Look who's come to dinner! 

            Over the years, I’ve had the pleasure of attending plenty of wedding rehearsal dinners.  Some of them have been downright fancy and elegant, elaborate affairs with white starched tablecloths, napkins and silverware that are supposed to do things I never imagined.  Others have been far more casual, a backyard barbecue dinner or at simple meal at the local Mexican restaurant where I was the only person wearing a tie.  I am still waiting the opportunity find myself like my friend Judi presiding over a pizza feast in a biker bar, but I guess I can always hope, can’t I? 

            One lesson I have learned though is that it’s probably a good idea to find out where you’re supposed to sit.  Most times, there’s no formal arrangement so it’s basically a free for all.  In that case, I find a spot at a table off to the side somewhere which is perfectly fine with me.  I get to meet some interesting folks that way.  Other times, I discover my name on a card and I know that’s where I’m supposed to sit.  That fine with me too, although sometimes, I get the feeling I’ve been placed near those that host somehow feels would benefit from some remedial time with the preacher.

            Knowing where to sit is important.  Of all people Jesus knows this to be true.  Once when he was in the house of the leader of the Pharisees, Jesus noticed how the guests were choosing their seats and decided to give everyone a lesson in table etiquette.  To the guests, he says, “Don’t sit down at the place of honor in case someone more important shows up and you get bumped to the table by the service entrance, but instead go at it the other way, start by the service entrance and see if you can’t work your way up.  For those who exalt themselves will be humbled and those who humble themselves will be exalted.  In other words, “don’t think of yourself as more important than you really are, because sooner or later self impressed, self-righteous, self-promoters get their comeuppance.”  To our ears, Jesus’ words sound like something right out of Emily Post or Miss Manners—good advice on how to live right!             

But Jesus is out to do more than simply hand out helpful hints for happy living.  Rather, he means to confront the notion that life in the kingdom of God is somehow an upwardly mobile proposition.  “All who exalt themselves will be humbled and all who humble themselves will be exalted.”  Time and time again, we see Jesus confronting human pretense and pride with a word of judgment.  Those who think they’ve got things all worked out, who have all the answers, who are by all indications on the fast track to the good life in this world and the next suddenly find themselves on the short end of the stick, on the outside without even an invitation to the banquet.  On the other hand, the outsiders, the forsaken ones, the marginalized, those who have no hope of finding a way into the social, economic and religious systems suddenly find themselves at the head banquet table enjoying a meal unlike anything they could have possibly imagined.    

And things really aren’t all that different in a world, a culture where the gospel of “upward mobility” is warmly embraced, where our value, our worth is determined by how much money we make, by the number of bed and bathrooms we have in our homes, by the kind of cars we drive.  So, we convince ourselves that there is a line, an invisible point somewhere out there in the future where we’ll finally have enough, when we’ll have it made, when we won’t have to worry anymore.  But the trouble is we always seem to be chasing after a moving target. 

The same tendency is at work when it comes to how we approach matters of faith too.  We like to think of the Christian life as a progressive journey along a continuum of sorts, from out and out reprobate to super Christian.  So, if we pray hard enough, if we’re good enough, if we can attain to a higher level of moral, ethical and spiritual perfection then when the roll is called up yonder we’ll have secured our place at the table of honor. 

But who are we really fooling?  Despite what the purveyors of religion might have us believe, the idea of perfection is a chimera, a mirage, an illusion that remains beyond our grasp.  We become like caged rodents running faster and faster on a wheel going nowhere, or as someone once said a “grand spectacle of fools fooling themselves and other fools.” 

The good news for fools like us is that our status before God is not determined by anything we do, but by what God has done for us, fashioning and forming us from the clay, breathing life into us and through the cross going all the way to death to redeem us and make us His forever.  Being invited to the banquet has nothing to do with what we’ve made of ourselves.  If it did, then every last one of us would be in serious trouble.  Even today, we’re being invited to come, just as we are, to the table that Christ prepares for us, a foretaste of that great feast to come.      

And, it’s not accident then that Jesus moves from talking about guest etiquette to host etiquette because Christ’s invitation to the table is also an invitation to join God in the banquet inviting business here and now.  Unfortunately the translation doesn’t do the text justice, because what Jesus really says is “when you do a banquet”, a welcoming, a reception, this is who to invite.  Our calling as God’s people doesn’t get much clearer than that, that as God has received us in baptism, so are we to receive, to welcome others—not the rich and well to do, not those who will help keep us in the black, or make us a success in the eyes of the world, but rather the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind, in short the marginalized, those of no account, those who can’t begin to impact the bottom line. 

Okay, so it’s nice to talk about caring for the poor and helping the “less fortunate”, but at the end of the day is Jesus’ agenda really going to keep the church going?  Before he started his ministry, Jesus would have done well to get his MBA.  I mean, who pray tell is going to foot the bill for this big soiree once the bills start coming in?  More to the point, how are we going to keep the lights on and pay the pastor for goodness sakes?  We’re already facing a crisis so, if we carry Jesus’ prescription out to its logical conclusion, there’s no question that we’ll end up losing everything we hold near and dear—buildings, budgets and boards!  Then what?  Hey Jesus, give us a strategy to boost numbers and increase revenue and then once we get things turned around, we’ll start worrying about all this charity stuff!

“Those who exalt themselves will be humbled and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”  We’re confronted with two very different questions today, my friends.  On the one hand, what do we want? And on the other, what does God want?  We want security from those who would do us harm.  We want to be comfortable, to feel good.  We don’t want to be challenged or to have our priorities and assumptions about life, about the church, about God called into question.  We want to hold on to what is most near and dear to us.  Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, right?  But is what we want what God wants?  It seems to me that’s the question before us today, not only as individuals, but as the Church, and yes even as a congregation.  The gospel never has been or will be a “rose garden promise” but a call to die that we may at last find our lives, to take up the cross and follow Jesus wherever the road may lead.

The question of what God wants is always an important one for us to consider, but even more so for us at Ascension Lutheran Church.  The challenges we face are many.  There is an air of uncertainty, grief and even fear about the future.  What’s going to happen?  Are we going to survive?  Can we afford to pay the pastor?  I suppose such questions have their place, but if we fail to consider what God wants, we miss the boat entirely and more than likely end up despairing, without hope.  But what Jesus declares, what he shows us on the cross is that it is in offering up our lives that we truly discover them, in dying that we find our lives forever with him.  As much as I wish I did, I don’t have clear cut answers, but as God led us, I trust that God will continue to do so, showing us the way and never, ever letting us go, always providing a place for us at the table.

Look who's come to dinner!  Not the powerful and mighty, but the weak and the lowly ones, the poor and hungry ones.  And by the grace of the host Jesus, there’s a place card for you and for me.  Let the celebration and feasting begin, with songs of thanksgiving for the kingdom of God is near.  Thanks be to God.  Amen.                             

Pastor Brian Peterson