Buzzfeed, an online media company known for its quizzes, lists, and videos, one created a list of awkward social situations, each with its own awkward score. Here’s some of the list
- A person wearing the same clothes as you at a party – 45% awkward
- A person traps you for a chat that you don’t want to have – 66% awkward
- Attempting a handshake, hug, or kiss, and having the other person choose something different – 86% awkward
- Saying goodbye and then leaving in the same direction – 53% awkward
- Having to introduce someone when you can’t remember their name – 97% awkward.
I have a feeling that many of us can relate to situations like this. There is nothing more cringe worthy than being caught in any awkward situation. It’s the kind of thing that plays over and over in our mind during the deepest part of the night….
Well, worry not because Jesus is about to up the social awkwardness game. Our reading from Luke 14 is about Jesus having dinner at high Pharisee’s house on the Sabbath. We know that the tension will already be high around the table, because, well, the pharisees are still on high alert for any mistakes or missteps Jesus may make. Ever been at a dinner where you know every eye is on you watching your every move? Knowing this, Jesus isn’t afraid to stir the pot a little…
Before dinner even starts a man with edema, the accumulation of excess fluids in the body, comes to find Jesus. And there, with dinner waiting, Jesus heals the man and sends him on his way. ON.THE.SABBATH. Bold choice, Jesus, as this has rankled the pharisees before. And awkward as all get out because it just starts a whole cascade of awkward and uncomfortable moments for those sitting around the table. There’s no small talk, just a lecture about humility, questioning about seating arrangements, and a call to re-evaluate the invite list for the host.
I mean, it’s not exactly a “thank you for having me” kinda of conversation. But we should probably expect that Jesus wasn’t there to have conversation about the weather or the latest temple study group. He wasn’t interested in being polite. He was going to teach about God’s kingdom and dream for creation. And truth be told, sometimes the truth of God’s kingdom feels awkward and uncomfortable.
So, the healing moment was just the start for Jesus. Soon after, Jesus mentioned something that he noticed at the very beginning of supper, when everyone was finding their seats. He noticed that everyone was watching each other to see what seats they picked (no name cards provided at this dinner). You see, culturally speaking, the closer you sat to the host, the more important you are. Social status and power was measured in chairs. Jesus watches the scramble for chairs, for the best seats at the table and reflects on it by telling the guests a story: “when you’re invited to a wedding banquet, don’t rush for the place of honour. Take the lowest seat instead. Give the host the opportunity to offer you “better” seat rather than assuming it.” Awkward for those who just claimed the best seats.
Jesus is making a subtle point though: God doesn’t function in humanmade hierarchies and social ladders. Jesus is pointing the guests and those of us reading to the reality that honour and shame, insider and outsider, categories like that don’t hold in the presence of Jesus. The lowly are to be lifted up. The proud are to be humbled. It’s an awkward reversal, but it also good news.
And Jesus keeps going, turning his attention to the host of the dinner… “when you give a luncheon or a dinner, don’t invite your friends and your rich neighbours. They’ll invite you back, and you’ll be repaid. Instead invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind.” Well, now Jesus, that isn’t how things are done… Hospitality is about reciprocity. Hosts invited the people who could advance their status, who could return the favour, who could make you important.
Jesus knows this, and yet, he also knows that God’s hospitality looks radically different. It’s not transactional. It’s not dependant on anything. It’s generous, and abundant, and wide open, not just for the best and the most powerful. In fact the invitations go to them last. This radical thought of pulling in those who are so often left out, who come just as they are, is deeply uncomfortable, awkward even. And that is exactly the point.
The tension around the table is growing, and dinner is now where done. Silence looms, all chit chat stopped as if waiting to see what the next thing out of Jesus’ mouth might be. One guest, hoping to break the tension bursts out with “blessed Is the one who will eat in the kingdom of God!” Maybe he even quickly added “please pass the salt.” I can’t imagine why this is what he decided to say, but maybe he thought it would smooth things over – turn everyone’s away from the here and now and to some future banquet where everything made sense.
Except Jesus doubles down with a parable. A man throws a banquet, sending out invitations to all the powerful and important people. It was going to be a great meal. When the time comes, after hours of planning and preparation, all the invited guests make their excuses – they’re too busy, too distracted, too comfy to leave the house. No one is coming and everything is prepared. So the host sends his servants out into the streets to bring in the poor and the broken. When everyone is seated, he notices there is still room at the table, so sends out the servants again, even further this time, to find more people. They bring in people from the highway, the hedges, from the village core, compelling anyone and everyone to come in. It was a cacophony of humanity at the table, most with no ability to repay the hosts hospitality, and it was joyous.
That there is God’s banquet. Messy, diverse, overflowing with guests no one expected, with no expectation of anything in return. It was about the people not the status. And it is beyond awkward for those sitting with Jesus because he is calling them out. He is questioning their motives, their faith, their perceptions of the world. Jesus is calling the pharisees and us to the understanding that God’s table will and should include the people we wouldn’t naturally sit beside. It includes the people who stretch our patience, who unsettle our assumptions, who push our comfort zones, who remind us that God’s love isn’t just for us, but for the whole world
While Jesus is definitely pushing buttons for the Pharisees, he is also giving us a lot to think about. How do we decide who to sit next to or who to invite to the table? If Jesus’ table is awkward and inclusive, what about ours? Think about our picnic table out in the yard, how do we make it inclusive?
It’s really tempting to invite the easy to love, the ones who think like we do, the ones that make us feel comfortable. And there are moments, where that is okay. I get it. Sometimes we just want to gather the ones we know best and surround ourselves in their love. But Jesus keeps pushing us to think beyond that. Pushing us further – into the streets, out to the margins, to the places where people doubt they belong.
Last week I gave you some questions to ponder. No I am not going to ask you to share your thoughts aloud… they are for you to simply think about them. I have a couple more questions for you to ponder this week as you go about your living….
- Who still wonders if there is truly a place for them in our communities of faith?
- How do we make sure our table reflects God’s awkward, inclusive banquet, and not just our own preferences?
Jesus in all his awkwardness, is calling us in all our awkwardness, to be the banquet table where everyone belongs, where grace isn’t neat or easy, but is abundant and real.
The last parable Jesus tells ends with the dinner host saying, “there is still room.” And that, my friends, is the heart of the gospel. It’s the heart of all of these stories about Jesus sharing meals with others. There is still room. No matter how wide we think Gods love is – its wider. No matter how many we think are at the table – there’s still more coming. No matter how full we think the table is – there is still room.
Awkward? Likely
Good news? 100%
I said it two weeks ago, I said it last week, there is a place for each of us at the table. At God’s awkward banquet table there is space for you, for me, and for all of God’s people we haven’t thought to invite yet.
The table is set. The feast is ready. The invitations are out there.
There is still room.
Thanks be to God. Amen.
