Sermon on Luke 14:1,7-14

Pastor Jennifer Garcia

You won’t see Jesus writing any articles for Better Homes and Gardens or the Magnolia Journal. He is far from the ideal houseguest.

In today’s story, he’s invited to a dinner party at the home of one of the leaders of the Pharisees. This was an important person, and it was an honor to be invited to share the sabbath meal.

It’s hard to tell whether people are excited that he’s there or if he’s just a curiosity, but all eyes are on him.

The part we didn’t read today is that there was a person there with edema, or a swelling, probably in one of his limbs.

Everyone watches Jesus, waiting to see what he’ll do. Will he heal this person on the sabbath, or will he send him away?

Jesus asks their unspoken question: “Is it lawful to cure people on the Sabbath or not?”

No one is brave enough to give an answer, and Jesus heals the man and sends him on his way.

Then, Jesus answers the question with another question, which is a very Jesus-y thing to do: “If one of you has a child or an ox that has fallen into a well, will you not immediately pull it out on a Sabbath day?”

And again, no one answers.

Jesus doesn’t exactly bring sparkling conversation to this dinner party.

Then, after he’s been the subject of so many stares, Jesus notices the other guests in return.

He notices that they’re very concerned with where they sit, which indicates their importance and social standing.

And instead of minding his own business like a polite dinner guest, Jesus calls them out on it.

Then, he even starts giving advice to his host! Jesus basically tells him that this isn’t the sort of gathering he should be having.

And right after what we read today, one of the other guests pipes up, perhaps trying to save the host from embarrassment, saying, “Blessed is anyone who will eat bread in the kingdom of God!”

Instead of being shamed into an awkward change of subject, Jesus tells a parable about someone who threw a lavish banquet, but the rich and powerful guests all made excuses not to come, so instead, people who are impoverished, disabled, and unhoused are ushered into the feast.

Jesus just isn’t getting the message that this isn’t how guests are supposed to behave.

But that’s because Jesus is more concerned with the upside-down Reign of God than with being polite.

Instead of being worried about:

1.    Status

2.    Power

3.    Recognition

4.    Fitting in

5.    Or being polite,

Jesus wants the guests and the host to get a clearer picture of what the Reign of God will look like. It will not look like that sabbath dinner, with homogeneous guests vying for the best seats.

Instead, it will look like an upside-down version of the social hierarchy. The most powerful will be at the humblest seats, if they choose to attend at all, and the least, the last, and the lost will be seated in places of honor. Those who are ignored by society will be seen and respected.

How easy is it to look around you and make assumptions about who “belongs” and who doesn’t?

Categorizing is in our nature—our ancestors needed to figure out quickly what was a threat and what wasn’t: fruit tree-good, lion-bad.

But our brains still think like this, even though most of us aren’t in danger of getting eaten on a daily basis. Our brains decide in seconds whether another person is a threat or a friend, but our brains haven’t caught up to the fact that different doesn’t equal bad or dangerous.

This, plus centuries of prejudice and stereotyping, leads us to make unfair judgments about our neighbors before getting to know anything about them.

And so, we give side-eyes to folks around us, just like the guests at the home of that leader of the Pharisees. And we want to fit in and get the best seat we can, just like they did. It’s so easy to be ruled by our unexamined instincts instead of seeing our neighbor as God does.

I’ve been telling the book study group for the past month or so that it’s really hard for me not to use Father Gregory Boyle’s work in every one of my sermons. So, please indulge me for using a story from the latest book we read: Barking to the Choir.

You might remember that Father Boyle is the founder of Homeboy Industries in LA, the largest gang intervention program in the world. He shares this story:

“A homie, speaking to a city council meeting, addresses them as if they were stand-ins for all of society. ‘You gave up on me even before you knew me,’ he says. So we are encouraged to stand with the tax collector and the prostitute, the widow, orphan, and stranger, precisely because they are the judged, the scapegoated, the less-than, whose chances are taken away well before they are given. The principal cause of suffering for the leper is not an annoying, smelly, itchy skin disease but rather having to live outside the camp. So the call is to stand with them, so that the margins get erased and they are welcomed back inside. Jesus didn’t think twice: he touches the lepers before he gets around to healing them.”[1]

It's easy sometimes to give up on people before getting to know them. Perhaps the other dinner guests from our reading today had given up on the person with edema from the moment they saw him: he was an inconvenience, perhaps his very existence made them feel embarrassed especially on a Sabbath day. They seem to have used him as a prop to see what Jesus would do. They don’t seem to value his humanity.

But Jesus indicates that instead of being sent away, the man will be seated at the head of the table in the Reign of God. As Father Boyle put it, Jesus “touches the lepers before he gets around to healing them.” He builds connection before worrying about what he can do for people. He restores people’s humanity simply by recognizing them as people. That is the greatest healing Jesus provides. Jesus might be a terrible dinner guest etiquette-wise, but that’s because he’s preparing for a different kind of party: where the least are the greatest.

Even the healthcare workers among us can’t heal people in an instant the way Jesus did. But, any one of us can restore people’s humanity by noticing them, forming a connection, recognizing them as the image of God.

So, whenever you see anyone, especially folks who are ignored or hurting, take a moment. Smile, ask them how they are. If you can do more, great. If not, you have already shown that you have not given up on them. And that human connection is a glimpse of the upside-down Reign of God.

[1] Barking to the Choir p. 166