Widening the Welcome: Luke 14:1, 7-14 - Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost

¹On 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; ⁹and 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. ¹⁰But 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. ¹¹For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”
  ¹²He 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. ¹³But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. ¹⁴And you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.” (NRSV)

Have you ever been somewhere you don’t belong? How do you know you don’t belong?

Elizabeth and I bought Becca tickets to a hard rock concert as a gift for her graduation—at the Key Bank Pavilion in Burgettstown. I knew I was in for an unforgettable experience when I came downstairs dressed in a blue T-shirt and gray shorts—and Becca said, “you’re going to stick out like a sore thumb.”

She was right—I look like someone who belongs at a Kenny G concert.

But guess what? They let me in—and not because I looked the part, but because I bought a ticket.

This is how it works in our society—you buy belonging. You can’t just choose a random house you like and sleep on the bed. It’s private property!

If belonging can’t be bought, it’s bestowed upon you by last name or birthright; because you’re male; because you’re white; you speak English; you have seniority; you wear the right clothes. I could go on forever.

So what happens when you don’t belong? You’ll feel anxious and out of place. People will ignore or mistreat you. They may remove you by force. You’ll be subject to political, economic, or social systems that keep you on the margins. They may even use violence against you.

Jesus and his disciples lived in a world where the boundary lines were even more rigid than they are today.

Banquets were the way the elites proclaimed and maintained their social status. If you want to honor someone and make it known that you belong to them and they belong to you, host a banquet, put that person in a place of honor, and invite all the “who’s who.” Just like on a modern commercial jet, your seat indicated your status. You’re still on the plane—but your seat shows how important you are.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus has been invited to a banquet at the home of a leader of the Pharisees, for a banquet on the Sabbath day. They all had their eyes on Jesus—but Jesus had his eyes on them.

They sat in places of honor largely out of habit— because they were invited to lots of banquets.

Pharisees were entitled to honor.

But Jesus says, don’t sit in the seats of honor, lest you be forced to surrender your seat to someone more honorable than you. When you give a banquet, invite people who don’t typically get invited to banquets, and can’t return you the favor.

As someone who regularly dines at Christ’s banqueting table: is he speaking these same words to me?

Do you come to the table out of a sense of entitlement? Do you take your belonging so much for granted that you treat Christ’s banquet as optional? Do you give any thought to the people Christ is longing to welcome to his table?

Historically, the Church has followed the banqueting habits of the Pharisees more than the banqueting habits of Jesus. It’s us, the good, faithful Christians—and it’s them, the sinful, unbelieving heathen. Most congregations want to have more people at the table so that they can meet the budget and keep the doors open. This isn’t hospitality. It’s exalting ourselves on the newcomers’ backs. There’s nothing Christian about that.

Fact is, you have no personal claim or entitlement to Christ’s banqueting table. Sinners don’t belong. But Jesus descended into hell and the grave to claim you, welcome you into God’s kingdom, and give you the place of honor at his banqueting table! You know who gets the seat of honor at Christ’s table? The forgiven sinner. The lost and found. The poor and helpless. What makes this banquet so spectacular is that it cost Jesus everything, yet he delights to give it to you, and declare you, “you belong to my family.”

This is my body, broken for you. This is my blood, shed for you.

We’ve adopted “Everyone Belongs” as our church slogan—but that alone will not bring people to the banqueting table. Before anyone will belong to this family of faith, you must belong to them.

To fully appreciate the significance of what Christ has given you, share with someone else the seat of honor Jesus has shown you.

When you come to the banqueting table, consider: who’s invited but isn’t here? Who are the people in my life who aren’t being invited to banquets? What persons receive no welcome, no acceptance, no belonging? Who might be living without unconditional love?

Perhaps someone who’s ill, aged, or homebound will come to mind. Or you’ll think of someone who’s suffering more than Job. You may think of someone who needs respite from a chaotic, busy life. You may even think of someone for whom life is pretty good—but you know Christ has a better life in store for them.

Picture these persons in your mind, and whisper the words “the body of Christ is given for you. The blood of Christ is shed for you. You belong at the banqueting table.”

This is the holy work Christ is calling us to today: to widen the welcome; to proclaim unconditional love and belonging to a world that thrives on exclusion. The more you welcome, the more welcome you’ll feel.

In the end, we all enter the Kingdom of God when Jesus says gives you a place of honor at his table, feeding you with bread and wine of value you can never repay. Welcoming in those who cannot repay, we are one with Christ in healing the world. You don’t belong because you deserve it or because you can repay. You belong because Christ says so—and there’s no better belonging than that.

“When a church serves individuals, families and whole communities with no expectation that they in turn will ensure the church’s ongoing survival, that church is, for perhaps the first time, repairing the world.”
-Eric Minton, Baptist News opinion writer