Oak Chapel United Methodist Church

All Sermons are © Copyrighted and may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, without the express permission of the author.

Now and then, when I am reading the New Testament, it hits home. It strikes me "like a bolt from the blue" (as they say), as if I had never before realized it: how radical were the teachings of Jesus, and what a terrible threat they posed (and still do pose) to the power establishmentalso how radical were the changes Jesus required (and still requires) in his disciples. Whenever that happens, and the truth of it all hits me, the Sunday School Jesus, the pastel Jesus, the Jesus-with-the-children Jesus disappear. And I understand his enemies (picturing myself among them), and I know they had to kill him, they had no choice. That trumped-up charge of inciting a riot in Jerusalem was only a convenient excuse to crucify him. It was his teachings that did him in. His foes, at least the smart ones, realized from the very beginning, way back there in Galilee, that if his words should ever catch on, they would be dog meat.

No better example than these two related teachings (which I just read) in the fourteenth Chapter of Luke's Gospel, about where one should sit at a dinner party and who one should invite The words seem innocuous at first. Not much more than good advice. To the guests at the party he said, "Don't embarrass yourself by choosing a seat too high. Don't make the host put you down. Force him to raise you up - and all will see, and applaud." Good advice, Jesus. Nobody likes to be humiliated. And to the host, "When you throw a party, don't invite only friends, and family, and rich folk. Invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind." Nice thought, Jesus! We should get around to that someday. (These people have fleas! We can't have them in our homes; they'd rob us blind!)

But there are deeper levels in these teachings. There is revolution in them. There is eternity in them. As he watched the dinner guests maneuvering for places of honor at the table, he thought of his Father's Kingdom, where rank and status don't matter. Actually, where he who takes the lowest seat, is exalted - is called forward in the judgement and invited to sit by God. And where those who have occupied the honored places in life, will find themselves far down the table. "The last shall be first, and the first last," the early Christians chuckled. There will be a reversal of fortunes when the Kingdom comes. Vintage Jesus. And this is what's important now (This is the revolution): that the values prevailing in God's Kingdom (like equality in the Father's love) should be reflected here on earth, in the church (the community of believers), and in our lives.

But, of course, that is usually not so. We have places at our tables. We have titles, and distinctions, and degrees. Our relationships tend to be over-under. That leads to divisions among peoples and factions in the church. What Jesus is proposing is a radical idea: that in him we are freed from the necessity to succeed, to rank others. We don't have to play the world's game by the world's rules. True security is not found in position and title, but in the grace of God, which "is sufficient" for us -- as it is for the birds of the air and the flowers of the field. That is an earthquake in human thought. Stop trying to get ahead. Relax. Trust God and accept his care. Wow!

And here is another earthquake: to the host, "Next time invite the poor, the lame, the blind. That's what God does - that's the way it is in the kingdom. God is truly inclusive, has no favorites." And I, personally, thank God for that! That's how I manage to get in. I can't speak for you, but I know I have no right to be at God's party, no right to an invitation. I am poor (poor in my love of God and neighbor, poor in my understanding of scripture, poor in prayer). I am crippled and lame (lame trying to walk in the ways of Jesus, lame in my excuses). I am blind (blind to God's will and to my neighbor's need). I can't repay God for this party he's prepared. I'm here because he was gracious enough to invite me, in Christ. And the values that prevail in the Kingdom (inviting even the unlovely, even those who can't pay, to the feast) must be reflected in the church, and in our lives.

You can bet that anytime a New Testament writer talks about a table, at some level he is thinking of communion. The sacrament of Holy Communion, the Eucharist, exists on the cusp between heaven and earth. It is worldly in its nature (real bread and real wine), yet it reflects the values of God's Kingdom. We come to this table not in any order of rank or preference. No one needs to jockey for position. No person at this table is more honored than any other. Such equality does not exist elsewhere. And we all come together: poor, crippled, lame, blind. Knowing our disabilities. We come to declare, once again, our trust in the grace of God. We come and drink a toast to our exiled king, who is away for a while, but who will return in triumph, turning the tables, and making heaven's values ours.