Here's a link to the readings for this week.
Gather around the table,
you who are hungry and healing.
Gather around the bread and wine, you fellows and kindred.
Gather shoulder to shoulder, you weary travelers,
with those who have crossed your path on this journey
As you raise your glasses,
may you give honor to all who surround you, for everyone who partakes in this meal is a masterpiece of creation.
And may the Spirit of God— who teaches us the delights of true communion
come join us.
๐
“You will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.” Jesus’ teaching is especially poignant this week as our hearts are tender and our thoughts are of Kathleen Huffman, who passed earlier this week. Ancient Jewish tradition is known for its lavish banquet imagery. And can’t we just imagine dear Kathleen at the best party of all?
One of the hardest things to accept about death is that we are left here to wonder, “What now?” How do we carry on faithfully when our hearts are heavy? Thankfully, Luke’s Gospel offers some exquisite wisdom. And we owe a debt of gratitude to Luke and the Pharisees for allowing us a glimpse into their time with Jesus, who seems to rock their eschatological world. Eschatology is the study of endings of many kinds, including death, resurrection, the end times, and the Kingdom of God.
And while none of this might sound much like a party to you, the Pharisees had their ideas about endings, and I imagine they must have been quite curious about Jesus’ thoughts on the matter. This is not the first time Luke’s Jesus dines with the Pharisees.
There was the dinner hosted by Simon the Pharisee during which the unnamed woman wiped Jesus’ feet with her hair. At this gathering, Jesus forgives the woman, and a shocked Simon receives an earful of truth.
“Who is this Jesus who forgives sins?” the Pharisees wonder.
And because, you know, third time’s a charm, there’s today’s dinner where Jesus scrutinizes some of the dinner guests' problematic behavior.
Jesus’ imperatives about humility (take the lowest seat) and inclusion (invite the poor, the lame, the blind…) are quite specific. (Specific as some of the Jewish rules about pulling your kid or your ox out of a ditch on the Sabbath.)
The way I see it, Jesus seems to be asking three things of the religious leaders: To pay closer attention to what’s going on right in front of them, to think a little more outside the box, and to stay focused on the most important thing – the kingdom of God.
As the guest of honor, Jesus is personable and passionate, and never seems to disappoint, even though he throws down some pretty hardcore truth. Can you just imagine Jesus at your dinner party?
On the menu: That dish you’re most confident about – maybe a chicken and rice casserole – with a simple salad and a crusty loaf of French bread. You set a beautiful table. The lighting is perfect. Just the right music plays softly in the background. Your seating chart ensures lively and interesting conversation. No introverts sitting together. And there will be no political discussion! You leave nothing to chance by preemptively organizing bodies impeccably.
And just as everyone is about to be seated, your final guest arrives, a little late and a little dusty, but smiling his warm and friendly smile — and ravenous. Jesus is always down for a meal and, without waiting for you to steer him in the direction of his seat of honor, he plops himself in the nearest chair. In a flurry that resembles a game of musical chairs, your guests vie to sit near the charismatic Christ.
So much for seating assignments.
Jesus offers a blessing, and, as he gobbles down your yummy casserole, he is not at all shy about reaching for seconds or soaking up every last bit of your casserole with torn crusts of bread. He engages each person in conversation. He tells the most amazing stories. Laughter fills the room, and everyone seems relaxed and happy.
As your guests move from the table for coffee and dessert, it occurs to you that you may have just thrown a dinner party for the ages; one your guests will surely never forget. And it’s all because of Jesus, the coolest, most awesome guest ever.
Just then, you notice a distinct shift in the energy. From the corner of your eye, you spot some guests huddled together with Jesus. Their conversation seems to be taking a political turn. Nooooo! With great trepidation, you inch closer. Sweat beads form on your forehead, and you feel a little flushed. You begin to wonder if your epic party is a bust.
And then Jesus announces, “The kingdom of God is among you.” Then he turns, thanks you for your hospitality, and quietly leaves the party.
Another classic Jesus Mic drop. It’s the kingdom, stupid. (Jesus would not say stupid.) It’s been here all along. Don’t you get it?
Endings of all kinds can be hard.
So, what do we do now? We carry on. We can throw dinner parties. We’ve got that one down, St. Mark’s. We continue reaching out, wherever we see a need. We stay present to signs of God’s kingdom that cares about love now, as Father Chris said in his sermon last week.
This week, I came across a local community forum discussion started by the desperate mother of a child with special needs. In the post, she publicly lamented that her child had been regularly excluded from certain school activities because she was differently abled. Thankfully, she found community in this social media platform. Other parents chimed in with similarly heartbreaking stories. The discussion was surprisingly civil and compassionate. These parents are just seeking solutions. They dream of a community where their children feel they belong.
This week, I also learned about The Longest Table. It’s an initiative of the Howard County Library System, designed to combat social isolation and loneliness while fostering a sense of community. Suggested conversation starters and common discussion topics encourage participants to get to know their neighbors around a massive dinner table. Since its inception in New York City several years ago, The Longest Table has become so popular organizers here in Howard County will take it outdoors on October 4 of this year! Sounds a lot like kingdom activity to me, and it’s right down the street!
Trappist monk and one of the founders of the contemporary contemplative prayer movement, Thomas Keating, of blessed memory, suggests two more ways we might encounter the kingdom of God. The first way is through suffering – not highly recommended, but effective. Suffering can break us open, humbling us just enough to be receptive.
The other way, according to Keating, is through prayer and practice – by “going into our room, closing the door, and praying to the Father in secret,” as Matthew writes in his Gospel. Regular contemplative prayer can help us identify what Keating calls “our emotional programs for happiness.” These are the unconscious ways we try to meet our need for safety, affection and esteem, power and control. Awareness can help free us from unhealthy patterns and open us to God’s kingdom (like little children).
“Paradox is the only basket large enough to hold truth:”
― Rev.
The kingdom of God, at first glance, might seem exclusive – but in truth it is radically inclusive. It doesn’t cost a cent. But it does have a cost. For Jesus, God’s kingdom on earth (as in heaven) is the most important thing, and yet, remarkably, it’s not a thing at all.
In our grief, we may find solace in a more future-oriented banquet motif. It might comfort us in our sorrow, as in the 23rd Psalm (You prepare a table before me) or Isaiah 25:6 (the Lord of hosts will make for all peoples a feast). We might also seek the kingdom here and now, as we carry on together our kingdom work of love, as Kathleen would certainly expect us to do. Amen.