(Luke 14:1-11, Ephesians 4:1-6)
My wife and I don’t get to fly very
often, and when we do we book as far ahead as possible - in the hope of getting
decent seats. Of course economy class is much of a muchness wherever you sit.
But on a long, cramped flight just a couple of inches extra legroom, or an
aisle seat, or being able to sit together makes all the difference.
We’ve had our reservation messed around
once or twice, but we’ve never had the experience of someone I know: getting to
his seat only to find it occupied by somebody else – and that someone was very
reluctant to move. If that had happened to me I don’t know how I’d have
reacted. But my friend didn’t hesitate: he doggedly ploughed his way up the
aisle against the tide of struggling humanity to speak to the cabin staff.
And of course, once he’d done that, the
issue was speedily dealt with. A large and slightly intimidating flight
attendant bore down on the culprit and said, “Excuse me, there seems to be some
confusion over seating. May I see your ticket, please.” And the interloper was
on his way in seconds.
I’d like you to try and imagine it’s you
in the wrong seat. Imagine the impatient flight attendant standing over you.
Picture your fellow passengers craning their necks to see what’s going on as
you gather your bits and pieces together, grinning as you get your bag and coat
down from the overhead locker and shuffle your way back to your allotted seat.
Humiliation.
Jesus painted a similar word picture for
the ambitious socialites at a banquet he attended. He saw them jostling for position
at what we’d call the top table, and he gave them a very shrewd piece of
advice: If you really want to impress, don’t make a beeline for the top. Sit
somewhere lower down the pecking order. Then, when the final seating is sorted
out, rather than being evicted from somebody else’s place, everyone will see
you promoted.
Good social advice, but is there
anything else to it? After all, it’s not particularly punchy as parables go. In
fact, if the Gospel writer hadn’t said ‘he told them this parable’, then I
wonder how many of us would have noticed that it was one! On the other hand, there
is a twist at the end – just enough of a twist to make clear that this is about
more than just etiquette: ”For all those
who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be
exalted”.
And yet, even that seems a rather commonplace
thought, doesn’t it? A thought that’s expressed more punchily elsewhere in Scripture.
“Pride comes before a fall” or “Blessed are the meek”. It’s such a
familiar idea that we could easily miss just how pointed and punishing Jesus’
words are in this particular setting. And in order to see that, we need to go
back to the beginning of the episode.
The story starts when Jesus goes to
dinner with a senior religious leader on the Sabbath. He knows they’re watching
for things they can pick him up on, and no doubt he’s looking for a chance to make
a statement about his priorities. As it happens, there’s a man there with a
distressing medical condition. Jesus knows how rigid his fellow-guests are
about working on the Sabbath. So he asks an outright question. It’s effectively,
“OK, what should I do here guys: follow the rules or do good for somebody.”
The sad thing is, when he puts it like
that, he meets a stony silence. In their hearts, they almost certainly know
what’s right. But no one will risk being the first to say it in front of their
peers. So Jesus goes ahead and heals the patient. And can’t you just see them exchanging
smug glances. “Hah!” they’re thinking. “We can tell he’s no holy man.”
So Jesus begins to reason with them. “Come
on,” he says. “There has to be a limit. Suppose you saw a child fall down a
well on the Sabbath, would you leave her there to die for the sake of your
rules.” The answer is obvious, of course. But they can see that this is the
thin end of the wedge, so again they stay silent.
And that’s the point at which Jesus
draws attention to their jostling for the best seats. But it’s not the jostling
itself he focuses on, so much as the pride and self-importance that drive it. Remember,
he’s still tackling the misguided leaders who put rules before people. And here
is what Jesus is saying to them:
You
are so proud of your ancient traditions that you’re neglecting the amazing
things God is doing right in front of your eyes. A time will come when the
things of which you’ve been so proud will be revealed as worthless, and you
will be humiliated. In contrast, those
who have humbly embraced what God is doing will be seen as the really important
ones – the true heirs of God’s promises.
I wonder if Jesus sees a similar inversion
of his priorities in the disagreements shaking the church apart today – the
splits over worship styles, gender, sexuality and so on. He certainly valued the
law and his people’s traditions, but not when they got in the way of healing
and justice. And he demands that our first allegiance should be to him in
person. He won’t accept second place to our religious or ethical traditions. He
won’t be coopted by either traditionalists or reformers.
His words challenge us to think deeply
about whom we are hurting, whom we are oppressing, whom we are excluding, and
what it’s doing to our relationship with God, when we put our causes and
traditions before him and before other people. And whatever we see as our
justification for doing so, whether it’s Scripture or Church tradition or the
guidance of the Holy Spirit, or an exalted view of human rights, we can expect
to look back on our words and actions with shame when we see at last what our
Lord and Saviour is really like.
The Apostle Paul cuts to the heart of
the message in our reading from Ephesians, when he calls us to live in a manner
worthy of our calling. Be humble and gentle, he wrote; be patient. Live in
unity and peace. Because there is one body and one Spirit, one hope for all of
us; one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all.
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