Sunday Musings
Guess who's coming to dinner?
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TODAY IS THE TWELTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST
We continue to move through the readings from Luke’s gospel about the Kingdom. And guess who’s coming to dinner?
On this Sunday, Jesus offers up some straightforward advice about how to behave at meals!
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September 1 is the World Day of Prayer for Creation. It marks the beginning of a month-long celebration of the Season of Creation, a mini-season within the larger Season of Pentecost. The global theme for 2025 is “Peace with Creation,” inspired by Isaiah 32:14-18.
Luke 14:1, 7-14
On one occasion when Jesus was going to the house of a leader of the Pharisees to eat a meal on the sabbath, they were watching him closely.
When he noticed how the guests chose the places of honor, he told them a parable. “When you are invited by someone to a wedding banquet, do not sit down at the place of honor, in case someone more distinguished than you has been invited by your host; and the host who invited both of you may come and say to you, ‘Give this person your place,’ and then in disgrace you would start to take the lowest place. But when you are invited, go and sit down at the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he may say to you, ‘Friend, move up higher’ then you will be honored in the presence of all who sit at the table with you. For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”
He said also to the one who had invited him, “When you give a luncheon or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, in case they may invite you in return, and you would be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. And you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”
Whenever I read this passage, I think back to my engagement party at Christmas 1983. I’ve been married twice — the first time was back then. One of the engagement gifts I received was Miss Manners’ Guide to Excruciatingly Correct Behavior.
It wasn’t only the case that I was a bit of a protocol klutz. At the time, Judith Martin’s etiquette book was a massive bestseller. For a generation that grew up during the 1960s and 1970s, when all the old rules got thrown out, Miss Manners was a bit of a revelation. We had a lot to learn. Who knew there were actual guidelines for addressing people, writing thank you notes, organizing weddings, and planning baptism receptions? Hundreds of pages of how to conduct basic human relations and how to behave appropriately in social situations.
One such confounding social obligation was handling invitations, a subject that takes up an entire section of the book, with a special chapter on dinner parties.
And that, of course, brings us to today’s story in Luke — Jesus’ Guide to Dinner Parties — in which he offers advice to both guests and hosts at a meal.
Dinners, especially banquets, were incredibly important in the ancient world. Now, we might think of them as primarily celebrity affairs mostly for show — like a Hollywood wedding, the Met Ball, or a State Dinner. But, in the Roman Empire, dinners were part of the economic system known as patronage. The wealthy and privileged issued dinner invitations to those with lesser status in order to secure their loyalty or some financial benefit; the recipients of such invitations would be flattered to receive the protection of the host. A dinner invitation obligated the guest to repay the host — in whatever way the host would see fit. If you were a guest, having a meal with a patron bound you to that person until the debt was discharged.
In other words, there was a lot of political corruption around the table.
In addition to Roman rules of patronage, there would also be, as in the case of Jesus and the leader of the Pharisees, a host of religious expectations and rules about appropriate behavior, seating arrangements, cleanliness, and the preparation and serving of food.
In other words, dinners in Jesus’ day were subject — as were most social situations — to multiple sets of rules. The cultural and economic rules guiding the empire and the particular religious rules guiding each subgroup of Jews in Judea and Galilee.
It was maddeningly complex. And, truthfully, if you were a guest, it was easy to offend somebody. Indeed, you probably couldn’t avoid offending either your host or other guests. There’s no Miss Manners thorough enough to handle this mess.
And so, Jesus offers his own advice.
In the first section of the passage, Jesus instructs guests not to take the best seats at a banquet. It is pretty clear this is an elite affair — the leader of the Pharisees seems to be a well-off and cultured fellow. Most historians think that Jews didn’t originally recline at meals; rather, they adopted reclining as the customary practice from the Greco-Roman world.
This story takes that cultural appropriation for granted. Although in English, it looks as if the guests are sitting around a table, the Greek word, kataklinó, indicates that they were reclining — Roman style. The guests of the Pharisee leader are reclining — and have seats in order of social status (the Greek calls them the “preeminent” seats on the “dinner bed”).
Jesus warned the other guests not to scramble for this position. Not only is that rude, but you may have, perhaps unwittingly, taken seats not assigned to you. And, in correcting the situation, the host may be put in the awkward situation of having to move you in the middle of the party — thus shaming you in public. If you hang back, however, the host might reward you and invite you to a better seat in front of the entire group. And you’ll not be embarrassed! Rather, you’ll be honored at the table.
In the second directive, Jesus tells hosts not to trade on invitations. Don’t just invite people so that you might be invited back. Instead, you should open your table to those who cannot repay your hospitality. A place at your table shouldn’t depend on the status of the receiver; rather, serve and feed all those outside the usual system of social intercourse.
