As far back as I can remember I’ve taken Jesus’ statements about how to pick a seat at the banquet literally. Early on, I suppose, it made sense from a standpoint of humility. Don’t try and be more important than you are. Don’t sit next to the birthday boy or girl unless you were invited to do so. Yet even as I got older I held onto this nugget of wisdom because it seemed pragmatic, which fit my nature. It hurts to be told you’re sitting in the wrong seat, at least when you’re being bumped back a row or two. Therefore, don’t do it. Wait to be invited to sit in the front row.
But I’ve always known that Jesus’ words have a loophole, an open door to false humility. This bit of advice provided me with a way to feel good about myself while seeming so quiet and uninterested in status. Because, while being demoted from the high seat is humiliating, getting promoted from the cheap seats is cause for awe. And to do so when it seems everyone except you knows that you belong in those seats up front…well, that makes you seem even more humble.
I’ve thought about these verses in this way for years. In all this time I’ve never once looked beyond the simple meaning of this teaching. For all these years, I’ve always thought that it was about me. At least, I did until this week.
Following this teaching about choosing a chair, Jesus offers up a suggestion on the guest list. Instead of inviting people who will (and can) do something for you in return, why not invite people who won’t be able to repay you. Why not send an invitation to people who, no matter how many times you put them at the head of the table, will never be able to do the same for you, at least not at any table worth talking about.
This statement about who to include on the guest list, I believe, points beyond what I’ve often taken as the meaning of the preceding verses. It shows that this secret means of making myself look good and Christian that I’ve winked at is not just slimy but completely misses the point. It means that what Jesus is talking about has absolutely nothing to do with me.
They do not have any way to repay you, Jesus says. Luke defines they as the lame, poor, blind and so on, which are a part of they. But we cannot get bogged down there. They are anyone who can’t do a thing for us. They are anyone whom we will garner no fanfare or favors or prestige for exalting if we lift them up. They are the subject of this speech, not me.
Jesus, I’ve come to realize, isn’t at all interested in what seat I sit in when I’m the guest. His concern is where I seat others, especially when no one on earth cares where they sit.
God, help me to remember that it isn’t about me.
This was awesome. Thank you.
Jill