A Dangerous Dinner Guest – Part 3 – Luke 14

  And He also went on to say 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, otherwise they may also invite you in return and that will be your repayment.  But when you give a reception, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed, since they do not have the means to repay you; for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”

  When one of those who were reclining at the table with Him heard this, he said to Him, “Blessed is everyone who will eat bread in the kingdom of God!”

  But He said to him, “A man was giving a big dinner, and he invited many; and at the dinner hour he sent his slave to say to those who had been invited, ‘Come; for everything is ready now.’  But they all alike began to make excuses. The first one said to him, ‘I have bought a piece of land and I need to go out and look at it; please consider me excused.’  Another one said, 'I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I am going to try them out; please consider me excused.’ Another one said, ‘I have married a wife, and for that reason I cannot come.’ And the slave came back and reported this to his master. Then the head of the household became angry and said to his slave, ‘Go out at once into the streets and lanes of the city and bring in here the poor and crippled and blind and lame.’ And the slave said, ‘Master, what you commanded has been done, and still there is room.’ And the master said to the slave, ‘Go out into the highways and along the hedges, and compel them to come in, so that my house may be filled. For I tell you, none of those men who were invited shall taste of my dinner.’” (Luke 14:12-24 NASB)

This entry wraps up this account of Jesus as a dangerous dinner guest.  I connected the last two elements because they are connected in the story with a humorous circumstance.  I can’t disconnect them.  On the one hand I have Jesus correcting the host (he should have invited Swollen Joe and his compatriots instead), and on the other hand I have this guest trying to make the best of a bad situation.  Jesus squashes that too.  It’s really funny, or it was until I applied Jesus’ principle to myself.  Then all the fun went out of it.

This account starts with Jesus admonishing the host for inviting friends, relations, and wealthy neighbors.  Jesus said he should have invited the poor, crippled, lame, and the blind.  The reasoning is that these sorts of guests cannot repay the favor, and the host would have repayment in heaven.  Again with the risky admonishment from my Master.  How would it look to the neighbors?  What would my friends and relations think? Wouldn’t it insult them not to be invited when these low-life’s were?  In most cases, these human derelicts were far worse off than the servants serving the meal.

Preparations for such a meal could take days or weeks.  To then have this societal debris “reclining” at such a table in such a prepared house would be very uncomfortable for the household.  Can you imagine the stink?  Jesus proposes the unimaginable for a Pharisee, let alone one of their “leaders”.   The irony here is extended to the fact that one of these people was invited, but only as entertainment.  Jesus says Swollen Joe and his buddies should have made up the principle guests.  It is an enormous reversal to suggest such a thing.

I imagine the uncomfortable silence following Jesus’ correction of the host.  I can just imagine someone saying, “Awk-ward” to those nearest him.  One guest can’t take the awkward moment, and in a fit of codependency, tries to find that common ground where we can all just get along.  Jesus ends His correction of the host with a reference to the “Resurrection of the Righteous” which would place Him right in line with Pharisaic belief; common ground!  So, the guest pipes in to fill the awkward silence with, “Blessed is everyone who will eat bread in the Kingdom of God!”  Bad idea.

Jesus takes the opportunity to tell another parable, but this one in the form of a story.  The dinner host is God, making the host feel a bit better.  The meal is prepared, and the servants go to collect the guests.  But these guests all have excuses.  There are commentaries that examine the excuses for validity or invalidity.  I suspect that around the table there were examples of each excuse, and that’s why Jesus used them.  I imagine these excuses were used by the guests, and they knew who they were.  They could not escape applying the ending to themselves.  Now I don’t know that, but I suspect that.

In the parable as the guest refuse to come after all the preparations are made, Swollen Joe and his friends are invited instead.  It’s almost the exact list Jesus used with His host.  So far, it isn’t that bad.  Then the table still has room; not good.  Others are invited outside the city, i.e. Jerusalem, i.e. the Jewish nation.  The knife is thrust between the ribs.  But Jesus is not finished yet.  The final comment of the host (remember? God?) is that none of those men who were invited shall taste of my dinner!  And the knife is twisted.  Not only are Gentiles invited, but the “righteous Jews” are excluded!

