Twelth Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 14:1,7-14

How many of us have been to a big party, like a wedding, and hesitated at the entrance to the banquet hall because we don’t know where to sit?  If there aren’t place cards or assigned tables, we have to choose a chair.  Those of us who are introverts hate going up to a stranger and asking,  “Is this seat taken?”  What if they say “yes”?  There’s that awkward moment of rejection.

In the first century those who could afford to have parties for their friends knew that there was a strict ranking.  The most important guests sat nearest the host.  Presumably they got the most and best food as the dishes were passed, like today if we get to be first in line at a potluck.  Those farthest from the host were served last.  We’ve heard that in the Middle Ages this was called “sitting above (or below) the salt” with the salt cellar placed in the middle of the table.  On feast days the peasants and servants might be invited to the meal, but they sat “below the salt” and their food was inferior to those sitting higher.

I suspect Jesus isn’t terribly interested in the seating etiquette of his time but is using this story as an example of how we understand generosity and benevolence in our lives.  Often he tells his followers that they are to put themselves last and others first.  Practicing humility reminds us that life isn’t really about just us but about community.  It matters whether we prioritize our own self interest and importance or if we see others as equals and prioritize the benefit of all.  In this moment we’ve seen this difference show up in the debate about forgiving student loans.  I read an amazing satire about how if I had to struggle and sacrifice all future people should struggle and sacrifice.  It’s not “fair” to pay off the loans of some if others have already repaid their debt. Personally, when I graduated from college I owed a whopping $2700.  My grandmother helped me pay it off at $100/month.  Today students are going to spend more than that on spring break and taking the family out to dinner costs more than $100.  It’s not going to hurt me much if someone else’s debt is cancelled.  I’m no expert on the economics of this forgiveness program and it may or may not be a good idea.  But the fact that some people don’t qualify and others have paid off their debt and won’t benefit from the new program shouldn’t be a deciding factor.

We see this mindset in many places.  Why build a new school for today’s children when the old one was good enough for me 50 years ago?  Why subsidize new low income housing when my house is already paid for?  Why provide assistance to people who are hungry when I can pay for my own groceries?  If I don’t need it, no one should get it.  If people don’t work as hard or have as many advantages as I do, then that’s their problem, not mine.  I’m going to take the seat of honor because I deserve it.  I suspect if Jesus had advocated for this attitude, he would have had a very different set of disciples.  Every time his disciples wanted to send someone away or exclude a person they didn’t see as qualified, they were chastised.  Women, children, beggars, leppers, tax collectors, prostitutes and all sorts of unsavory folks got to sit at Jesus’ table.  Jesus lived on a level playing field and each person mattered just as much as any other.  If we’re going to be his contemporary followers, we have to check our mindset for humility often.

The second part of this reading is about reciprocity and gratitude.  We may all have been in a situation where we invite people to dinner and never get an invitation back.  I’ve gone so far as to say, “I’m not inviting them again until they invite me.”  We don’t always know why relationships like this become uneven.  Maybe the others are embarrassed because they don’t cook well, or their house is in disarray, or their schedule is crazy and they can’t manage the extra stress of inviting guests.  Jesus is telling us that we don’t do kind things in order to get something back from others.  We do them because they are the right thing to do and we are the right person to do them.  Sometimes people tell me they aren’t going to cook for LaGrave any more because they never get a thank you note.  I understand that it’s nice to be acknowledged.  I’m not going to quit cooking because it’s way too much fun.  There’s a “thing” out there called reciprocal altruism, which means doing the right thing because it will benefit you.  That’s okay, but how much better to do the right thing because it will benefit someone else.  Or simply because it’s the right thing to do.

There are lots of good deeds that are the right thing to do.  We hear about them every Sunday in the Light Signs.  Cooking for LaGrave.  Growing a garden to donate the produce.  Sending puzzles and movies to the Juvenile Detention Center.  Filling food boxes.  You make your own list.  A man down the block from me mows my neighbor’s front yard every week.  Any given week I’ll bet a couple of hundred folks in town take a friend to the grocery store.  There’s lots of tomatoes and zucchini being shared right now.  My daughter’s neighbor blows her snow when her husband’s deployed.  It’s campaign season and every night we get an update about who’s raising the most money.  Some of that money may be yours.  For the most part none of these things get done because we expect something in return.  The reward is in the good feeling of knowing we’ve brightened someone’s day and made the world a better place.  Those who are keeping score need an attitude adjustment.

How do you know if you’re the right person to do any particular act of kindness?  Check and see if it makes you happy.  Of all the things we do, none of them appeals to all of us.  Each activity draws the group that wants to do it.  I hope you hear often that you can choose to participate in those things that interest you.  If it brings you joy – it’s yours.  If it doesn’t – skip it.  Of the billion or so jobs that need doing we’re going to have to pick a few.  Nothing on our list is essential.  If no one is interested, we can leave it for someone else.  But leave it because it doesn’t fit your skill set, not because you don’t get enough recognition for doing it.  

Jesus invited us to help him build a better world.  He called that world “the kingdom of God.”  By that he meant a community in which everyone counted and all people had what they needed to live.  It’s a way of life in which we all look out for each other.  We do what we can.  When we can’t do for ourselves, someone helps.  We take turns.  We share.  Years ago we read that all those good qualities were a little like what you learn in kindergarten.  Hold hands.  Pay attention. Go together.  Maybe we’re all going to grow up together when we return to those basic, early learnings and remember how to form groups of compassion.

In the meantime doing any small part for the benefit of the whole is an end in itself.  We do it because it matters.  The reward is in the good feeling that comes from being truly helpful.  There may not be immediate payback.  In the long run we are all better for it because we actually are building the kingdom of God among us.