Proper 17 – Year C Christ Church

Luke 14:1, 7-14 1998 & 2007

"When you are invited [to a wedding feast] take the lowest place."

-From Luke 14:10

In last week's Gospel reading, Jesus spoke of a time of judgment which lies ahead for human beings, and proclaimed that only passage through the "narrow door" can guarantee the faithful a place in the Kingdom of Heaven. Such a proclamation cannot but raise questions in the minds of its hearers. And if we take this notion seriously – that we are eternal beings who will have a life beyond this life – then there is some urgency to the kinds of questions begged by last week's Gospel. Questions along these lines: Am I in? Does God really love me? Do I belong?

I think most people - even people of terrific faith - worry about their salvation sometimes. The worries come from our inability to comprehend the nature of God's love for us. We figure - because so much is at stake for us when we're talking about our eternal souls - that something extraordinary must be required of us to merit God's favor ... to earn our place in Heaven. We think:

- God couldn't love me, because I am so imperfect...

- God couldn't love me because I have trouble believing everything the church teaches...

- God couldn't love me ... because I know the truth: I am unlovable.

I am cautious about embracing a set "formula" that "guarantees" eternal salvation for human beings. Partly that caution stems from my belief that anything we are required to do to attain God's love, flies in the face of the gracious nature of God's being.

We don't get to heaven by going to church. We don't end up in paradise because we join the Peace Corps. Even requiring human beings to make a certain confession – "I accept Jesus as my Lord and Savior" - can become a "work" by which we somehow attain salvation through our own efforts. That's bad theology. We can't "work" our way into God's grace. That work belongs to Jesus.

But it's not just worrying about "correct" theology that keeps me from embracing a "formula" for salvation. It's even more a lack of faith, on my part. I can hardly believe the truth about the outrageous nature of God's love…

That just claiming Jesus as savior is enough to guarantee adoption into God's beloved family ... that simply being baptized in the name of the trinity, is enough to guarantee full participation in the death and resurrection of our Lord. That just accepting "the gift of God for the People of God" is enough.

It just seems too simple.

But my friends ... it is just that simple.

Can you believe that God created you, and loves you beyond measure? Can you admit to your imperfections - your sinfulness - and a desire to do better? Can you confess that in the life of Jesus of Nazareth, God worked a miracle on your behalf … and that Jesus gave his life for you? Do you hope to live a life in accord with the will of this loving God?

If you can answer "yes," then we're done. It is that straightforward. It is that simple.

Today's Gospel reading is a follow-up to last week's teaching about the narrow door. "When you are invited to the table," says Jesus, "go and sit at the lowest place."

As I think about my life, I have to confess that a big part of what drives my daily actions - is a desire to BELONG. I want to be "in." I want to be part of something bigger than me. I don't know if it is precisely a desire to be part of a community, or a culture, or a tribe ...

I just know that I want to be wanted. I want to belong.

And because I so desperately want to be wanted, accepted and loved, I work hard at it. I jostle for a good spot at the table.

So many of the little decisions I make in life: the clothes I wear every day, the car I drive, the hopes I have for my kids, the people I hang out with, the books I read, the organizations I belong to, the goofy little phone I carry around…my participation in all of these things is driven in large part by wanting to belong.

About a month ago I went clothes shopping with one of my kids and after much deliberation – and in consultation with my offspring - I bought this here T-shirt. For those of you who cannot see it, it's got a skull on it with big wings coming out of the skulls head. It fits me kind of tightly – it shows off my muscles!

Now my kids loves this shirt…and I have to admit that partly because my kids love this shirt so much I love this short too. I fid I am wearing it around the village pretty often!

But if I take a step back and think on it for a minute I've got to ask myself, why? Why would a basically conservative, forty-four year old, Episcopal priest – who is frankly probably a lot closer to becoming a grandfather than a first-time dad - buy this particular garment? Is this really me? Or was something else afoot at Style Council that afternoon with Sam?

What I won't do to be accepted...appreciated...and admired. What I won't do to try and get myself a place at the table.

This morning Jesus says to us, "When you are invited [to a wedding feast] take the lowest place."

Though it may sound like it, today's Gospel reading is not another command about how to behave. It is not another stipulation about how to please God. It is not another law. When Christ urges us to take the lowest place at the table, he is rather suggesting that we participate in an act of freedom. He is telling us about a new and exciting possibility in our lives...

- For if it is true that God created us, and loves us beyond measure. . .

- If it is true that Jesus is Lord of our lives - and we know his life was given for us. . .

- If we honestly dwell in the hope of living life according to his will . . .

Then we can relax. We don't have to jostle for a good place at the table anymore. We don't have to participate in the zany, tiring and unending quest to connect and belong... and be loved.

Jesus invites us to take any old seat. Heck, take the lowest seat, he says! Just plunk your tired old bones down wherever you happen to be, and pull up a chair! Quit your worrying about being friends with the "right" kind of people and enjoy fellowship with the neighbors God has given you. Quit worrying about what kind of car you drive, what kind of clothes you wear, what kind of house you live in, and remember that the only one whose judgment counts has already pronounced that you are in. Quit fighting to earn the respect and admiration of others by trying to conform to their expectations and their values. Rather, be content to be yourself. Know that you are beloved.

Boy – if we could wrap our brains around these truths, and let this knowledge guide our actions and decisions each day, life would be a lot simpler, wouldn't it? Our lives would be a lot easier if we really knew, deep down in our bones, that it is OK to relax…that all is well…that we don’t have to fight for our place at the table…that we can just be. Be secure in the promise of being included in God's love. Be certain of our place in the family of Christ. Be assured of our seat at the table, and of our own place in the Kingdom of heaven!

Amen.

J.S. Barker +