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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

In looking over all the pictures I took on our recent trip to Turkey, I noticed they all fall into pretty much two categories: The first category consists of the obligatory pictures of places--beautiful churches, palaces, ruins of Roman civilization. The other category consists of pictures of tables, laid out with food and drink, fascinating people seated around them.

In fact, 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.

In college, I remember dressing up in a tuxedo and serving a table in the home of one of my English professors, who would host elaborate feasts for all the other professors in the English Department. He would go all out, preparing a five course meal around his giant, ornate, gothic style table. Halfway through the evening, he would excuse himself and come back to the kitchen to make sure that his waiters (his students) were well fed. I loved those banquets, and I loved that man--his name was Grady Walker, and my eldest son, Grady, is named after him.

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.

Today's scripture passage starts around a table--a real table, before Jesus begins his parable. He's teaching those seated around the table what I would call "good table etiquette." Don't be presumptuous when seating yourself, or you might get embarassed. Be generous and kind--don't just invite people who will invite you back, but invite the people who don't usually get invited, the people who can't pay you back.

And one of the guests, perhaps alarmed at the idea of sharing a table with someone of a lower station, says in verse 15 "Blessed is ANYONE who will eat bread in the Kingdom of God." To put it in modern terms, it's kind of as if Jesus just said "Black lives matter" and one of his guests corrected him, saying, "No Jesus... ALL lives matter." While that may be true, the guest obviously missed the point Jesus was trying to make about the poor, the crippled, the blind and the lame (people who tend to get left out and ignored).

So Jesus tells a parable. Notice that verse 16 reads, "Then Jesus said to HIM." In other words, this parable is not directed to all the other people around the table. This guy, who clearly HAS been given a seat at the table, and is clearly anxious about who else Jesus might invite, gets his very own parable, told just for him. We'll come back to that later. But first the parable.

A man throws a party, and sends out invitations. In Middle Eastern tradition, there are always 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; are you in? 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.

But when the time comes, in verse 18, we read that one by one, 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 (ἠγόρασα -egorasa) 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 how marriage worked.

Another way to look at it is this: Everyone was interested in the IDEA of the banquet (that's why they said yes in the first place) but when the time came to actually put actions to their words, other things were more important.

The fact that these invited guests could actually afford a piece of land, a team of oxen, a wife...that indicates they were fairly well off, or at least not hurting for food, for entertainment, for company. Exactly the sort of people you'd want to come to your party.

But when they decline, the master does something unexpected: He throws open the invitation to exactly the sort of people who don't typically get invited to parties--the poor, the homeless, the hungry, the disabled. Ironically, these are the people who are probably in the most need of a good meal, some entertainment, some good company.

Does that strategy work? Well, we don't know. Like last week's parable, this parable ends with a cliffhanger. Once the master of the house throws the doors wide open, we never get to hear who shows up to the banquet. He says that "none of those who were invited shall taste my dinner" but we already knew that, because we heard them give their excuses.

Once more, the point of Jesus' parable is not the end, not who shows up in the end. The point is who gets invited.

Who are we in this parable? The banquet is pretty obviously God's kingdom, because this whole parable is in response to the man who tells Jesus "Blessed is ANYONE who will eat bread in the Kingdom of God." So that means the master of the house is most likely God. So the question is, from among the remaining characters, who are you? Well that should be easy enough--are you poor, crippled, lame or blind? Some of you might be saying now, "Why yes, that's me--I'm poor!" The Greek word Jesus uses here for poor is πτωχός (ptochos), which Strong's Greek dictionary defines as completely lacking any earthly resources, destitute, a beggar.

Most of us here today are not in that second group. So what about the first group? Are we the ones who get invited to the banquet, to God's kingdom, and say "Yes--I want to go!" but then when real, actual, commitment is required on our part...we make excuses and get distracted by other things? Is that us?

Well, maybe. I'd even say probably. The person to whom Jesus is addressing this parable is certainly in that group, and many of us do let our possessions, or pursuit of material things get in the way of our relationship with God.

But there's another character in this story, one who rarely gets much notice. It's the slave (or the servant). The one who faithfully does what the master asks, who goes out into the world and makes the invitation, three separate times, and possibly four! In this parable, I think that we--as Christians, and as a church--are supposed to be that faithful servant, inviting people to the banquet that is God's kingdom.

When we describe the banquet, when we share the joy that we have found in this place, the depth and the beauty that our faith provides, some people will reject the invitation. Some people will enthusiastically say, "yes, I want that," but will never actually walk through these doors. Do we give up and stop there? No. Do we keep going back again and again to the same people who said no (or who said yes but never came)? No. In fact, this parable instructs us not even to go back to the people we THINK should be here, but rather to those about whom we have doubts and misgivings. They are the ones we should invite.

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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 to 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, our attachment to the things of this world, that's most likely to keep us from sitting at his table.

When my grandmother was getting ready to move 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 away as many things as her children and grandchildren and great grandchildren would take. Then she 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.

I noticed that a funny thing happened in that process: 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 now 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 posessions, 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, it's never too late 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. Let go of your cares and burdens, in order to rediscover your deep need, your great desire to sit down at the Lord's table with him, in the great company of all the saints in every age.

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.