Scripture: Luke 14:1, 7-14
Pastor: Rev. Kim P. Wells
A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law, and a four-year old grandson. The old man’s hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered. The family ate together nightly at the dinner table. But the elderly grandfather’s shaky hands and failing sight made eating rather difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor. When he grasped the glass often milk spilled on the tablecloth. The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess. “We must do something about grandfather,” said the son. “I’ve had enough of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor.” So the husband and wife set a small table in the corner. There, grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner at the dinner table. Since grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was served in a wooden bowl. Sometimes when the family glanced in grandfather’s direction, he had a tear in his eye as he ate alone. Still, the only words the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled food. The four-year-old watched it all in silence.
One evening before supper, the father noticed his son playing with wood scraps on the floor. He asked the child sweetly, “What are you making?”
Just as sweetly, the boy responded, “Oh, I am making a little bowl for you and mama to eat your food from when I grow up.” The four-year-old smiled and went back to work. The words so struck the parents that they were speechless. Then tears started to stream down their cheeks.
Though no word was spoken, both knew what must be done. That evening the husband took grandfather’s hand and gently led him back to the family table.
For the remainder of his days he ate every meal with the family. And for some reason, neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was dropped, milk spilled, or the tablecloth was soiled.
Where is our place at the table? Do we expect a place of honor? Do we expect to be served? Do we expect to be given the choicest portions? Do we expect to be on the guest list of those who are powerful and prominent? Do we expect to be doing the serving? Do we expect to eat in the kitchen? Do we expect to come in the back door? Do we expect to eat the leftovers?
In our society and context, we pretty much function from the perspective that you get what you deserve. If you are hardworking, industrious, and patient, you can make your way up in the world. The Horatio Alger story pervades our cultural mindset, even for those who don’t know the actual story. Horatio Alger was a 19th century author who wrote stories of young boys who rose from impoverished circumstances to the security of the middle class through not only hard work and industriousness, but through some act of heroism, bravery, or honesty that drew the eye of someone well-to-do who then helped the young lad. But the enduring cultural image is of young people proceeding from rags to riches through determination. And that narrative holds solid in our culture today. Work hard. Apply yourself. And you can achieve financial and social stability in the solid middle class.
The backside of this narrative which dominates the ethos of our culture is that if you are not achieving solid, middle class or upper middle class security, it is because you are not sufficiently determined and industrious. You are not working hard enough. You are not trying. You are not exerting yourself. Because if you do, anyone can succeed. That’s the story that forms and shapes our mindset. That’s the myth.
Power is invested in those who merit it. And this is achieved not only through education, but through successful experience, which translates, in our setting, into wealth. So, power goes with wealth. If you are wealthy, you have succeeded. So, you merit having power. Forget about the fact that people often get rich through taking advantage of others or unethical means. But, we accept that wealth deserves power. Money talks. And certain people have access to the systems, formal and informal, which legitimate this kind of power, which put you at the Big Table.
Beside Horatio Alger, we set the cultural narrative that America is blessed and special. Our forebears talked about “the city on the hill” and “Manifest Destiny” that America would reach from coast to coast. American culture drew on the language of “the chosen people” from the Hebrew scriptures to describe its special place in the world. We have this amazing land, this incredible abundance because our way of life, our faith, is favored by God.
Today this comes out as American “exceptionalism.” We are exceptional because we have a certain form of governance [dysfunctional?], we have certain values and commitments that define us [self interest?], that we uphold, whatever the cost.
This is another myth that we use to form and shape ourselves as a culture. It, too, has a backside. To be exceptional does not just mean different. It means better, superior, entitled, right. We went through dethroning “separate but equal” in civil rights; we should know better in international affairs. Exceptional means we are at the Big Table and some are consigned to a wooden bowl at the table in the corner.
This kind of separation, in whatever form it takes, is a cause of the dramatic symptomatic violence that is engulfing us. From armed conflict and war, drones and Guantanamo, drug gangs, mass shootings, to random acts of violence, killings out of fear or anger, domestic violence, all are in part symptomatic of people feeling less than, disempowered, disrespected, and sidelined. Many feel they are consigned to the table in the corner while others feast at the table of power, privilege, and social acceptability. And this generates resentment, hostility, and rage.
And we bring the mindset of meritocracy and exceptionalism to our religious lives. So in religious terms this translates into those who are blessed, valued, worthy, and righteous, are those who have achieved: Achieved wealth, that is. Achieved certain social status. Are of the right religion favored and privileged by God, i.e. Christianity. So they deserve honor and respect and deference. A place at the Big Table. Others are consigned, by God, in this kind of religious thinking, to the little table in the corner.
This is what Jesus is addressing in his teachings to the religious leaders of his day. He’s dealing with meritocracy. He is dealing with exceptionalism. Certain people are in and others are “out.” And what is the basis of that kind of thinking? You get what you deserve. And if you work for it, you get something better. Invite the right people to dinner, brownnose the right sort, flatter the right people, and your star rises. Status feeds on status. You can get yourself on top, not just with the right people, but with God. What this amounts to is not only “playing God” but thwarting God. Who are these people to decide who sits in the corner?
Jesus rejects that whole scenario. In the story we heard this morning, the religious status seekers are told to take the lowest place at the table and to give dinner parties for the dregs of society. I am sure that raised more than a few eyebrows. Where would that get you? How would that help your prospects?
Yet from Jesus’ perspective, we see the situation from a divine view point. What have these people done to earn anything from God?
Several years ago, in responding to the challenge that rich corporations deserved their profits for their economic success and should not have to pay higher taxes, Elizabeth Warren, now a senator from Massachusetts, reminded us that those corporations benefitted from roads that were provided for them by the government. From an educated workforce provided by the government. From political stability provided by the government. [That was a few years ago, before the current political meltdown. . .] The corporations benefitted from public safety provided by the government. Flushing toilets, sanitation, and potable water all provided by the government. These corporations were not being asked for a handout, they were being asked to support the infrastructure from which they benefit and which makes them able to do business.
So we are reminded that any “success” we enjoy is not solely of our own making. We are beneficiaries of what God has provided for us. So who are we to lord it over others? Who are we to expect to be honored for what we have achieved when it has all been made possible by God? God has provided the earth, its resources, its beauty, and the gift of life for the benefit of all, not just some. In God’s eyes, all are equal. And those who are most in need are to be served by others as God’s beloved.
God does not provide for us because of our education, our breeding, our class or income. God does not provide for us based on what we do, what we have, our abilities, our performance, or our appearance. God’s giving is not contingent on merit or achievement. There is no getting in good with God. No winning God’s favor. God’s giving and generosity simply spring from God’s love for all of creation. For all of life. For all people.
God is love and so God provides for all. Even those, especially those, who are forgotten or sidelined by society. The poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind, the story we heard this morning tells us. We could add the unemployed, the homeless, the refugee, the uninsured, the elderly, the child, the homeless. All those deemed of little value to the world are of incalculable value to God.
And so the table is set. The feast is prepared. The platters are piled high. And all are invited. At God’s table there is no first world and third world. No eastern and western, northern and southern divide. There is no division between dark skin and lighter skin. No government issued ids to be presented. And absolutely no one is consigned to the corner. Everyone is at Big Table. Seated with those who are different. And in the common experience, in the sharing, there is increased mutual understanding, compassion is nourished, empathy grows, problem solving emerges. Community among diversity develops.
There is one table. One God who provides for all. One host. One abundant feast. One world as God intends for it to be. And we are all the guests. Our table is waiting. Amen.
Lakewood United Church of Christ 