At first, it seems vaguely contradictory. In the instance of guests, it seems like Jesus tells them to give up their seats to honored guests. And, it also seems as if there’s a bit of social engineering going on. If you hold back, you might get called forward — and be the subject of public praise! It might be a little transactional. Humble yourself in order to get something — your own glory — in return.
But things quickly change with the second instruction. When speaking to the host, Jesus is completely clear. There’s no parable, no potential for misunderstanding. It is one of those startlingly direct Jesus-sayings: When you give a luncheon or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, in case they may invite you in return, and you would be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. And you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you….
There’s nothing transactional about it. This is Jesus’ absolute rule about anything that smacks of quid pro quo: Don’t do it. Do not invite people to dinner to get something from them. In a few words, Jesus theologically pulverized the Roman patronage system and reminded his host of the economics of the Kingdom — your job is to care for the outcast, the poor, the oppressed, the sick, and the hungry. That’s what will bless you. You won’t be blessed by complicity with the Roman way. God’s way is different. Remember that. Act accordingly at your table.
Ultimately, the two instructions don’t conflict. In both cases, Jesus seems to be attacking complicity with the empire. In the case of the guests, their jockeying for the best seats seems to reflect the kind of dinner party “hunger games” vibe of the patronage system. Jesus calls them out. Don’t do it. Remember instead the social structure of the Kingdom — the first shall be last; the last shall be first. After all, the Kingdom means the rich shall be cast down and the poor lifted up. That table where you are fighting for the best seats? The place of honor is going to be given to the poor! So, clear the way!
And the stern directive to the host is perfectly clear: Don’t participate in the patronage system. The economics of Rome are not those of the Kingdom. Remember the prophets’ vision of justice. Remember the promise of sabbath and jubilee. Overcome any temptation to cooperate. Ground yourself in your truest identity — being the people of God who bring shalom.
Neither the host nor the guests are “bad.” They are people living under an all-encompassing authoritarian power. They are trying to navigate the pressures of that world and their faith. When Jesus comes to dinner, he points out the temptations of Rome. And he reminds them of the primacy of God’s table.
Whether you are a guest seeking attention and status or you are a host tempted to use your status to forward your own interests.
Guests: no stealing seats in a social scramble to cozy up to empire. Hosts: no quid pro quo — only generosity, grace, and gratitude.
Luke 14 is so much more than an advice column or an etiquette guide. It is a resistance manual to empire at the dinner table.
Because the table is where the Kingdom begins. Gathered around a meal, pulling up chairs and passing bowls. More seats at the table — a banquet where all are seated and sated. Where the poor are blessed now; and where everyone will know blessing forever.
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INSPIRATION
The world begins at a kitchen table. No matter what, we must eat to live.
The gifts of earth are brought and prepared, set on the table. So it has been since creation, and it will go on.
We chase chickens or dogs away from it. Babies teethe at the corners. They scrape their knees under it.
It is here that children are given instructions on what it means to be human. We make men at it, we make women.
At this table we gossip, recall enemies and the ghosts of lovers.
Our dreams drink coffee with us as they put their arms around our children. They laugh with us at our poor falling-down selves and as we put ourselves back together once again at the table.
This table has been a house in the rain, an umbrella in the sun.
Wars have begun and ended at this table. It is a place to hide in the shadow of terror. A place to celebrate the terrible victory.
We have given birth on this table, and have prepared our parents for burial here.
At this table we sing with joy, with sorrow. We pray of suffering and remorse. We give thanks.
Perhaps the world will end at the kitchen table, while we are laughing and crying, eating of the last sweet bite.
— Joy Harjo, “Perhaps the World Ends Here”
We all need to eat and drink to stay alive. But having a meal is more than eating and drinking. It is celebrating the gifts of life we share. A meal together is one of the most intimate and sacred human events. Around the table we become vulnerable, filling one another’s plates and cups and encouraging one another to eat and drink.
Much more happens at a meal than satisfying hunger and quenching thirst. Around the table we become family, friends, community, yes, a body.
— Henri Nouwen
Wonderful! I am generationaly tied to the kitchen table. The kitchen was the center of the home and all were welcome there. I eat at my great grandmothers kitchen table complete with it's porcelain wheels. There's a little scorch mark on the side I happen to sit on. I wish it had a voice and could tell the stories from the past of being welcomed, fed and how many lives were loved and nurtured around that table. Thank you for that poem and how it brought up these fond and grateful reminders of my beloved table.
This means, Whoever you are, you are welcome at God's Table. No transaction!