Hebrews 13.1-8, 15-16; Luke 14.1, 7-14 - Catherine Gibson
Parables about Dinner Parties
Jesus was continually travelling about the country, of course; and wherever he went, he was liable to be invited to dinner. Although some of these invitations came from personal friends, like Martha, Mary and Lazarus, many were from strangers: and not all invitations came from motives of kindness and hospitality. He was the celebrity guest, and naturally the focus of everyone’s attention; but sometimes his hosts were Pharisees and other religious leaders who suspected him of having subversive views, and wanted to take a closer look. At all events, just like our celebrities today – our politicians and eminent figures in Church or State – he was constantly under observation, and any slip or controversial remark or deed would be eagerly pounced upon and used against him.
But if Jesus was being watched, he was observing, too. The comments he makes sound like advice on social etiquette: but that’s not really Jesus’ concern. Luke tells us that it is a parable: and parables about banquets are usually about life in God’s Kingdom, which was traditionally described as a heavenly banquet.
One of the chief criticisms of Jesus’ behaviour and teaching was that he mixed freely with all sorts of people whom the “pious” regarded as disreputable and “unclean”, and seemed to be saying that many of them had as good a right to enter the Kingdom as those who kept the Law scrupulously or held high religious office. In warning against assuming they are entitled to seats of honour at the table, Jesus is implicitly reminding us not to depend on the advantages and opportunities our station in life may have given us, but to leave room for the workings of God’s Grace. The Pharisees and Scribes could only afford the time and money needed to study deeply and keep the minutiae of the Law because of the privileged circumstances of their birth and upbringing. Ordinary working people could not aspire to such luxuries. At the time Luke was writing his Gospel, many Gentiles were becoming Christians, and they were not always welcomed by Jewish Christians, who felt that they ought to keep the Jewish Law as well. They were sometimes treated as second-class citizens.
The author of the Letter to the Hebrews is concerned for the harmony of the Christian Community. Although he is writing primarily to Christian converts from Judaism, there would be Gentile Christians among them. He stresses the importance of the church family, giving plenty of practical advice. Urging hospitality to all, he reminds them that “some have entertained angels unawares”. He’s referring to the episode in Genesis, where Abraham is visited by three strangers (or is there only one? – the pronouns keep shifting between singular and plural). They (or he) are found to be a manifestation of God himself.
Similarly, we are commanded by Jesus to see him in everyone, even the most unlikely. This is part of the meaning of his parable of The Sheep and the Goats.
I’m reminded of a wonderful true story told by the Revd. Paul Walker in a sermon preached at Durham Cathedral at the final of the 1997 Preacher of the Year award. I suspect this incident also inspired an episode of the TV series, Rev.
“I was at college on the south coast, training to be a priest. . .This particular day I was stuck at Victoria Station. I was going to be late due to trains on the line or something, so I prepared for a long wait. I refuse to buy drinks at those bars on stations which charge £5 for a pint of lemonade, so I went across to an off-licence and bought myself a can of beer, came back and went to sit down, opened it and lit a cigarette. . . Then this bloke came in. You know the type you see at London stations. He was dirty and smelly, looking around in bins and talking to people. I just had that sinking feeling I knew he was going to collar me. I looked away, avoided his eyes, developed a strong fascination with graffiti and prayed I would avoid him.
But sure enough he walked straight up to me and spoke. . . ‘Got a ciggie?’ he asked. ‘Sure,’ I said, hoping that would see him off. ‘Can I have a swig of your beer?’ Well, normally I’d have said no, but I was a bit frightened. Anyway, a conversation followed that went something like this:
‘What do you do then?’
‘I’m a student.’
‘Student of what?’
‘I, I’m training to be a priest.’
‘Do you pray?’
Not quite what I’d expected, but yes I assured him I did.
‘Really pray, I mean pray all the time?’
This was weird, but ‘Yeees,’ I lied.
‘Look at this,’ he said, then out of his pocket he pulled a very old broken set of rosary beads.
‘I use these all the time,’ he said. ‘You’ll never achieve anything unless you pray.’
‘No, I realise that,’ I said.
The conversation went on a while. It was all about prayer. Then at the end he reminded me that God is only with us if we let him be. Then he looked me in the eyes, and thanked me for the ciggie and the beer and said: ‘Paul’ (and I could swear I’d never told him my name), ‘you never know who you’ve been talking to.’
And with that, he went his way.”