David LaChapelle (1963-) |
“…you will be repaid at the resurrection
of the righteous.” (Luke 14:14)
Boy howdy do we ever love status. I guess that’s why facebook
is so appealing. We can really show ourselves off like we’re all still trying
to be the cool kids in high school. With the ability to publish our every
thought and activity to hundreds of “friends” at once, Mr. Zukerberg has
successfully managed to keep America in a perpetual state of adolescence. I’m
just glad the acne doesn’t come with it.
But status, prestige, the adulation of the
masses, and big rewards are the things Jesus warns us about in the Gospel
reading assigned for Pentecost 12 in the Revised Common Lectionary this year
(Luke 14: 1, 7-14). Jesus has been invited to a dinner party at some big-shot
Pharisee’s house. It’s pretty clear the host didn’t invite Jesus in the hope of
a reciprocal invitation to an equally swanky soiree. Nope. Jesus doesn’t have
those kinds of bucks. But I suspect the itinerant rabbi’s fame is what put him
on the A-list. All the other guests are looking at this peasant preacher, the
current flavor of the month around Israel, and wondering what he’s going to do
and say. Maybe some of them only showed up because they heard the famous Jesus
of Nazareth would be attending. If we can’t be
a celebrity, you know, we at least like to say we’ve met one.
Jesus is watching them, too. He sees how
they jockey for position, everybody trying to get the VIP seats at the table to
show off their stature within the community. So Jesus busts out with the parable
in verses 7-11. The moral is pretty obvious: Don’t go around puffing yourself
up, because somebody will—inevitably—come along and let the air out of you.
Then you’ll be disgraced. Which is bad. There are some folks who would prefer
cancer to humiliation.
I’d like to point out, however, that I
don’t think there’s any real sin in being successful or well-regarded. In a
brilliant speech he gave at King’s College, London in 1944[i], C.S. Lewis likened having
status to inheriting a fortune from your maiden aunt. If she dies and leaves
you a ton of money, there’s nothing wrong with that. The sin is in coveting it. That is, if you want the old broad to kick off so she
can leave you her loot, you better get yourself right with God. The hunger for
status, fame, adulations, or what have you is the real problem. It’s like a
drunk’s thirst for booze. A little bit is too much, and a lifetime of praise is
never enough. It will be cool for a while, but will eventually leave you
unsatisfied. You’ll discover your fellow high-status people are just as messed
up and insecure as you are.
When I re-read Jesus’ suggestion for a
better dinner party in verses 12-14, I thought of that great old MGM melodrama Dinner at Eight.[ii] A society lady wants to
show off to her friends by inviting a British peer and his wife to dinner.
She’s so obsessed with the impression she’ll be making that she never notices
the illness of her husband and the turmoil of her daughter. We, the audience,
see how all of the dinner guests, in spite of their tuxedos and evening gowns
and glittering jewels, are just a bunch of broken and miserable human beings
full of sin and unhappiness.
What would the world look like, I wonder,
were we to put all the effort and resources we put into making ourselves look
successful and important into providing mercy and aid for the “unimportant”
people of the earth? Those “little people,” you see, are pretty big and
important in God’s eyes. And so are you.
Just remind yourself. Once a man loved you
so much that he went to death on a cross for you. You were that important. You mattered
that much to him. Is there any job or honor you’re going to get, any swanky
friend you’re going to make, any award you’ll win or applause you’ll receive
that will matter more to you than the
knowledge of how much God already
loves you? I mean, come on. Do you
really give a crap about where you sit at the table? Because at the head of the
table or at the foot, the end of the meal will be the same.
[i]
You can read the text of this speech if you go to https://www.lewissociety.org/innerring/
.
[ii]
It was released in 1933. It’s brilliantly over-acted by an all-star cast and
based on a play by George S. Kaufman and Edna Ferber. If you ever see it,
you’ll know why folks in the Depression found it great escapism.
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