Pastor Karen Karpow
August 29, 2010
Luke 14.1, 7-14
Enough About Me
V V V
Pray also for me, so that when I speak, a message
may be given to me to make known with boldness the mystery of the gospel. Ephesians 6.19
V V V
Woodrow Wilson was quite a distinguished man. He served both as President of Princeton University and as Governor of New Jersey. Then, in 1912, he ran as the Democratic candidate for President of the United States.
That was a good year to be a Democrat, because the
Republicans were hopelessly divided.
Teddy Roosevelt, who had earlier served two terms as President, decided
to run again. He challenged
President Taft for the Republican nomination, but lost the primary—so he formed
the Bull Moose Party and ran as a third-party candidate. In the general election, the divided
Republican vote gave the victory to the Democratic candidate, Woodrow Wilson.
Sometime after the election, Wilson was visiting with
his elderly aunt, who was almost deaf and very much out-of-touch. She asked where he was working. He shouted into her ear trumpet,
"I'm the President." She
asked, "Of what?" He
shouted, "Of the U.S.A."
She snorted, "Don't be silly."
Maybe it would be a good thing if we all had a deaf
aunt. It would help to keep us
humble.
Today’s scripture lesson centers on the word
“humble.” Jesus said (Luke 14.11):
"For all who exalt themselves will
be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted."
We will see that in today’s scripture, humility—being
humble—is the key both to receiving a blessing, and to being a blessing. But what does it mean to be
humble? It seems to me that we
often confuse humility with timidity or self-denigration.
Humility has nothing to do with deprecating our
own sacred worth, gifts, talents, and accomplishments. The call to humility does not mean we
have to give more, when we’ve already given too much—or conversely, that we’re
not worthy to give what we have. I
have seen people get stuck in a spiral of “I’m no good, I can’t do anything
right”—and that is not humility.
To disregard the good gifts that God has blessed us with is not
humility.
As
with so many topics, C.S. Lewis put it well: “Humility is not thinking less of yourself, it’s thinking of
yourself less.”
Today’s scripture reading is like two acts in a little
play. Jesus is at a sabbath dinner
in the home of a Pharisee—which is interesting, and we’ll get back to
that. In the first act, Jesus
observes how his fellow diners rush for the best seats, and offers them a
parable straight out of the book of Proverbs (25.6-7). He advises them to hold back from
taking the best seats at a wedding banquet, even if they think they are Very
Important People—or if they wish to be seen as to be Very Important People. If they are not as important as they
thought, it will be very embarrassing.
We might be tempted to think that Jesus was out of
touch, or that the advice he gave his listeners in the first century no longer
applies in the twenty-first century.
Isn’t assertiveness the way to get what you want? Go for it! We might even
misinterpret Jesus' words as a backdoor strategy for self-promotion instead of
a call to humble service. It would
be pretty crazy if, instead of a rush for the best seat, there was a
competition for the lowest seat, so that the winner could show off when called
by the host!
Is
Jesus giving advice on manners or how to get ahead in society? No,
he is making a point about where our focus should be. The point is to be
looking after the others, not jockeying for our own position. The best
seats, closest to the host, go to the most important people—and the host
gets to decide who is important. It may be that the people who are most important to
the host don’t look like much to others. For all we know, the bride’s best friend could be the quiet,
homely girl standing alone in the back.
But if we spend our energy making
sure everyone gets a good seat, we may rest assured that there’s a seat for us,
too.
11 For all who exalt themselves
will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”
This is the rule for life in the kingdom of God—a
reversal that turns our familiar world upside down to reveal a world with very
different rules. God is the host at that table, and God gets to decide who gets
the best seats—and it’s not who we would expect. This is a major theme of the gospel of Luke, beginning in
the very first chapter, when Mary sings,
51 [God] has shown strength with
his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their
hearts.
52 He has brought down the
powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
53 he has filled the hungry with
good things,
and sent the rich away empty.
Just as we would prepare for
life in a foreign land by learning the language and customs, so we also need to
prepare for the kingdom of God by learning and following kingdom rules
now. Indeed, the kingdom of God
becomes a present reality and not just a future hope when we acknowledge God as
our king and live by God’s rules.
Christians live with one foot in the kingdom of this world and the other
foot in the kingdom of God. We get
to be with God forever, and we can start now! At first it might feel a little weird, but life in the
kingdom of God is, indeed, a blessing.
The second act of this little
play is also about blessing—not getting a blessing, but being a blessing. Being
a blessing isn’t easy—don’t we prefer being blessed?
It’s easier to scurry around to times and places where we expect to be
blessed—or to display the stuff we’ve accumulated that we think represents the
blessings we’ve already got. But
God offers us an invitation to receive genuine blessing by being a blessing to
others, through our everyday acts and relationships.
Looking around at the assembled
guests, Jesus turns his attention to his host. Like most people, the
host is inclined to invite those who can return the favor—those who have
something to offer. Jesus warns
the host (and us) not to invite the people that he would enjoy the most
(friends, brothers and sisters, relatives, or rich neighbors), and tells him to
invite instead the people that he would enjoy the least (the poor, the
crippled, the lame, and the blind).
It has been said that the sign of a gentleman is how
he treats those who can be of absolutely no use to him. The same can be said of a Christian—and
of Jesus Christ. Jesus gave
everything, even his life, for those who could never repay him. Jesus calls us to trust God to repay
what those in need cannot, and promises that God will repay us later—in our
eternal life.
But
I have noticed that the repayment—or at least a down-payment on it—comes
earlier than that. As my dear
husband loves to say, “You can’t out-give God.” When we put ourselves aside, practicing the humility that
C.S. Lewis describes—not thinking less of yourself, it’s thinking of yourself
less—I find that we draw nearer to Jesus.
And
that’s where the blessings are found.
Suddenly we find that we have what we need—and anything we don’t have
turns out to be something we don’t need.
Being close to Jesus puts everything in perspective.
Let’s
go back now to the fact that a Pharisee would invite Jesus to dinner. They are not likely friends—Jesus often
speaks harshly to and about Pharisees, accusing them of hypocrisy and
worse. So why would the Pharisee
invite Jesus? Jesus has a growing
reputation as a prophet, and that might be the reason. Also, Luke tells us that "they
were watching him closely," so they probably hope that Jesus will make a
mistake that they can exploit.
Perhaps that is enough to explain it.
We
might also ask why Jesus would accept such an invitation—from someone who very
possibly means him harm. Jesus ate
with the powerless and poor—but that didn’t mean he had to exclude the rich and
powerful. His spirit is inclusive
in every way. While the pride of
the elite might block them from receiving God's grace, that grace is nevertheless
available to them. It is not Jesus
who withdraws from the sinner, but the sinner who withdraws from Jesus. Our own pride might block us from
receiving God’s grace—but it is always available. And the antidote to pride is humility.
Perhaps you
have been stuck at a party with one of those people who talk endlessly about
their own fascinating selves, never stopping to inquire about you—so that it
seems your only value is as an audience for their show. Sometimes the best we can hope for is
to hear, “Enough about me—what do YOU think about me?”
Humilty says,
“Enough about me.” It is not about
thinking less of ourselves, but thinking of ourselves less. When we turn our focus beyond
ourselves—up toward God, and out to others—then we can open ourselves up to
God’s grace.
Let our prayer
this week be, “Enough about me.”
Amen.
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. … 7When
he noticed how the guests chose the places of honor, he told them a parable. 8
“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; 9 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. 10 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. 11
For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble
themselves will be exalted.”
12 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. 13 But
when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the
blind. 14 And you will be blessed, because they
cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”