28 August 2016. St Michael and All Angels, Little Ilford
Trinity
14 (Year C)
Luke
14.1, 7-14
I
don't very often give practical advice in sermons. That's deliberate.
I tend to think it is often for each of us to work out for ourselves
the practical consequences of Christian teaching. But, here I go. Can
we do this...? Can we do our best to invite and bring to church, on
at least one Sunday between now and the end of the year, someone who
does not normally go to church or another house of prayer?
This
isn't a novel idea, of course. There's a whole 'Back to Church
Sunday' theme out there. This year's 'Back to Church Sunday' may be
on 18 September - though interestingly, it wasn't easy to track down
on the internet. But, whenever we do it, let us try to bring to
church one friend, colleague or acquaintance who hasn't been to
church for some time, if at all.
I'm
suggesting this for two reasons. First, we might hope that it will be
a good thing for them. They will realise that we Christians are not
all weird – or, more realistically, no weirder than anybody else.
They may, Gd willing, get a sense of what we are about, which, in
case there is any doubt, is the love of Gd,
- our intimations that Gd loves each of us,
- in all our mess,
- and them in all of theirs,
- more than we/they could ever yearn for,
- more than we/they could ever imagine.
But
also for a second reason. Those of us who do come to church a lot can
learn from the questions of those who don't. You know:
- Why do you do that?
- What does that mean?
And
especially...
- What on earth is going on in that Bible reading?
I'll
say it again: those of us who do come to church a lot can easily let
the Bible readings wash over us. For what it is worth, I don't think
that's laziness, really. I think we sense that there are such
difficult things in the biblical texts, and we feel we cannot 'do
justice' to them. We feel, as they say, 'under-resourced'. That is a
shame. But it is also a call to do this: with or without our
non-churchy friend next to us, let us hear Bible readings as if for
the first time. Let us turn our attention to Bible readings -
- expecting not some gentle waves to wash over us,
- but rather that we are entering a minefield,
- and mines may go off at any minute.
For,
sisters and brothers, that is, in truth, what the Bible is like. It
is like a minefield, and the mines may go off at any moment. What do
I mean? Well, you'll have guessed I am suggesting there is an example
of an explosive in today's readings, in particular in today's gospel.
It's
a gospel passage of two halves. Jesus is dining in a Pharisee's
house. The Pharisees, I'll remind you in passing, are the Jewish
group probably closest to Jesus and his disciples (but that's for
another sermon). Jesus gives some advice to the company.
I
paraphrase: When you're invited to someone's home, think of yourself
as the least important person in the room. Then, if your host wants
to honour you, giving you a special place, or cup, or whatever, then
that will be a real honour. Whereas if you presume you are the
special one, and your host then treats someone else as more special,
you'll feel humiliated, and probably look humiliated to others.
This
we can, I guess, all get. It is good, practical advice. It makes
sense, because it is commonsense. It is a reminder about manners.
Manners work; they 'oil the wheels' of all our interactions. We'd be
lost without them. Every culture throughout time says as much. Not
least Jewish culture. And so we have already in Proverbs [25.6f],
before Jesus:
Do
not put yourself forward in the king's presence
or
stand in the place of the great;
for
it is better to be told, 'Come up here,'
than
to be put lower in the presence of a noble.
So
far, so calm. Jesus expands on the point: in any circumstance, it is
good to be humble, not exalted. Still calm. No explosions here.
But
then! Then Jesus says... what? He says (my version again):
When
you're having a party, don't invite family, friends, or neighbours or
others you want to impress. Invite people who are poor, or very ill,
or can't get around easily, or who are considered a problem or
failures in some way. Invite them, precisely because you know they
cannot repay you in any obvious way. That way, you'll get a different
sort of repayment.
Now...
Do you get it? Do you see how that is a mine going off before your
eyes and ears. No commonsense here! Commonsense says you hold a party
in order to bring friends together, and/or to impress people.
Commonsense says you don't invite people you don't know, may not get
on with, and are considered problem people, Commonsense says that's a
recipe for disaster. If word gets around that you hold those kinds of
parties, things can only get worse for you,- says commonsense.
Yet
this is what Jesus calls us to do.
It's
also something his disciples have said, through the centuries. Let me
quote one contemporary writer (he just died in 1996). He was a
European. He was a Henri-spelled-with-an-i-not-a-y. As such people
often thought he was French, and so pronounced his name [French
pronunciation] Henri Nouwen. But in fact he was Dutch. So his name
looked like it was [English pronunciation] Henri Nouwen, and in Dutch
was pronounced [same] Henri Nouwen. It's a long quotation I want to
share. Here goes.
My
whole life I have been surrounded by well-meaning encouragement to go
'higher up,' and the most-used argument was: 'You can do so much good
there, for so many people.' But these voices calling me to upward
mobility are completely absent from the Gospel. Jesus says: 'Anyone
who loves his life loses it; anyone who hates his life in this world
will keep it for eternal life' (John 12:25). He also says: 'Unless
you become like little children you will never enter the kingdom of
heaven' (Matt 18:3). Finally he says: 'You know that among the
gentiles the rulers lord it over them... this is not to happen...
anyone who wants to be first among you must be your slave...' (Matt
20:25-28).
This
[it is still Henri Nouwen
speaking] is the way of downward mobility,
the
descending way of Jesus. It is the way toward the poor, the
suffering, the marginal, the prisoners, the refugees, the lonely, the
hungry, the dying, the tortured, the homeless - toward all who ask
for compassion. What do they have to offer? Not success, popularity,
or power, but the joy and peace of the children of God.
(End
of quotation.)
So...
invite people you don't know and have no reason to like to your
parties, people who can do you no favours? And try your best to be,
throughout your life, downwardly mobile? Is this the gospel message?
If
it is, can we, after all, invite non-churchgoing friends to church?
Are we not embarrassed and discomforted by this message which is
about as far from commonsense as it is possible to be?
Maybe.
And of course, how we imagine another person reacting to these
commands is surely how a large part of us reacts. We too will be
thinking (in part): It's just not a serious message. It sounds good,
radical and challenging. Fine for a sermon, but not seriously for
living. We are not meant to actually do it. But... are we?
Well,
to cut a long story short, I think I can genuinely offer some
reassurance. I'd say Jesus here is speaking in prophetic mode. And
the prophets loved to see everything in black-and-white terms, to
exaggerate, to say: 'no x, all y' when they were really talking about
getting a balance in life. So in fact I do think we are allowed to
have parties where we invite our friends. I also think we are allowed
to be ambitious about our careers and so on; there's nothing
intrinsically sinful about having ambitions and in that way being
upwardly mobile.
But!
But we get it wrong if we allow ourselves to shake off Jesus' message
to his disciples then and now. This is saying that commonsense
(including about how to behave at parties, and about how to develop
your career) is just fine. But even more important is that we are
ready to put commonsense aside, even if it be just for a moment, for
one encounter
- when we help someone who cannot possibly help us back
- when we do so unseen, so that no one else is going to praise us
- when we do so uncomplainingly and eagerly
- when we do it even if the person we help is a thumping crook (because Jesus nowhere says we are only to help people in need who are also saints or well-behaved)
- when we do so purely and simply because we know that in such an encounter, Jesus is among us
- and (if we can here it) joy is among us too.
Amen.
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