What Does Our Invitation Look Like?
a sermon based on Luke 14:1, 7-14
By Rev. Randy Quinn

For me, it happened within weeks of graduating from college.  Suddenly, I was an adult.  It probably began before then, but suddenly I realized it.  I was on my own.  I was making all the decisions about my life.

And one of the decisions I had to make was where to attend church.

As I moved from college life in Seattle, just a short drive from the church I had attended while in High School, I found myself setting up an apartment in Athens, Georgia.  When I moved there, I didn't know anybody.  And I didn't know where any churches were.

So I simply decided to attend the closest United Methodist Church to my apartment -- with the only factor being that it had to have only one worship service and one pastor because I didn't want to attend a large church.

That decision-making process served me well there.  And it served me well in the next six places I lived.  Each time, I walked into the church as a stranger hoping to find love and community.  But each time, I found my heart racing as I entered the sanctuary for the first time.

It's not very often that I enter a church as a total stranger anymore.  But it's important for me that I remember what it was like to be the stranger.

Have you ever been the stranger looking for friends or family?  Have you ever stepped into a group knowing that some day you would be a part of that group even though you were a total stranger?

Last month I went to Seattle for a wedding rehearsal.  I had only met the couple prior to the wedding, so I was a little apprehensive when I didn't recognize anyone in the room.  No one spoke to me.  In fact, no one seemed to notice my presence.  I was all but invisible until I began to ask where the bride and groom were.  Imagine my surprise when I realized that I was at the wrong rehearsal.

I eventually found the right wedding party, held the rehearsal, had dinner, and went home.

Rehearsal dinners are often strange affairs for a pastor.  Most people who are there are close friends with the bride or groom.  And while I always meet with the couple beforehand, I don't always know them as well.  Sometimes I know the parents.  But in most of the weddings I've done, I sit alone during the dinner, a stranger at the table.

Maybe that's why I read this passage from Luke and hear such good news.  I've been a stranger.  I know how important it is to be included, to be invited, to be welcomed.

Luke has probably been invited as a special guest.  It's not because they agree with him, but the host is interested in Jesus.  So Jesus is sitting in a place of honor where everyone can see him and most people will listen to what he has to say

But not many of the invited guests will be pleased with his words.  Let's listen in on the conversation for a moment.

                                                      Read Luke 14:1, 7-14

One of the traditions I learned during my time in the Navy is the seating arrangement at the table in the Ward­room.  The Wardroom is where the officers on a ship eat.  The Captain always sits at the head of the table with his Executive Officer at his right.  Guests sit at the Captain's left, and everyone else sits by rank, alter­nating from right to left to the end of the table.  At the end of the table is where the officer in charge of the meal sits, generally the Supply Officer.

It was always simple for me, I knew that I sat at the far end of the table looking at the Captain.  But it was comical sometimes to watch people trying to sort out who was to sit where when we had guests or additional officers aboard.

Formal dinners follow the same rule generally except rank isn't always so obvious.  In a wedding party, for instance, I can never remember who is more important, the Best Man or the Grandmother of the Bride.  Fortunately for me, the wedding coordinator can help with those questions.  And more and more, we're having to answer the increasingly difficult question of where to seat step-parents.

At the last wedding I conducted, some aunts and uncles sat in the seats reserved for grandparents.  Just before the wedding began, we had to ask them to find another seat.

Jesus knows these rules of etiquette, or at least the current version of them in his society.  And he is aware of how people move around trying to find the "right" seat.

And while it makes some sense to not presuppose your own importance, what Jesus really has to say is that in God's eyes we are all equal.  No one sits closer to God because of what they have done, how they worship, or how large their donations are.

For that reason, Jesus asks us to remember not only people that we could call our "significant others" but also those who are "significantly other" than ourselves.  He suggests that in the Kingdom of God, at the Table set before us today, our invitation should include not only those who are friends and family but also those who are strangers.

It's easy to have a dinner and invite your closest friends.  And whether we like them or not, we don't normally have a problem when we invite family over for dinner.  But very few of us make a habit of open invitations to anyone who would like to join us.

Part of that is because we have been taught and we teach our children to beware of strangers.  We are a little leery around people we don't know.  Especially people who seem different than us.

I've told you before about the first Sunday after I moved to Evanston, Illinois to begin seminary.  I found the closest United Methodist Church to my apartment and went there on Sunday.  I confess to you now that as I sat in my car outside the church my heart began to race -- not just because I knew this was a new church and I was a stranger, but also because I saw only black folks approaching the building.  For the entire time I attended seminary, that church was my home, and most Sundays I was the only Cauca­sian present.

And what I learned by attending there for over two years is that it's more important to be aware of strangers than it is to beware of strangers.  They took me in like family.  I was a stranger in their midst who they knew was welcome at God's Table.

            Jesus was invited as a special guest, but he had also been an outsider before.  He knew what it meant to stand in the streets with the outcasts of society.

And he stands with them today.  Until they are welcome at our table, Jesus is not present.  Until this is an open Table where any and all people are invited and welcomed, it is not the Lord's Table.

Jesus is calling us to change.  He isn't asking for a simple, easy change, but he is calling us to change.  To change as individuals, as a congregation, as a nation.  To change in such a way that everyone will always feel welcome in our midst.

But to change, we must first look at our own invita­tions.  We need to see how we invite folks and who we invite.  We need to be the stranger at times and experience what it means to be alone and isolated.

Like Jesus, we need to stand with strangers and befriend them.  Like Jesus, we need to become their advo­cates.  Like Jesus, we need to raise their concerns in the presence of those who can effect change.

This is the Word of God.

Thanks be to God.  Amen.