A sermon given by Revd Tessa Stephens
"The Spiritual Dangers of Pride"
Organising a wedding is a tricky business. When we planned our wedding, I didn’t want to leave anything to chance so I planned it all in as much detail as possible. One of the most difficult tasks was the table plan. Anyone who has ever organised a wedding will know how complicated it is to sort out who is going to sit where. Is there going to be a top table? Who will sit next to whom? Will people be offended if they are on the wrong table, or worse still, not invited at all?
How we celebrate big occasionsand how we eat together says a lot about the kind of people we are. If status matters to us this was far more important in the world in which Jesus lived than it is for us. The ancient world was an honour or shame society in which others' perceptions of you could not easily be shrugged off. Losing face was akin to losing your very identity.
And it’s in this context that Jesus offers advice that we’ve heard in our Gospel reading. At first it may seem as if Jesus is giving etiquette advice – a 'how to' guide for the first century guest. And the advice seems to be sound – when you arrive at a party don’t rush straight for the best seat and risk being demoted. Instead take a lower place and perhaps you will be promoted.
But Luke also makes it clear that this story is a parable. So although we can take Jesus’ words as practical advice there is a deeper meaning there too. Jesus is trying to tell us something about the spiritual dangers of pride. Pursuing worldly respect and esteem can be spiritually dangerous. In contrast, humility is a virtue which enables us to know more of God. The word humility tends to have bad press. People don’t think of it as an attractive quality, perhaps because it has become associated with characters such as Uriah Heep from David Copperfield who constantly boasts of being so “horribly humble”. But I think that the idea of humility might be worth a second look. It comes from the Latin word humus meaning ground or earth. So humility doesn’t really have very much to do with putting yourself down all the time. Instead it’s about being grounded in self knowledge and knowing who we are before God.
St Benedict said that as we step downwards in humility we step up towards God. Perhaps this is because the more we realise that we have a need for God’s love, the more we are able to receive that love.
It’s important to remember that as Luke writes his gospel, he is writing for a new Christian church in which there are both Jewish and Gentile converts. Questions of esteem and of who takes first place would have been important to them too. Perhaps Luke chooses to include this story to remind the Jewish converts that they are not superior to their Gentile brothers and sisters. Equally the new Christian communities contained both wealthy householders and slaves. So there is a reminder here that all are equal in the sight of God.
After giving us this advice in the form of a parable Jesus speaks more directly; and this time rather than speaking about how to be a good guest he is talking to the host of the party. And Jesus’ advice for party planners is certainly a little unexpected. Rather than inviting friends, neighbours or relations we should be inviting the poor, the crippled and the lame – or in other words those who are excluded from society. Jesus suggests that those who take his advice will be rewarded at the resurrection.
Our second reading, from Hebrews takes this advice further in that it suggests that we should not forget to entertain strangers because we may find that we have been visited by angels.
Jesus' advice is a warning to the Pharisees with whom he is eating that their view of the kingdom of God may be more exclusive than God’s view. The Pharisees had a tendency to see themselves as something of a spiritual elite and to exclude those who were outsiders. But it’s also a warning to all of us that God’s ways are not our ways and that at the heavenly banquet we may find ourselves keeping company that we would never have anticipated.
Perhaps there is a message here for all of us about learning to enjoy the company of those who are different from ourselves. Most of us don’t spend a lot of time at banquets and unless we’re full time conference organisers or party planners we probably don’t put a lot of effort into table plans and working out who should sit where. But our culture has different temptations and the sharing of food in a way which celebrates the good gifts that God has given us and which is welcoming and inclusive is not always easy to achieve.
It sometimes seems that as a culture we’re losing the habit of hospitality. This was something that became very clear to me at college. Although as a college community we prayed, studied and ate together most people were under a lot of pressure most of the time and it sometimes felt as if we were a community that indulged in speed studying and speed eating. Taking time for each other seems simple but it can be a much bigger sacrifice than it first appears to be.
It’s the hospitality of God towards us as his much loved children that provides us with a model for what our hospitality towards others might be. And we see that hospitality demonstrated in the wonder of the Eucharist. The bread and wine which we share celebrate a poured out life, which even in brokenness is the true source of nourishment. As we participate in the meal which God hosts we can let go of our worries about status and performance. And if we struggle with feelings of unworthiness and inadequacy before this great feast then the words of George Herbert, a 17th Century poet and priest may speak to us.
In the poem the narrator describes how his initial reluctance to respond to God or Love’s invitation is overcome by Love’s insistence that our failings have been dealt with. The poem ends:
"And know you not," says Love, "who bore the blame?"
"My dear, then I will serve."
"You must sit down," says Love, "and taste my meat."
So I did sit and eat.
Amen