At this point the party is over.  Luke stops his account right here; and I suspect there was little point to go on.  Who could eat after that?  You can’t expect to tell a Pharisee that he will be excluded from the Kingdom of God, that it’s his fault, and then expect him to have much of an appetite.  I have an idea that the only one left at the table was Jesus (which means He could have seconds, and bring some to His disciples later).  It is dangerous to bait the Creator of the universe at a dinner party, especially if you really want to celebrate.

So, what does this tell me about my Master?  Well, unfortunately for me, I am one of those hosts who would be corrected.  This account is really fun to read and teach, but when it comes down to application, well, now I’m uncomfortable.  It’s obvious; invite the homeless and those who live in inhospitable conditions to Sunday lunch.  I get it, but I don’t do it.  I can make all sorts of excuses (not like the guests, but close).  My wife wouldn’t like the house she works so hard to clean messed up by smelly humanity.  Um, yeah, perhaps, but that’s not it.  She’s very hospitable.  This one hits close.

The less obvious application is from the parable.  I’m not a Pharisee, or am I?  Have I ever given my Master a lame excuse not to do what He’s invited me to do with Him?  Ouch!  Yes, I would have to honestly say yes.  So, how different am I from these guests?  Jesus, the Son of the God they claim to worship stands among them, and they treat Him shamefully.  Yet I know, not just Who He is, but what He has done for me.  So when I tell Him, “Sorry, not now, I’m kind of busy here,” what am I really saying?  He’s not important.  What He did isn’t that important to me.  Worse?

When I tell Him that a tithe is too expensive, or I tell Him I don’t have time for an act of kindness, or I give Him some excuse for not speaking to my neighbor, what is the unspoken message?  To One Who gave His all for me and those I refuse to serve, I say, “Naw, thanks anyway.”  Really?  Seriously?  I’m going to say that to my Master?  I’m supposed to be a Knight of the Realm and a Servant to the King.  What kind of knight is afraid to serve, of other people?  What sort of servant will not obey?  How can I believe that I need more somehow from my Master before I will act?  Am I nuts?  I think so.

I have no room to judge the Pharisees.  Like them I have spent most of my life studying the Bible.  I should be different.  I have the benefit of the perspective looking back to the whole story.  I have less excuse than they do.  If I am to be an authentic believer I have the responsibility to live these principles out.  I should take the lowest place at the table and be happy to remain there.  I should invite those to meals who cannot invite me back.  I should never hand my Master an excuse for disobedience.  I am feeling the strange joy and peace of my Master’s twisted knife between my ribs.  Though I die, yet shall I live!

A Dangerous Dinner Guest – Part 2 – Luke 14

And He began speaking a parable to the invited guests when He noticed how they had been picking out the places of honor at the table, saying to them, “When you are invited by someone to a wedding feast, do not take the place of honor, for someone more distinguished than you may have been invited by him, and he who invited you both will come and say to you, ‘Give your place to this man,’ and then in disgrace you proceed to occupy the last place. “But when you are invited, go and recline at the last place, so that when the one who has invited you comes, he may say to you, ‘Friend, move up higher’; then you will have honor in the sight of all who are at the table with you. “For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.” (Luke 14:7-11 NASB)

Jesus is the invited guest at the home of a leader of the Pharisees on the Sabbath.  The other invitees are lawyers and other Pharisees.  They have just been trapped with what they tried to trap Jesus.  The host is busy wiping egg from his face and the meal is about ready to begin.  The “enemy” they hoped would have been routed proving excellent entertainment is still among them, and is now watching them.  Seeing how they behave at the table, Jesus decides to tell a “parable.”

This parable is a rebuke, but softened because the setting is changed to a “wedding” instead of an embarrassing Sabbath rabbi trap.  Jesus has noticed that the guests are jostling for “pole position” at the table.  He corrects them by telling them to take the lowest spot instead.  This had to get stares.  Sure, it makes sense, but it’s risky.  What if the host thinks that the guest actually wants that spot and leaves him there?  What if, believing he would embarrass the guest, he leaves the guest to his choice?  There’s the danger that the choice of the lowest place will become the seat I eat at; not very “Pharisee.”

