PENTECOST 14 02-09-07
Jeremiah 2:4-13
Psalm 81:2, 10-16
Hebrews 13:1-8, 15-16
Luke 14:1-14
I like parties. I like dinner parties, dancing parties, fancy dress parties, scruffy BBQ parties; I like meeting-new-friends parties, formal parties, impromptu backyard parties- if there’s a party, I’ll be in it. If we have a party, we’ll plan and shop and cook and re-arrange furniture and wear ourselves out; but thoroughly enjoy offering hospitality to our friends and family. Today we have family coming over for lunch to celebrate Father’s Day.
So when I was reading Luke this week, I had a few niggles of guilt. When I give a banquet- well, maybe a BBQ- do I invite the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind? Or do I invite my family and friends? I don’t invite my rich neighbours because I haven’t got any.
I thought back to all the parties we’ve given over the years and the people we’ve entertained, and couldn’t really think of any particularly disabled guests. (A few slightly odd ones, perhaps)
Of course, in Jesus’ time people who were disabled would most likely be in desperate straits, because if you couldn’t work, you didn’t eat: no disability pension in those days. So he was referring to those in society who were helpless and possibly starving.
OK then, I thought: but I haven’t entertained anyone who was starving either: I don’t personally know anyone who is so poor they don’t have enough to eat.
So are we wrong to have parties for our friends and families? I came to the conclusion that Jesus wasn’t saying that, because it would contradict his own lifestyle: the gospels present him as quite a party animal. Luke’s gospel has around eight different stories of Jesus at dinner with various people.
Surely then Jesus didn’t mean that we shouldn’t ever have a party for our friends: that isn’t the point of what he was saying.
The point is that we should give help to people who cannot possibly give anything back to us. The social scene in Jesus’ day was very different to ours, but perhaps similar in that if someone invited a guest to dinner, that guest would be expected to return the favour.
This principle of reciprocity was widely current and accepted in the ancient world, and to a large extent it still is today. We expect people to reciprocate. If I give you a Christmas present, I expect you will give me a Christmas present. If I invite you to my birthday party, I would be a bit miffed if you didn’t invite me to yours!
In business it can be the same: quid pro quo, you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours. This appeals to our sense of fairness and justice: if I help you, I expect you to help me.
That’s all well and good, but does that mean that if I know you couldn’t possibly return the favour I won’t help you?
I think Jesus is telling us that we should seek to give to those who are so needy they cannot give anything in return. I may not be able to invite a hungry refugee to dinner but I can send money to an organisation that will feed her.
Jesus said ‘you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.’ This still sounds like we’d be doing a good deed in the hope of a reward, even if the reward isn’t collected until after you die.
Perhaps Jesus is simply saying don’t worry about it, don’t think about rewards because God has it all in hand. And after all, think about how God acts: God gives to us without hope of recompense or reward, because what could we possibly do for God? The Creator of the Universe loves us but doesn’t need or want us to pay back all that we are given.
This passage is about an attitude that leads to action. My attitude should be one of humility: I am no better or worse than anybody else, so it doesn’t matter where I sit at the table. My attitude should be that God has given me everything I have, and I am free to give to those who are struggling without expecting anything in return.
How did the people at the leader of the Pharisee’s dinner respond to what Jesus said? We’re not told, but we can guess that they were not too thrilled. What Jesus said probably sounded quite strange; in those days, the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind were thought to be those from whom God had withheld blessing. Their afflictions were believed to have resulted from sin. They were excluded from the Temple and considered unclean, so why would any good Jew invite them to dinner?
Today, we don’t tend to believe that people are poor, sick or disabled as a result of sin, although sin may be a direct or indirect cause of affliction. A family may be living in poverty because of a corrupt government; a person could be crippled after being hit by a drunk driver. But we don’t look at a disabled person and say he or she must have sinned to be in that condition, as people seem to have done in ancient times. So is there an application of this for us today?
Who do we exclude from our hospitality? Are we truly an inclusive, welcoming church, parish, community, or family? Do we make the good news of the kingdom easily accessible to everyone? We need, as a parish, to take up the challenge of giving away the gospel to all who need to hear it. That includes people who would never darken a church door as well as those who might join us here.
May we go from here encouraged to think about how we can be like Jesus, ready to turn the values of society upside-down if they would have us limit our generosity to people like ourselves.
God’s grace is without limit: God’s parties are open to everyone. Let’s make sure we tell people.
Let us pray.
Loving God,
Thank you for everything, for it is all your gift.
Encourage us to share, to give, and to demand nothing in return.
Encourage us to have attitudes that lead to action.
Encourage us to see that, although our lives may seem small and insignificant, we can make a difference in the world.
When we are tempted to give in to the culture of greed that permeates our world, remind us of Jesus, whose life demonstrated self-giving at its greatest.
For it is in his name that we pray. Amen.
