Sermon for May 6th, 2017
Luke 14:12-24
12 He 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. 13 But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. 14 And you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”
15 One of the dinner guests, on hearing this, said to him, “Blessed is anyone who will eat bread in the kingdom of God!” 16 Then Jesus said to him, “Someone gave a great dinner and invited many. 17 At the time for the dinner he sent his slave to say to those who had been invited, ‘Come; for everything is ready now.’ 18 But they all alike began to make excuses. The first said to him, ‘I have bought a piece of land, and I must go out and see it; please accept my regrets.’ 19 Another said, ‘I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I am going to try them out; please accept my regrets.’ 20 Another said, ‘I have just been married, and therefore I cannot come.’ 21 So the slave returned and reported this to his master. Then the owner of the house became angry and said to his slave, ‘Go out at once into the streets and lanes of the town and bring in the poor, the crippled, the blind, and the lame.’ 22 And the slave said, ‘Sir, what you ordered has been done, and there is still room.’ 23 Then the master said to the slave, ‘Go out into the roads and lanes, and compel people to come in, so that my house may be filled. 24 For I tell you, none of those who were invited will taste my dinner.’”
Small Stories, Big Ideas - The Great Banquet
Exactly one week ago today, I was on a giant airplane crossing the Atlantic Ocean on my way back to El Paso from the country of Turkey, where I had the opportunity to visit some old friends, and to visit the ancient city of Ephesus, which was where Mary, the mother of Jesus, and John the beloved disciple spent their retirement.
Needless to say, I took a lot of pictures. In looking over all those pictures this week, I noticed they all fall into pretty much two categories: There are the pictures of amazing places (beautiful churches, palaces, ancient ruins) and then the other category consists of pictures of amazing...tables--not that the tables themselves were amazing, but rather the amazing food and drink layed out upon them, and the fascinating people seated around them. Food (and sharing it around a table) is an important part of Turkish culture.
Every little shop we went to had a little table out in front of it on the street, and before any business could be transacted, the shop owner would invite us to sit down, would pour us a cup of tea, and tell us his or her life story. If you went to four shops right next door to each other, you sat down at four different tables, had four cups of tea, and listened to four different life stories! Some tables, like these, were small--and others (meals with old friends and new ones) were large tables spread with copious and diverse selections of exotic Turkish food. Some of my best memories of Turkey will always be the ones formed around a table.
But it's not just Turkey, either. Right here in El Paso, I will never forget two meals I had when I was just sixteen years old. One was at State Line. It was just me, my dad, some bread, some steak, and some sauteed mushrooms. I don't know what exactly made that meal so special--growing up in a family of six, maybe it's just one of my few memories of having my dad all to myself for an hour or two.
The other meal was at Chili's restaurant on Mesa street. It was the night of the Coronado High School Homecoming dance, and around the table were me, my friends John Wahrmund and Andy Moye. John's date that night was Ginger. Andy's date was Leah. And my date was a complete stranger--Ginger's friend, a blind date set up at the last minute. I can't even remember what food I ordered (probably chicken crispers), but sitting accross from me, my date was a quiet, beautiful girl in a baby blue dress with white lace. Her name was Amy. We were sixteen, and it was the very first of a lifetime of meals shared around countless tables.
Amy's family lived on Marimba Street, right around the corner from my grandmother's house on DeLeon. I remember a lot of meals at my grandmother's house, around her dining room table, through the years. When Amy and I moved back to El Paso a few years ago, it made me happy to see my own children sitting at my grandmother's, just as I had done when I was their age. When Grandma Betty moved here to White Acres, there was no way that giant dining room table was ever going to fit in her apartment...but one of the first phone calls I got from her after she moved here was her saying, "I found a great little table for my apartment but it needs some work--can you help me fix it?"
We live the best moments of our lives around tables that have been prepared for us, or tables that we have prepared for others. And I think that's why so many times in the Bible, Jesus compares heaven itself to a banquet or a feast around a lavish table.
In today's scripture passage, Jesus tells the story of a man who throws a party, and sends out invitations. Actually, if you read closely (and if you happen to be familiar with Middle Eastern customs) there are two invitations. The first one is what we would call the RSVP: I'm throwing a party; I want you to come; I need an idea of how many people to prepare for; will you come? The second invitation is to say: It's time; the table is set; come on over. Presumably, those who get the second invitation already said yes to the first invitation. Yes, count me in. Let me know when it's time.
But when the time comes, the guests who had previously said "yes" begin to make their excuses. Interestingly, all the excuses are somehow related to acquisition of material possessions. I just bought some land. I just bought a team of oxen. I just bought a wife--and yes, with due apologies here, in ancient Middle Eastern custom, that's pretty much how it worked.
They are all basically saying, "I can't come to the banquet, because I'm more interested in the stuff I just bought than in sitting at your table." And boy do we ever make that same mistake today. I'm guilty, too. I just bought a new cell phone, and here I am at the dinner table, but I'm not really here, because my face is directed at the screen, instead of my family and the meal we are sharing.
Of course, Jesus isn't talking about a literal meal here. He's talking about the Kingdom of Heaven. What person in their right mind would turn down an invitation like that? Well, they didn't...the first time. They all said yes. They all RSVP'd, just like we would. It's easy to SAY yes. But when the time comes actually DO something, to get up and follow where our master is leading us...well that's a bit harder. And what Jesus seems to be saying here is that it's our material possessions, the things of this world, and our attachment to them that's most likely to keep us from sitting at his table.
When my grandmother was getting ready to move here, to White Acres, she quickly realized that she had too much stuff. Years living in a house will do that to you. So she gave as many things to her children and grandchildren and great grandchildren as they would take, and then held a big rummage sale. Today, her apartment here is just as beautiful, just as warm and hospitable as any house she ever lived in...and it all fits in two rooms. But I noticed that a funny thing happened next: As her space got smaller, her world got bigger. That little table I fixed for her doesn't get used nearly as often, since she takes her meals in a dining hall, surrounded by friends at a larger table, prepared for her by the people of this community.
God's invitation to his kingdom is like that. In the end, the ones who end up coming to the banquet are the poor, the crippled, the blind and the lame. Why? Because they are the ones who have fewer earthly attachments, less to distract them and compete with the banquet. They are the ones with the greatest need and the greatest desire to sit at a lavish table where they are not only fed, but cherished.
What are the things that distract you from God's invitation? What are the things that cause you to turn away from his table? Maybe they are material things--the pursuit of property, posessions, or financial gain. Although I suspect that most of you here today, like my grandmother, already had your big rummage sale long ago.
Maybe in your case, it is spiritual or emotional or intellectual distractions that keep you away from God's table. Maybe you said yes to God's invitation years ago, but it's been so long that you've forgotten the way to the banquet table, and in any case, other things seem more important on a day to day basis.
If so, maybe it's time for a spiritual rummage sale. Maybe it's time to downsize all the things pulling your heart and your mind and your soul in so many directions, in order to rediscover your deep need, your great desire to sit down at the Lord's table with him, in the company of all the saints in every age.
Perhaps the old hymn says it best:
Turn your eyes upon Jesus, Look full in His wonderful face, And the things of earth will grow strangely dim, In the light of His glory and grace.
