graduate, there are
still jocks, nerds, popular kids, winners, and losers, and the “last ones
picked.”
…If I were to ask you to pick someone, anyone from now
back through history, to invite over for dinner, how many of you would pick “Jesus”?
Anybody? My next question would be… “Are you really SURE about that?” Jesus would LOVE to be invited over to your
house, I’m sure…. But then he would probably say some really challenging
things… AND THEN he would probably want to bring over some of his friends… sort of like in the vein of
that well-known children’s book – “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie.” Jesus’s story
might go something like– If you give Jesus an invitation, he’s going to want to bring his friends along….
Illustrator Daniel Erlander drew a picture of this exact
thing: A person is praying and says to Jesus, “Why is it that whenever I ask
Jesus to come into my life, he always bring his friends?” And standing next to
Jesus are people who are poor, hungry, in wheelchairs, and whose skin is darker
than ours.
Are we REALLY SURE we would want to pick Jesus to come
over for dinner?
I think that the leader of the Pharisees must have been
asking himself this exact same question. You may be wondering why Jesus was
over at the house of a Pharisee in the first place. Weren’t they enemies? Well,
not exactly. True, they often went toe-to-toe. But the Pharisees were the ones
who were keeping the Jewish traditions alive in a very uncertain and violent
world. They were not the “bad guys.” But they sometimes got too carried away
with keeping all the rules.
Somehow Jesus was invited into the life of this leader of
the Pharisees. And of course, one of these “friends” of Jesus shows up at the
party. In the verses we didn’t hear from today, Jesus heals a man suffering
from unsightly swelling caused by excessive water retention. This healing happens
on the Sabbath, AGAIN, so Jesus again
is in hot water. So they watch Jesus closely, to see what other trouble he
decides to stir up.
And in perfect Jesus style, Jesus flips the script and is
also watching THEM. He sees these men – because after all only men were invited- and observes them jockey
for position at the table, desperate to NOT be the “last one picked.”
Here Jesus is addressing how we are to act when we are
both GUESTS and when we are HOSTS. But he is not simply being “Miss Manners.” He
is actually proposing a way that is a complete reversal of the way we are used
to things: Don’t sit in the places of honor. Instead, take the lowest place for
yourself. When you give a party, invite those people who would never get an invitation,
like the “last ones picked” by the world. Because that’s who God
invites to the table.
We are GUESTS at God’s banquet, not the hosts. We are NOT
in charge of the seating arrangement or the guest list. But we still try our
darndest to keep some people out of
the banquet, when they have clearly been invited and picked by Jesus.
I remember
participating in a cross cultural class based in Chicago where we learned about
some of the diverse contexts and great ministries happening in the city. I
stayed with a host family – friends of a good friend of mine, and I was happy
to hear about a homeless ministry that their church was a part of. Their church
would host homeless people in their building overnight in their gym one night a
week, and provide them a meal. Their night was Saturday. So Saturday night, I
got to help serve the meal and talk to a few of the people staying there that
night.
The next morning, when I went to my friend’s church for
worship, I walked through their gym to get to the sanctuary, where only the
smell of bleach revealed that just a few hours before a dozen people had spent
the night there. Not a single person who stayed the night stuck around for
worship. I later learned at as a term of being part of this ministry, the
council has stipulated that ALL SIGNS of the previous night MUST BE long gone
by morning worship. Of COURSE these people were “welcome” to stay for worship….
But not surprisingly NO ONE ever came.
On the flip side, someone like the Pope has plenty of
reasons to be very strict about who he gets to spend his time with. But just
last April, Pope Francis invited some very special guests over for lunch. Not anyone
famous like Desmond Tutu or President Obama. He invited refugee families from
Syria to eat with him. Then he let their children sit with him as they showed
him pictures they had drawn, both of their harrowing escape from Syria, but
also of their hopes for a better life.
These homeless people are Jesus’ friends. The Syrian
refugee children are Jesus’s friends too. People like them not only get to tag along when we invite Jesus into our lives, but they are also given
seats of honor at God’s table.
And you know what? WE are Jesus’s friends too. We have a
seat at the table, too. Because at some point in our lives we have been made to
feel like the “last one picked” by the rest of the world too.
As shame researcher Brene Brown has written, we all “hustle
for our worthiness” by putting on a stellar PR campaign about ourselves,
including only the good or “acceptable” parts, the parts that would get us good
seats in the High School cafeteria. But I think many of us long for a place
where we can be loved and accepted: flaws, rough edges, and all.
When Pastor and author Nadia Boltz Weber began a church
in Colorado, she writes about how she baffled at how many “socially broken”
people showed up to her church – sexual abuse survivors, paraplegics, and many others,
not exactly “people like her.” Then she realized she WAS attracting HER “kind
of people” – broken, self-conscious, and needy, because we are ALL broken in
some way. We are all broken, beautiful, and loved by God. Nadia realized Jesus
SEES all the parts of ourselves we try to hide from others, the parts we don’t
put on Facebook, and those parts are welcome.
As a high schooler, I always felt welcome at my church. My
church youth group only attracted youth like me, those who never had any plans
on a Friday night. But the adults never wondered where the “cool kids” were.
They were just happy I was there, and nurtured and cared about me.
I recently went to a women’s clergy conference in Boston.
There were a hundred and ten of us. I knew five before I got there. But every
time I sat at a table, I was sitting – not with strangers I just met and
wondering if they liked me or not – I was sitting with people who were already
friends, friends that I just haven’t met yet. Because we all knew that we were
there together to support each other as fellow women following God’s call.
Imagine that the Lord’s Table is the exact opposite of a
table in your high school cafeteria. The Lord’s Table is where, instead of
being “the last one picked,” you have been specifically invited by Jesus. A
table where, instead of wondering where it’s safe to sit, you find you have a
place next to Jesus… though you may be surprised who ELSE gets to sit next to
Jesus.
We don’t have to earn our place there, or try to hustle
and social climb our way in. The invitation is already ours - along with all of
Jesus’s ‘friends’ who get come along - the homeless along with suburbanites,
minorities along with the privileged, those who are gay and transgender next to
those who are straight, single moms and dad next to nuclear families, the
“losers” and “last picks” of the world next to “first picks” and “winners.” All
gathered together at the big beautiful party that God is hosting. Thanks be to
God. Amen.