See, if I grab the highest seat, there’s a good chance that, rather than embarrass me, the host will let me keep it.  Now that’s how a Pharisee thinks.  But they are in a room full of these guys.  Sure among the general population, they have a good chance of keeping the seat (but still, you never know).  But here it is mostly posturing among peers to grab for the chief seat.  The host is probably enjoying the only entertainment he will get all afternoon watching his guests vie for the top seat that he alone can give.  He gets to humiliate someone once the fray dies down.  This is great for him.

This account is in such contrast to Abraham serving Yahweh in Genesis 18.  Where Abraham stands at the ready to serve his exalted Guest, this host stands ready to dishonor then dismiss his Creator.  Abraham recognized Yahweh immediately; this host hasn’t a clue, even after the event.  This host is rude to his guests where Abraham is extremely polite.  The Pharisee leader doesn’t settle the seating issue right at the beginning; why does he let the fray happen at all?  This Pharisee leader is really a lousy host.

The irony from the previous part continues as now the Master of the entire universe turns to correct his fellow guests.  They had tried to trap him with the callous use of a disabled person, “Old Swollen Joe”, and were hung on their own gallows.  Now it’s Jesus’ turn.  His shot at them drives right to a very interesting character quality.  There is an inherent risk in taking the last place.  This concept only works if I can see myself as really belonging in the last place.  That is not easy for these guys, but is it any easier for me? 

This is a fun account to read.  The reversal on the Pharisees has the listening crowds in stitches and cheering for Jesus, their hero.  But I think I hear my Master calling me to take the lower place, pick up the towel and broom, and roll up my sleeves.  Sure it’s fun to read, but I need to consider the parable in its own light.  It applies to me as well.  I am in a position in my current church where I will need to make this perspective a spiritual discipline.  This is something I need to apply wherever I am called to serve.

In my setting, it’s like taking the seat with its back toward the door, the farthest one away from the pastor, whatever row happens to be available on Sunday (not my favorite, let’s hurry and get that one!).  These may seem like small things, but they reflect an attitude more in line with my Master.  Whatever I can do to better align myself with Him should be a priority.  But there are other areas in which I need to apply this parable.  They maybe more important, but they may not.

I have skills dealing with Scripture that are not common.  Because of that, they can seem impressive.  But any impression they make is an impression of me, of my skill.  I want to make very soft impressions so that I don’t take away from my Master’s much more important and impressive impression.  My skills can either enhance or distract from the view of my Master.  It’s my choice how I use them.  This parable teaches me that, from my Master’s perspective, I must choose to enhance. 

Except for the idea of “humility” this may not seem to fit the parable very well.  But I get that from the requirement here that I be willing to take the lower place, and be left there.  I may not be, but that’s what I shoot for.  If I seek to enhance the view of my Master enjoyed by others, then perhaps I may get some attention, but it will be as a conduit of the view of my Master.  That is as it should be.  I suppose that my interpretation stems from my belief that I am to be “set dressing” not center-stage.  Jesus is to be center stage.  So, I will take the lower place, and I will choose to enhance the view of others. 

A Dangerous House Guest – Part 1 – Luke 14

It happened that when He went into the house of one of the leaders of the Pharisees on the Sabbath to eat bread, they were watching Him closely. And there in front of Him was a man suffering from dropsy. And Jesus answered and spoke to the lawyers and Pharisees, saying, "Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath, or not?" But they kept silent. And He took hold of him and healed him, and sent him away. And He said to them, "Which one of you will have a son or an ox fall into a well, and will not immediately pull him out on a Sabbath day?" And they could make no reply to this. (Luke 14:1-6 NASB)

I am jumping ahead in my search for Jesus.  I am skipping to another account of Jesus as a dinner guest.  The wedding guest idea prompted me to seek out one of my favorite accounts of Jesus.  I found the details somewhat different than I remembered, because I was mixing accounts, possibly between gospels (which is another reason I am pursuing this concept in a blog – I want to get Him as He is, not as I form Him to be in my mind).

