Our place at the Table


September 1, 2019 



The Last Supper by Jacopo Bassano
I chose this depiction of the last supper because
it's chaotic and messy.  Jesus looks like he's having second thoughts.
And there's a dog.  But once again it's also a bunch of white guys.
The next one illustrates the gospel text.






Jesus Mafa: The Poor Invited to the Feast






Earlier this week during my morning quiet time I read a meditation on worthiness. “The two phrases ‘I deserve…’ and ‘I am deserving of…’ have very different connotations. The former indicates something I feel owed because I have earned it with hard work or suffering. …The latter, ‘I am deserving of…’, rather than being a justification or complaint or demand, describes something about me that is reflected in an aspect of life either currently present or about to be created simply because I am worthy of it.”[i]  






In this morning’s gospel lesson, in his parable, Jesus is asking his listeners, his host and these guests at a dinner, what they think they deserve versus what are they deserving of. What is it that makes them worthy? Because of their authority or education or social position or wealth or what they have worked hard for, they think they deserve the seats of honor, assuming that there is no one invited who is more distinguished than they are. Jesus points out that we cannot exalt ourselves; we can only humble ourselves. When we know our own worth, and that it does not depend on our hard work or what we have earned, as Eugene Peterson puts it, “if you’re content to simply be yourself, you will become more than yourself.” When we exalt, when we lift up, when we honor the humbled, the humiliated, the dehumanized, the destitute, the debased, those who cannot repay us, we not only receive a blessing, together we become the blessing. We become part of the restoration of God’s people that will be completed at the resurrection of God’s people. 




I asked folks on Facebook to complete the statement, “I deserve ______.” A few folks admitted that they deserve nothing, that what they have has come to them by grace or by privilege or both. Some were in the mood for just desserts: pie, ice cream, cookies without calories. Many people replied with things like respect, dignity, justice, love, peace, acceptance, inclusion, safety, kindness, to feel compassion and to receive it. One person replied with “my constitutional rights”. Others registered the unfairness of life: they deserve to breathe freely, to have relief from chronic pain, to not be judged, to earn a living wage. One person responded that she deserves to have her husband by her side instead of being twice-widowed before the age of 50. Yes, indeed she does.









I think that sometimes, especially when we are confronted with unfairness, loss, suffering, injustice, bigotry, hardheartedness, we must claim what is rightful, what has been lost, what is needed for human thriving. Jesus said the meek shall inherit the earth, yet at this point it will be what’s left of it. What does the earth deserve, one person asked? And yet what we claim for ourselves we must also claim for everyone and every living thing.






Which is what the second statement, “I am deserving of _______”, is all about. I am deserving of, I am worthy of, simply because I draw breath. And so folks answered with words like mercy, forgiveness, love, respect, rest, the chance to work for a just world, to be recognized, to be seen, valued, and heard; deserving of taking risks, being safe, grace, understanding, truth, peace, change, joy, abundance, life. There is nothing we need to do, no merit we must earn. We are worthy simply because we draw breath. Hear this invitation to the Table adapted from a paraphrase of Isaiah 55 by Leslie Brandt: “The love of a righteous God is not something to be bought. It is a gift to be received. There is nothing to bring, no sacrifice to be offered, no merits to be earned. All this has been done on your behalf.  You need only to come, to partake, and to live forever in the light and joy of God’s favor.”




Unconditional love, what we churchy types call grace, is undeserved, unmerited, and unlimited. If love is not unconditional, then it is something else, less than what is offered to us at this Table. Love is not like pie. More for me does not mean less for you. More for you does not mean less for me. Psychiatrist and theologian Gerald May wrote, “Love is the power that births and grieves, the laughter that fills the heavens, the tears that water the earth. Love is the energy that fuels, fills, and embraces everything everywhere. And there is no end to it, ever.” Unconditional love is so radical you don’t even have to believe in God in order to live in it. Because if you did have to believe, it wouldn’t be unconditional, it wouldn’t be radical, it wouldn’t be as amazing as the old song says.




But as it is in another old hymn, love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all—another way of saying unconditional. Which can sound pretty scary and exhausting these days—my soul, my life, my all. No matter what, Jesus would have us love as he loved. Fear shrinks but love expands. Fear punishes but love restores. Fear restricts but love encourages, inspires, reassures, emboldens, and raises spirits. And it is within this love that cannot be repaid that we grow and come to new life—the resurrection of God’s people.



Amen.





Benediction – You Deserve by Susan Herrick



You deserve the blue skies.

You deserve the rainbow.

You deserve the paradise that you dare to ask for.

You deserve to always know everybody loves you so

and if you ever forget you just ask.



Let us live and love this way, not only for ourselves but for especially for those who cannot return the favor. Following in Jesus’ way, Amen.










[i] The Dance: Moving to the Deep Rhythms of Your Life, Oriah Mountain Dreamer. New York, NY: HarperCollins, 2001. Pg.78.

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