
Photo by Brooke Lark on unsplash
Karen Hollis | August 31, 2025 Pentecost 12
Proverbs 25:6-7
Don’t demand an audience with the king
or push for a place among the great.
It’s better to wait for an invitation to the head table
than to be sent away in public disgrace.
Luke 14: 1, 7-14
One Sabbath day Jesus went to eat dinner in the home of a leader of the Pharisees, and the people were watching him closely. When Jesus noticed that all who had come to the dinner were trying to sit in the seats of honor near the head of the table, he gave them this advice: “When you are invited to a wedding feast, don’t sit in the seat of honor. What if someone who is more distinguished than you has also been invited? The host will come and say, ‘Give this person your seat.’ Then you will be embarrassed, and you will have to take whatever seat is left at the foot of the table! “Instead, take the lowest place at the foot of the table. Then when your host sees you, he will come and say, ‘Friend, we have a better place for you!’ Then you will be honored in front of all the other guests. For those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” Then Jesus turned to his host. “When you put on a luncheon or a banquet,” he said, “don’t invite your friends, brothers, relatives, and rich neighbors. For they will invite you back, and that will be your only reward. Instead, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. Then at the resurrection of the righteous, God will reward you for inviting those who could not repay you.
Goodness, what a text. There is so much in here and we’re going to get to most of it. : ) Let us pray
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be reflections of your word to us today, in Christ’s name we pray. Amen
When we have large holiday gatherings, sometimes it’s difficult to get everyone around one table. Even when we pull the leaves out from under the bed or bring in from the garage that giant piece of particle board that holds up the table cloth . . . no matter the lengths we go to to try and get everyone around one table, sometimes our invitations are too broad or the family grows too large. One Thanksgiving we ate at a long, pieced together, table in the living room, because our dining room simply wasn’t big enough for all 18 of us . . . and on the far end, you guessed it, a kids table. Those are not exactly seats of honour – one wouldn’t sit a guest there. Things are usually a little more relaxed and silly, and for someone like me who still hasn’t quite mastered the art of polite conversation, the kids table can be a gift . . . even if our plates are uncomfortably far from our faces.
When we hear a story of a feast, like this morning, we might first imagine this kind of modern dinner table with chairs, but this meal happens in a much larger space. Imagine a long, grand hall, but not too grand. In the centre is a large, fine rug, with a reclining couch at the head and one directly on either side, with low tables full of food. Past a couple of columns is a garden area, followed by an open doorway, where the uninvited, well aware of being excluded, will see the host at the other end of the room, sitting at the head. They will see room for a person to recline to the left and right with access to the host, and space where others will stand around the edges of the rug, while servants walk this way and that, transporting food and dishes.
The scene reminds me of an interview I was watching with some actor/celebrity. They were wondering aloud about when they’ll know when they’ve really made it. Have you made it in Hollywood when you get invited to Madonna’s house after the Oscars? But once you get there, you see this roped off area, where the really important people are invited. Maybe the next year you get into the roped off area, but then you see a roped off staircase going up to where one could actually hang out with the host. There are always more rungs to climb in the system of privilege.
Jesus enters this dinner situation and watches as the guests compete for the place of honour. In this system, one gains honour at the expense of others – there just isn’t enough to go around – so they all want that top spot. What other option do they have? Jesus is watching this scene and has a few ideas he doesn’t mind sharing. He says to the guests, why not just let it all go and find a spot at the foot of the table?
What does the view look like from the bottom? I invite us to imagine ourselves there. With some distance between us and the social power, perhaps we can wiggle free enough from the system that we can see things we hadn’t seen before.
We have free will to choose where to seek validation and our self-worth. So, we could take a moment and check in with our beloved selves. What we find inside might be a bit complex. There may be needs and voices competing with one another, but we might listen harder for the voice of unconditional love that is hard wired into us. I assure you, it’s there. The expression of love we find within can never be taken from us – we can always find within us the love of our creator. When we look to God, we find ourselves hosted around a table of a different shape – at a round table it’s difficult to find the head and foot. There is room enough for all and love enough for all, for God celebrates each of us.
Turning our attention outward again, we are surrounded by different people there at the lowest place in the gathering. They are not the people who are known for their wealth or power. Their gifts are invisible to those vying for honour. Perhaps they are gifted with words, making things with their hands, have a sense of humor that lifts people up and brings us together, natural leaders, truth tellers. Through the door at the end, we can see those who haven’t been invited at all. Jesus notices them too, and addresses the host.
He challenges them to invite people who cannot repay them with a fancy party or with the currency of honour, for they live by a different system.
I read this week a surprising quote by James Scott, who writes of a social system such as this: “It is as if those who find themselves at the bottom of the social heap develop cultural forms which promise them dignity, respect, and economic comfort which they lack in the world as it is.”1 In other words, the peasant class – those uninvited – create a culture that is polar opposite to the ruling class. So, when Jesus is suggesting the host invite to dinner peasants and a greater variety of humans, he is suggesting an influx of values and practices that diffuse the power of the social class itself, that helps us to break free altogether.
L’Arche communities, like our local I Belong Center live by values that are counter cultural in this way and seek to influence the wider community. “L’Arche is built on the recognition of the ability of individuals with diverse abilities to welcome and accept others as they are. [They] believe that this gift has an important and transformative effect, helping each one of us to become more fully human and thus helping to humanize our entire society.”2 That reality is palpable when you walk in the door.
As we prepare to leave this gathering, let’s just zoom out for a moment and take a larger view. Notice that even before any food is served, Jesus speaks statement after radical statement, inviting everyone there to rethink why they are there and what they want. When he speaks, people listen and he easily draws an audience, he has people to teach and influence, for the purpose of making unjust systems more human. He is well aware that the opportunity to influence also comes with visibility and scrutiny. It’s a balancing act – how much am I willing to be seen, and how much do I want to influence people and create change?
There are any number of examples in the world today, especially with all of the people speaking out about changes next door that are making things less human and less just. But I was thinking about pride was last weekend in the CV. Have you heard people say before, pride is protest? It’s because pride was birthed out of protest. Since the 1960’s queer community and allies have been finding strength and safety in numbers to say to the broader society: “we exist!” Especially when rights are being threatened for new generations of queer folk, it is crucial to come together and be seen. I think the pride celebration this year was twice as big as it was 2 years ago when it started. More people coming together, standing with pride, helps create a community that is more safe, affirming, and just for all.
As we continue on in the unfolding of history and life, let us look around our lives . . . look through the eyes of Christ . . . and wonder: how can we make this more human? Thanks be to God.