Jeremiah 2:4-13
Psalm 81:2, 10-16
Hebrews 13:1-8, 15-16
Luke 14:1-14
I like parties. I like dinner parties, dancing parties, fancy dress parties, scruffy BBQ parties; I like meeting-new-friends parties, formal parties, impromptu backyard parties- if there’s a party, I’ll be in it. If we have a party, we’ll plan and shop and cook and re-arrange furniture and wear ourselves out; but thoroughly enjoy offering hospitality to our friends and family. Today we have family coming over for lunch to celebrate Father’s Day.
So when I was reading Luke this week, I had a few niggles of guilt. When I give a banquet- well, maybe a BBQ- do I invite the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind? Or do I invite my family and friends? I don’t invite my rich neighbours because I haven’t got any.
I thought back to all the parties we’ve given over the years and the people we’ve entertained, and couldn’t really think of any particularly disabled guests. (A few slightly odd ones, perhaps)
Of course, in Jesus’ time people who were disabled would most likely be in desperate straits, because if you couldn’t work, you didn’t eat: no disability pension in those days. So he was referring to those in society who were helpless and possibly starving.
OK then, I thought: but I haven’t entertained anyone who was starving either: I don’t personally know anyone who is so poor they don’t have enough to eat.
So are we wrong to have parties for our friends and families? I came to the conclusion that Jesus wasn’t saying that, because it would contradict his own lifestyle: the gospels present him as quite a party animal. Luke’s gospel has around eight different stories of Jesus at dinner with various people.
Surely then Jesus didn’t mean that we shouldn’t ever have a party for our friends: that isn’t the point of what he was saying.
The point is that we should give help to people who cannot possibly give anything back to us. The social scene in Jesus’ day was very different to ours, but perhaps similar in that if someone invited a guest to dinner, that guest would be expected to return the favour.
This principle of reciprocity was widely current and accepted in the ancient world, and to a large extent it still is today. We expect people to reciprocate. If I give you a Christmas present, I expect you will give me a Christmas present. If I invite you to my birthday party, I would be a bit miffed if you didn’t invite me to yours!
In business it can be the same: quid pro quo, you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours. This appeals to our sense of fairness and justice: if I help you, I expect you to help me.
That’s all well and good, but does that mean that if I know you couldn’t possibly return the favour I won’t help you?
I think Jesus is telling us that we should seek to give to those who are so needy they cannot give anything in return. I may not be able to invite a hungry refugee to dinner but I can send money to an organisation that will feed her.
Jesus said ‘you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.’ This still sounds like we’d be doing a good deed in the hope of a reward, even if the reward isn’t collected until after you die.
Perhaps Jesus is simply saying don’t worry about it, don’t think about rewards because God has it all in hand. And after all, think about how God acts: God gives to us without hope of recompense or reward, because what could we possibly do for God? The Creator of the Universe loves us but doesn’t need or want us to pay back all that we are given.
This passage is about an attitude that leads to action. My attitude should be one of humility: I am no better or worse than anybody else, so it doesn’t matter where I sit at the table. My attitude should be that God has given me everything I have, and I am free to give to those who are struggling without expecting anything in return.
How did the people at the leader of the Pharisee’s dinner respond to what Jesus said? We’re not told, but we can guess that they were not too thrilled. What Jesus said probably sounded quite strange; in those days, the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind were thought to be those from whom God had withheld blessing. Their afflictions were believed to have resulted from sin. They were excluded from the Temple and considered unclean, so why would any good Jew invite them to dinner?
Today, we don’t tend to believe that people are poor, sick or disabled as a result of sin, although sin may be a direct or indirect cause of affliction. A family may be living in poverty because of a corrupt government; a person could be crippled after being hit by a drunk driver. But we don’t look at a disabled person and say he or she must have sinned to be in that condition, as people seem to have done in ancient times. So is there an application of this for us today?
Who do we exclude from our hospitality? Are we truly an inclusive, welcoming church, parish, community, or family? Do we make the good news of the kingdom easily accessible to everyone? We need, as a parish, to take up the challenge of giving away the gospel to all who need to hear it. That includes people who would never darken a church door as well as those who might join us here.
May we go from here encouraged to think about how we can be like Jesus, ready to turn the values of society upside-down if they would have us limit our generosity to people like ourselves.
God’s grace is without limit: God’s parties are open to everyone. Let’s make sure we tell people.
Let us pray.
Loving God,
Thank you for everything, for it is all your gift.
Encourage us to share, to give, and to demand nothing in return.
Encourage us to have attitudes that lead to action.
Encourage us to see that, although our lives may seem small and insignificant, we can make a difference in the world.
When we are tempted to give in to the culture of greed that permeates our world, remind us of Jesus, whose life demonstrated self-giving at its greatest.
For it is in his name that we pray. Amen.
Lorna Green, Assistant Curate, Westfield
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