These days, I find reading the Scriptures to be both very troubling and, at the same time, very reassuring.
As I read and re-read today’s Gospel, I kept picturing all those people who have been told to leave the head table and take seats in the back – or leave the room entirely. Women, people of color, anyone born in a foreign country, and many others have been put in their place.
And it’s not just people. Character and virtues have been wiped off the table: fairness, compassion, kindness, and – perhaps most frightening – any use of knowledge or learning. The tables have been turned, and now cruelty revenge, and violence are exalted.
Please forgive me if I’m over-exaggerated or if I’ve taken us to too dark a place. But I suspect many of us are anxious and worried – for ourselves but even more so for others with fewer resources and protections. And for our children and grandchildren whose future now seems so bleak.
On top of this, many of us struggle with our own health – or the health of friends and loved ones. And while St. Alban’s is thriving right now, some of us wonder what our future as a congregation holds.
Yet, here we are today, and we have just heard from Luke’s Gospel, which should be capitalized as GOOD NEWS.
On the last day of summer, we’re a little over halfway through our reading of Luke’s Gospel, the longest of the four we have. Our reading today includes three themes we’ve heard many times: those frustrating Pharisees, the lowly and the powerful, and squabbles about the Sabbath.
In the second half of today’s reading, we hear an echo of what Mary proclaimed in her song way back in Luke Chapter 2: “the hungry are filled with good things, the rich will be sent empty away.” In Luke, Jesus begins his ministry by quoting the prophet Isaiah: “Prisoners will be set free, the blind shall see, and the last will be first.”
These stories and words invite us to be more than observers, more than literary critics. As Jesus says, “Blessed are those who hear the word of God and do it.”
Luke’s extended parable of the Sower – or rather the parable of the good soil – is the framework for understanding the entire gospel. In chapter 8, we read, “As for the seed in the good soil, these are the ones who, when they hear the word, hold it fast … bear fruit with patient endurance.”
A few verses later, Jesus says, “My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and do it.”
Easier said than done. What are we to hear? And where will we get the strength and courage to do it – whatever “it” is?
In figuring that out, we should probably start with the Pharisees. One scholar has quipped that we knew more about the Pharisees 50 years ago than we do today.
We do know that during the time Jesus lived and preached in Galilee and Judea, the Pharisees were the good guys. The Pharisees were lay people dedicated to the Torah – translated more accurately as the Way rather than the Law. They were devoted to finding ways to live out God’s mercy and compassion.
Written a generation after Jesus lived, the audience for Luke’s Gospel was a non-Jewish Christian community away from Galilee and Judea. Luke sought to explain why a Jew from Galilee had inspired a fast-spreading religious movement. By Luke’s time, for reasons we’re not entirely sure about, the Pharisees had a stand-in for those religious leaders who both opposed and helped Jesus.
The Pharisees also represented those in Luke’s own community who were in danger of taking the first seat at the banquet, of finding fault and excluding those who didn’t share their wealth and power.
Complicating today’s story even more is that the makers of lectionary – in their tireless pursuit to give preachers something to complain about – have omitted the five verses about the healing of the man with dropsy or what we know as edema.So, today’s fracas with the Pharisees is not just about social standing, but also about expressing compassion and caring for those in need.
The healing of this man on the Sabbath is perfect example of how exasperating Jesus can be. The Pharisees were all for rescuing a child or even an ox on the Sabbath. But edema is far from a life-threatening disease. Jesus could easily have honored the Sabbath and healed the man the following day.
But no, Jesus has to make this all about turning things upside, upsetting good order, and extolling humility. If you really want to save lives, then relieving any kind of suffering right now is what God intends.
What Jesus goes on to agitate about who should be invited to a banquet would have been even more unsettling to Luke’s audience. The client-patron culture was an essential foundation for Greco-Roman culture of Luke’s educated audience. Those who were wealthy and powerful – the patrons – were expected to care for the poor and needy – the clients – who then obligated to the patron. This social structure was in everyone’s best interest.
Formal banquets were a way to maintain this system. The patron had equals, those were “friends.” Those were the ones who were invited to join him at banquets – and who invited him to their banquets. Here the patrons saw and mingled with the clients whom they looked after.
But Jesus announces that this orderly and seemingly fair system isn’t good enough. God intends for everyone to be “a friend,” for everyone to sit at the same table, to share in the same largess. For sinners to be forgiven and welcomed.
The bigger surprise – the scandal – is that for this to happen Jesus becomes the one who is humbled. Jesus suffers death and is buried. Jesus takes the lowest place. He becomes the last one for us.
Toward the very end of Luke’s Gospel, we will join the disciples on the road to Emmaus as they mourn Jesus’ death. As we take this journey, the Risen Christ helps us discover what the Word of God is: the heart of the Scriptures is that Jesus must suffer and die and be raised.
That’s the word we hear and obey. That is the word that invites and enables us to take up the cross and follow Jesus.
As follow Jesus and become part of his story, we are given the faith to trust the promise that God will humble the rich and powerful. And we trust, too, that God will feed the hungry and clothe the naked and heal the sick.
That is what is happening right now because we know our place – next to Jesus who took the lowest place. And because we sit next to Jesus, we can’t help but make sure there is room at the table for everyone. Amen.
