what makes you odd?

A sermon on the Gospel of Luke 14:1, 7-14

We should note a couple of things right at the beginning.

Jesus had dinner with his opponents; even his enemies watching him closely and plotting his death. That deserves mention simply because it is so rare in our experience that people who disagree actually sit down with one another. We take for granted the divisions that name us – red, blue, conservative, liberal – and rarely cross lines unless by accident or necessity. Like, for instance, the occasional wedding party that brings all sorts of people together that might otherwise remain distant. That being our experience we might expect Jesus to shun his opponents rather than have dinner with them. As best I can tell from the gospels, Jesus never passes on an opportunity to have dinner and a conversation. That’s something to remember. 

It’s one thing to notice the kind of jockeying for social prominence that is so common, and not just in the corridors of power. Jesus has courage and compassion. Here in the home of the Pharisee he displays both, and once again gets into trouble for his efforts. 

Is it possible to teach humility to one who needs it without humiliating the one who doesn’t? The obnoxious and annoying ones whose ego demands a place at the head table and in every photo opportunity might actually benefit from a set back and a stern reprimand from Jesus: those who exalt themselves will be brought low. Probably the rest of us too can take a lesson in humility when so much of what we experience is about getting to the top and staying there as long as possible. It’s the cultural air we breathe and implicit in most of our education. Remember that old show House of Cards, the dark television parable of power with a host of characters who demonstrate what it costs to maintain social power by manipulating every relationship including their own until they arrive at the top? Other than a new set of real life characters - not much has changed - since that show vanished, as they all do. How do I get to the best seat in the house is the only question that matters at the end of the day. For folks with that driving question, Jesus’ lesson in humility is apt.

Take the low place and you will arrive at the right place. 

Jesus’ parable is a cautionary tale for those who are scrambling for the high places. But it bestows dignity on those in the low places. Because when you take the low place and you will arrive at the right place: the right place in the kingdom of God. 

For example, against all odds, Jesus’ humility is what the late Pope Francis displayed for the world to witness. With his plain robe, his apartment in a community of priests, and his carrying his own baggage (in every sense of that phrase!) he pointed to the low place that is the right place in the reign of God. In an astonishing break with the debauchery and scandal we’ve come to expect, Pope Francis enacted the second lesson Jesus offered to his host. Humility is the personal practice of compassion that gives way to the social practice of hospitality. 

Go to the low place and you will arrive at the right place. This is hospitality Jesus’ style. 

Pope Francis is no longer with us, which is no reason to forget him. In the spirit of remembering those who have gone before us, I want to recall what he did that shocked the world, offended his Church curia and brought joy to those looking for a sign of Jesus. Let me offer a few examples. On one of the holiest holidays of the Christian calendar, he goes to a prison to wash the feet of inmates, which is the deepest way of offering forgiveness and the grace of Christ to anyone, let alone a stranger behind bars. He kneels at the feet of a young Muslim teenager to kiss her feet with kiss of Christ. Of course everyone was shocked – some with joy – while many were deeply offended to such radical hospitality extended to the least among us. Doesn’t that sound familiar? 

In his very first general audience before crowds gathered in St. Peter's Square, Francis spoke of how following Christ "means learning to come out of ourselves ... in order to meet others, in order to go toward the edges of our existence, to take the first steps towards our brothers and sisters, especially those who are farthest from us, those who are forgotten, those who need understanding, consolation and assistance."

Many years ago I was a social worker with persons suffering mental illness. My focus was on older persons who were in a gerontology group home for those with mental illness, rather than a large institution. When my wife and I were married, we decided to invite the residents to our wedding. To them it was like being invited to the kingdom of heaven. They sat on the front row of the church and smiled at us the whole time. Our guests embraced them and together they made our wedding a joyful taste of the kingdom of God. 

The writer Flannery O’Connor famously paraphrased Jesus, “You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you odd.” I think the same can be said of the community that practices hospitality Jesus’ style. The truth shall make us all odd because all the odd ones will be welcomed here at the Table of the Lord and we shall feast together in the kingdom of God.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. 
Amen.