In this account Jesus is invited on the Sabbath into the house of one of the Pharisee leaders (I’m not told which one).  The meal is punctuated by four elements: 1) The Pharisees test Jesus and they fail, 2) Jesus corrects the guests, 3) Jesus corrects the host, 4) Jesus insinuates they will not go to heaven (a cornerstone of the Pharisee life).  I want to look at each element separately rather than write an entry that would take an hour to read.

In this element where the Pharisees test Jesus I’m given the setting for all four.  It is the Sabbath, Jesus is a guest at the house of one of the leaders of the Pharisees, and everyone is watching Him closely. Clearly Jesus is not a guest so the Pharisee leader can play the gracious host.  The Pharisees feel confident by isolating Jesus from His popular following, and have stacked the deck against Jesus.    The reason for this becomes evident when the man with edema is found before Him.  The whole invitation is a trap, and a sick suffering human is used as bait.  So the Pharisees start out the whole episode demonstrating such callous regard for another human that their lack of compassion and inhospitality is shocking.

The irony is so rich I can almost touch or taste it.  “What do you want to do this Saturday?” “I don’t know what do you want to do?” “I know! Let’s trap the Almighty of Heavens Armies at lunch!” “Yeah! Let’s grab Old Joe with the swollen limbs and use him!”  “Hmm. What should I serve for lunch?”  They stacked the odds in their favor, or at least would have had Jesus been just some wandering Rabbi rather than the Son of God.  These Pharisees have no idea what they’re doing.  Fortunately for “Old Joe” they are trapping Joe’s Creator.  The listener’s ire at the Pharisee callousness is offset by the enjoyment of absurdity of the very idea.

In this account, the discussion is short.  Jesus’ opponents don’t debate with Him, He simply asks, “Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath or not?”  There may have been some dialogue left out of Luke’s account, but what Luke left in is sufficient to accomplish the effect.  No one answers Jesus.  He is surrounded by lawyers and Pharisee experts on just this subject.  These guys spent most of their hours of writing, contributing to the bulk of knowledge, on just this subject; what is legal on the Sabbath.  Yet no one answers.  They continue to stare, silently, waiting as the trap is sprung on their unsuspecting prey.

The trap springs, Jesus takes hold of “Old Swollen Joe”, heals him, and sends him away (to safety).  They have Him!  Except Jesus calmly turns to them and asks, “Which of you will have a son or ox fall into a well, and will not immediately pull him out on the Sabbath day?”  Blink.  Swallow.  What?  A son or ox in a well, do we help them on the Sabbath?  Well duh, oh wait…dang it.  The trap snaps shut on the lawyers and Pharisees.  The Pharisee leader now has his prey loose at his Sabbath meal.  That’s not what was supposed to happen.  Hmm, maybe we should eat now and get this over with.

I see in Jesus here a few things.  I see willingness to enter into the fray, the very den of His enemies.  I know He is God and has nothing to fear, but His disciples didn’t have the same confidence.  They may have been observers, like “Old Joe”, but they had to be in panic as they saw the trap snapping shut.  I’m not God, yet the Spirit of my Master lives within me.  Why can’t I have this same courage to enter the fray, even the den of my enemies?  Often I fear my brothers and sisters in faith, and have less fear of my enemies.  Why fear at all?

Jesus addresses an important perspective here.  It’s one that reveals to me the heart of my Master.  People are more important to Him than silly rules.  Not that the Sabbath is silly, but using it as a bludgeon for the very people it was designed to bless is really silly.  But do I do this with other rules?  Jesus says in another encounter that the Sabbath was made for people, not people for the Sabbath (). Is this true for other rules?  That question is one of the things I hope to address in my other blog, but I raise the question here because Jesus does.  When do I let rules overrule my mercy?

I would say that in my home this is most common, which is a sad irony rather than this humorous one.  In training up my daughter, I am more often shocked and appalled at her lack of obedience to my rules than I am compassionate to her struggles at school.  Do I expect her to “measure up” before I show her compassion?  I can see that my Master expects something different from me.  The character of my Master is to accept before correction.  There is correction, but there is the environment of acceptance that it happens within.  That’s what I need to create at home.  Okay, this is getting uncomfortable, it may be time to move on.