Sit Down
Luke 14:1, 7-14
As many of you know by now, my son Morgan turned me on to a social media platform by the name of Reddit. Everyone on Reddit makes up a user name so everyone is anonymous. There are categories of different subjects called communities. For example, there’s a community called awww, which is photos of cute animals like puppies and kittens. There’s one that’s pictures of really nice cars, or famous oil paintings, or model trains. There’s one of short videos of children falling over like on America’s funniest videos. There’s one of beautiful nature shots, or one for atheists, etc. There are topics for everyone. So on your feed, you scroll down and look at what people who are part of that community have posted or you can post things yourself.
One of my favorites is for people who like to collect treasures at thrift stores, which is great because this is what Eric and I like to do on our time off. We are a pretty exciting couple.
For months I had only observed and upvoted, which is like a “like” on facebook, other things people had posted, but I had never actually posted anything. I also commented on what people posted. There are rules you sign up for on Reddit about being respectful which I also like. And if you break those rules, your post will be deleted.
But when Diego turned 14, I thought, I this seems like a good enough occasion as any to try my first post.
So I posted this picture, with the caption n that says………This guy….14 today and just keeps getting better. By the end of the day, I had just over 100 upvotes. And two people can comment that they too had old dogs and how great they were. I felt pretty good about that.
So s week later I decided to share this post-It’s a picture of some plates I’ve collected over the years at thrift stores. And the caption says….Slowly collecting plates from different eras and letting guests choose their place at the table based on the pate that speaks to them. Each plate under $5.
After one hour I had already gotten 100 upvotes. After 2 hours it was up around 500. I couldn’t believe it and kept texting Morgan updates who accused me of now being addicted to Reddit. In one day 6.5 k people upvoted it and I had 100 comments to sift through. Morgan, he couldn’t believe it. He said he knew no one, not one of his friends had come close to that many upvotes. I reminded him it was because his mother was clearly cooler than all of his friends. Finally, to end this ridiculous waste of time, I texted Morgan, “Who knew? Plates!”
But it wasn’t the plates people were reacting to. It was this idea that people got to choose their place at the table based on which plate spoke to them. Why is that? Gone is the head of the table. Gone is the proximity to the host. Gone is even the idea of the best plate because what speaks to one person will not be the same as what speaks to another. Some will choose the fancy gold-trimmed plate, others will choose the plain unadorned plate, another will take the one that they remember their grandmother had, despite the chip and worn edges.
I shared this story at the chaplaincy dinner, and I drew a metaphor around the plates themselves being just like all of us, reminding people that some of us are like a fancy plate with gold trim, but others of us are old and worn in, with chips and cracks, others are classic and still others are plain, but everyone from the moment they’re born into this world, has a place at the metaphorical table.
Jesus in this mornings scripture has just witnessed people competing for the highest seat the literal table, closest to the host, and sets everyone straight instructing them they should humble themselves…..and in doing so may be invited to move up higher…..Jesus is speaking about the table they’re sitting at but he tells a parable, which, like all parables opens up our interpretation so that the table is no longer just a piece of wood with legs. The table takes on a life of its own as a place that puts us in relationship to him, to God, as our host, as the one who invites and welcomes, who shows us what radical hospitality looks like around the table and around the world.
But it also places us in the role of host. because as followers of Christ, the ultimate host, we should not only be inviting people into our lives who make us look good, or gain us status. According to Jesus, we should be inviting the crippled and the lame, the ones who could never repay.
Theologians love to call hospitality radical hospitality because it’s taken to a level that breaks the cultural norm. It moves beyond who you invite over to your house and becomes about how you interact with all people in the world. Radical hospitality is a hospitality of the heart. It’s to welcome in the stranger the same way Christ did. It’s to follow the example of Jesus who ate with those no one wanted to eat with, Samaritans, Canaanites, religious folk who didn’t believe in the Jewish God Jesus was following, people who criticized him for it, people who treated Jews with contempt, people who were from other lands, who had accents, who were considered unclean. NO one wanted to share their dinner table with them.
