The Divine Invitation

The Fifteenth Sunday After Pentecost

Luke 14:1, 7-14

The Divine Invitation
The Rev. Brett P. Backus

         Every once in a while I find myself looking out, scanning the congregation, and hoping to catch a glimpse of his face. Hoping to see Michael, someone who's last name I never even knew, and yet someone who I strongly doubt I will ever forget, sitting among you all in the pews. Every once in a awhile I find myself hoping that he has finally accepted the invitation. Every once in awhile I find myself hoping that he finally felt able to join in this celebration around the altar, and find a home in this foretaste of the divine banquet. However the truth is that I not only search the pews for his face because I hope for his homecoming into the Body of Christ and Kingdom of God that exists here and now, but I search also because I deeply desire to thank him for the enormous lesson that I doubt he even realizes he taught me. A valued lesson in true humility and hospitality.

          It was a typical day for me, practicing the usual balancing act that we all engage in and on the run from one place to the other. Though I'm not proud of it, I admit that as I came walking quickly into the church office area and saw him standing near our little clergy enclave, I assumed he was looking for a hand out and thought to myself, “man I really don't have time for this right now.” My read of Michael couldn't have been more off. As we sat down in my office and began to talk, I realized fairly quickly that this conversation was nothing of the sort. In fact, it ended up being a conversation that brought me to my knees spiritually and that has changed my life in some interesting ways.

          You see, Michael had seen and done some horrific things. A draft dodger initially, caught at the Canadian border when he was 17 and given the option of either serving or going to jail. He chose to serve, and because of his exceptional gifts, he was placed in a covert intelligence unit and served during the Vietnam War in places that our government still denies American presence to this day. As Michael began to tell me his story of horror, helplessness, and guilt; his experiences of having dealt innumerable deaths with his bare hands to all forms and walks of life, of being faced with the dilemma of either killing innocent people or endangering his brothers in combat and himself; in the midst of all of this he admitted to me that that moment, in my office, was the very first time in his whole life that he had uttered a single word of his experiences to anyone, even to the detriment of his own marriage, his own family, and his career. Michael, a cradle Episcopalian who hadn't darkened the doors of a church in over some 40 years, a man just passing through Tennessee trying to complete his bucket list and dealing with terminal liver cancer, somehow found his way to our church doors and into my office. So, having no words in reaction to the tear filled story I heard, I did the only thing I knew to do. Michael and I headed down to the church columbarium where we shared in a service of reconciliation and Eucharist. At the end, after a hug and a hand shake, I watched Michael walk out to his car, never to be seen again. That, for me, was one of the biggest lessons in humility and hospitality that I have ever experienced.

          This morning, Jesus speaks to us about humility and hospitality as well. He speaks to us and to the recent converts of Christ that make up Luke's audience through two parables set around a dinner gathering. While this morning's lectionary is wonderful because all the readings today have something to say related to this theme, the Gospel lesson itself leaves something to be desired and was honestly a source of frustration for me as I prepared this week because it actually fails to give us the whole story.         

          In reality, today's Gospel is basically only two parts separated out from a larger four part section in Luke, and essentially we end up missing out on the beginning and end of this grouping. We miss out on Jesus making a move to establish authority by healing on the Sabbath, and following His parables about the treatment and inclusion of others with a third and final banquet parable, ultimately dealing with the invitation of all and those who reject it. As far as I can tell, beside the fact that I probably just bored you all to death......hahahaha!, this is very important, because without it our understanding of Jesus' message to us this morning is skewed.

            You see, while Jesus' call to good table manners and general moral behavior towards others is alone a worthy message, when placed in the proper context, we begin to see that Jesus was really talking about so much more. Not just turning social norms on their heads and seeking social justice, which by the way can still be self serving, but actually an entire take over of one's heart, of one's motivations, of one's intentions, and the love that grows out of and is manifested in one's life as a result. When we understand and remember that Luke was written to converts, and we include the banquet parable that was originally missing this morning, we begin to see. Today's lessons, Jesus' parables, are concerned with true conversion, or submission to Christ and the way that that effects us. Luke's Jesus is concerned with how those who confess Christ experience the power of the Resurrection in their own lives. He is concerned with whether or not our relationship with Christ has actually changed the very core of who we are so that it can even be seen in all we do.

          So, once we dig in to this Scripture enough and begin to shift our view of it, the message becomes something pretty relevant for us. It becomes a healthy reminder. Today Jesus reminds us through His parables that indeed we are all invited to His divine banquet. We the imperfect, we the untouchables, we the sinners, we the misfits, we who were seen as unfit in God's eyes. Yes, all are invited. No strings attached. At the same time, Christ's words for us today remind us that we are only able to truly love others because we have already accepted the invitation. We have already experienced through humility the all encompassing and infinite love of God through Christ.

          So, when we sing, “and they'll know we are Christians by our love,” it isn't because Jesus taught us how to be cordial and treat others with kindness, but because as Christians we are to be so radically changed by Christ's love for us that it defines us and radiates through all we do. So, when we engage in acts of charity, outreach, or mission, it isn't just because Jesus taught us that those things are good, but because as Christians we are to be so filled with Christ's love that any excuse to share that love with others is fully embraced. So, when we say that we are to love others as Christ has loved us, it isn't only because Jesus taught us through His actions to forgive and care for all people, but because as Christians we are to actually put those who we don't like, those who annoy us, those who we can't stand, those who we dare not touch, those who we judge, before ourselves. We are to truly love them. Not just hand them a couple of dollars, or give them a smile, or a nice gesture, but to be their friend, to be their family, to be their home. Those are the kinds of gifts that one can ever repay, just like the gift that God gave each of us in Christ.

        That, is what I saw in my interaction with Michael. On the one side, I saw a man who, because of the horrible things he had seen and done, could not allow himself to be loved by God. He could not bring himself to accept the banquet invitation and therefore, he was unable to truly or wholly love others who had come into his life or crossed his path. On the other side, I saw a man who, because of the constant internal struggles we all go through, had forgotten about humility. He had not been brought to his knees in a long enough time that he initially failed to see the opportunity for true hospitality and therefore, he too was unable wholly love the person waiting outside his door.

       Friends, our call as Christians is a radical one. It is a call to give up, a call to give over, a call to sacrifice ourselves to God. But that requires humility. It requires our coming to grips with the idea that we need help and that we can't do it alone, but in doing so, in losing, we gain everything. In accepting the invitation, in dying to ourselves, we gain the fullness of joy and love of Christ which then radiates through all that we do and are. That is true radical hospitality. That is the call to which we are all invited to respond. To come, to be humbled, and to be filled with a Love that will in turn become the motivation and driving force behind all that we do. Brothers and Sisters in Christ, all of us are invited to this banquet.

                                                     But will we truly accept the invitation?

                                                                                                 Amen.