Honour

Luke tells us that this is more than just helpful social commentary that Jesus is giving the guests at the dinner party; a few helpful tips on better party etiquette. In the competitive “you scratch my back I’ll scratch yours”, world of honour and status in ancient cultures, start low, advises Jesus. You might then get the surprise of your life when the host invites you higher up the honour chain. At your first Hollywood dinner party, don’t brag about how many Home and Away episodes you starred in, seeking to mix it with the other hot-shot celebrities, only to see Tom Hanks walk in! Jesus isn’t just saying that a little bit of humility and generosity go a long way to prevent total loss of face in a shame and honour culture. Luke tells us this is a parable. There is always something familiar and something that is jarring in a parable.

The familiar. In our contemporary world of professional expectations and media scrutiny, we too know the delicate cocktail that is ego and self-preservation, as we balance the reality of moral scrutiny and approval from one’s peers. The same existed for the public officials of Jesus’ day - the Pharisees with their followers, the various Rabbinic schools, the Governing class of Sadducees; all had prestige, reputations, intellectual credibility, righteousness and moral honour to maintain. They knew how to maintain “purity” ritualistically, culturally, and personally. And, as Luke says, they were “watching” Jesus. He too was under scrutiny. He was invited to the party, which was a vote of minimal respect. The Pharisees saw him as a genuine intellectual and teacher, but was he “one of them?” Could he be admitted to the golf club? (It had a 2-year waiting list). Did he quote the right texts, the right thinkers, the acknowledged authoritative interpretations? Did he understand the Torah, the Messianic hopes, the resurrection, the requirements of purity and salvation, correctly? They were the official gatekeepers of God’s system, of the truth about God. So, they were watching him.

The jarring. Jesus places a grenade on the table! He does this at the end of the parable, after the social etiquette part (don’t be too cocky about where you sit, for the host might “demote” you - “OMG I could have died of embarrassment!”), He proceeds to blow the whole thing sky high. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted. When this grammatical structure is used, known as the passive voice, the subject of the sentence is acted upon by another agent. But who is this other agent who does the ultimate demoting or advancing? Who ultimately decides who or what is truly honourable? It’s not the ones handing out ribbons to each other based on their own code of honour. The ultimate host, when the passive voice is used, means God. God finally arbitrates where truth and value, worth and honour, is truly evident in the history of our behaviours and choices. This is clarified when Jesus mentions his alternative value system. Why not invite to a dinner party those who cannot repay you, or who are outside your value system? The righteous are the ones who do that, and according to Jesus’ system, will be acknowledged on the day of resurrection (Judgement day) by none other than God. You see, it actually doesn’t depend on you Pharisees at all. This system you prize and preserve at all costs means absolutely nothing to God! I simply don’t recognise your system, says Jesus. That’s the grenade!

What if the person who is at the top in your system, is relegated to least worthy of honour in God’s system? And what if an absolute non-contender in your system, is welcomed home in God’s system? What if God’s view of righteousness and what deserves respect and praise and exalting clashes with your system? This is not a polite thing to say to your host who kindly invited you along to the dinner party, albeit to check you out, but also, potentially, to secure you a spot in the gold club. Jesus isn’t simply breaking a few rules of social etiquette. He rejects the game outright. (Later in Luke, Jesus tells us to take up his cross and follow him. We are to place no value in these games either).

The entire dinner party show is based on misplaced Pharisaic confidence that they know who the righteous and pure are, and what is required to be part of the elect or chosen ones of God. (And don’t all our systems, Presbyterian, Evangelical, Progressive, Liberal, tend to make similar claims with confidence). Jesus asserts that God is not a slave to our systems but is competent to judge who is truly pure of heart, and possesses a spirit worthy of honour, and is thus of his Kingdom. Anything else is a vain usurping of God’s domain despite using a lot of “God” language to defend it. God’s love and grace always empowers and transforms lives. What if our systems are actually thwarting God’s system? Otherwise, you wouldn’t even be hosting these self-interested dinner parties. You are all in an echo-chamber of mutual applause where you all know the rules, who is in or out, and you keep it that way. But what if God has a different set of rules? What if love is abundant and the invitations are endless, and the potentially included are millions of impure, immoral, lost, and ignorant Jews and Gentiles? How dare you decide for God. Whatever system we subscribe to, our job is simply to love the unloved, notice the un-noticed and invite the uninvited.

We best serve God by making our dinner parties generous. So go, Share your mercy. Share your forgiveness. Share your material resources. Share these things with those you see in need of them. Do it deliberately, sacrificially, generously…until that day…when the host will take care of the minor details about seating.

Bruce Fleming