The hospitality of the heart lives here at the church, or at the rest meals, or the chaplaincy meals, but it’s much harder in our homes, on the street, in the store. We get fearful, unsure, insecure when we come across the stranger, the other. As a people baptized into Christ, we’re required to be in relationship with all people, to move beyond our fears and to follow his example. Like it or not, we’re called upon to assume that others are doing their best and to approach others with an open heart.
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This scripture, like last weeks scripture, begins with the sabbath. A sabbath/Shabbat meal is a holy time separated from the rest of the week, in order to delight in God the way God delighted in creation when God created the Sabbath day. God’s resting was not a taking a break from something….it was God resting in it, not from it. God doesn’t need a break from creating, God is always creating and Sabbath is part of that creation. Sabbath time connects us to everything that the business of the week disconnects us from; joy and peace, delight and contentment, the wholeness of creation the holiness of creation and the ability to rest in it.
God’s creation is the first act of hospitality. To be fully immersed in the sabbath is to open ourselves up to the grace of God who created this life for the purpose of being in relationship with all of God’s creation. The literal table becomes the metaphorical table of life. And with Jesus at the table, we humble ourselves so our hearts become a place of invitation over judgment, of gratitude over complaint.
When was the last time you were humbled? Recently I received a big dose when I was invited here to our sanctuary to preach for MDS. It was an overwhelming experience that moved me to write about it. So I wrote a letter to God the morning after my experience.
Dear God,
Thank you for the gift of last night. If I was ever on my knees in humility, it was after this experience. Perhaps not literally but certainly in every other way. My ego fell so very far away I no longer recognized myself. I don’t know what other word to use but humbled. I am humbled…Experiencing a community of your people worship with all their heart, their soul, was humbling. The singing, the dancing, the music… even though I couldn’t understand the language, I understood the sentiment.
I was the foreigner in a strange land. Their land held the utmost beauty of song and children, and families, and men and women expressing sorrow out loud with no shame, using their voices in ways I would only use in secret. To hear them is the way I imagine the psalmists expressed their prayer and praise when they wrote and sang the psalms. And joy too, with full voice and body and dance and clapping and smiles, and a woman with a box of tissues, looking out for people who were moved to tears by the spirit in the room….and the heat…the sweat dripped down and the sun poured in…Where did the curtains go to keep the sun from pouring out into the sanctuary? They took them down because of my big mouth the Sunday before commenting on how ugly they were and Jose overhearing. How sorry I am. How gracious people they are. I promise to do all I can to get them shades.
When they welcomed me, they introduced me like I was a somebody important, praying over me, laying hands on me, giving me a glass of water, Fiji water with a wine glass no less. They thanked me with a card with $300 (more than we pay at St. Luke)
I was in awe before I stood up to speak. What could I possibly offer them after they had given me so much unjust an hour? In one house they had already taught me more than anything I could say. I was the guest, I was the stranger, I was the foreigner, I was receiving radical hospitality like I had never received before in any place of worship.
On my way home in the car, I was moved to tears. Tears I couldn’t put words to. Maybe I cried wishing more people in the world could be this generous in spirit. Maybe I cried that I am not as generous in spirit. On my walk the morning after, my heart still searching for words, I went looking for the same kindness and genuine authentic beauty I witnessed in the sanctuary last night…and instead people averted their eyes, look mad, look sad, maybe one or two say good morning just to be polite, but no real connection.
I give you thanks God for the experience. I give you thanks for the humility. I give you thanks for reminding me of how much work I have to do in this world to worship you the way you created us to worship. I give you thanks for the ability to share this sanctuary with them and ask your blessing upon us both that we learn from sharing the same space not only at the church but in a world that needs more love, more openness, more expression, more singing, more dancing, more family, and yes, more humility. May we all be blessed with moments if being the stranger, being welcomed, being humbled.
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Jesus Christ calls on us to enter into places of humility here, deep within the recesses of our hearts that we protect with vibrato and resume’s and walls, and opinions and accomplishments. Trade them in for true humility where you become the stranger in a strange land, even if it’s on the street or at the market. Assume the best of others, place them at the head of the table, welcome them into your hearts. Create a table that reflects Christ’s table, in communion with all God’s children who are all given a place at the table from the moment they are born into this God-given world. Rest in that. Delight in that. And find your place at the table and sit down.
Amen