Belonging

​Food was at the center of Jesus’ ministry. Over and over again in the Gospels, we see Jesus eating with people. Often Jesus was the host, like the times he miraculously fed the multitudes and at the Last Supper. Just as often, including in our reading for this morning, Jesus was a guest at a meal hosted by someone else.
 
In this morning’s Gospel, a leader of the Pharisees invited Jesus into his home for a festive sabbath meal. That was a dangerous thing to do!
 
When Jesus saw the other guests engaged in an unseemly scramble for the good seats, “the places of honor,” he told them a parable about not doing exactly that. I’m guessing the rest of the party was a little awkward.
 
Parties where honor is at stake still happen. Carrie and I recently watched a silly crime/comedy show about a murder that happens in the White House during a formal state dinner for the Australian ambassador. In a state dinner, it matters where people sit. Putting the Australian ambassador in a seat he found insulting could cause an international incident. In a funny scene, the Social Secretary was madly moving people around during the meal itself, desperately trying to make sure everyone got into exactly the right spot.  
 
I don’t get invited to parties like that. But back when I used to attend Smith College parties, I never knew my place, where I should stand or sit.
 
I eventually refused to go to any more Smith parties. But the issue hasn’t gone away. The clergy of our Diocese always go on retreat in May. I like and respect all my colleagues, but I am not buddies with many of them, so I never know who to sit with at meals.
 
Last year, Terry and I carpooled to and from the retreat, and we shared a room at it. You might think that’s a lot of togetherness for the two of us. But I was also glued to Terry’s shoulder at every meal and social gathering. Terry was too kind to say anything, but I imagine he was thinking to himself how nice a little space might be!
 
I don’t think I’m unusual. All people long to belong. We want to be part of the group, to be included, to know that others value us for who we are. And I would guess that all of us have had occasions when we didn’t feel that way, when we weren’t sure of our place and didn’t know if we belonged.
 
Jesus’ parable is good news for anyone who has ever felt that way.
 
Jesus often describes heaven as a wedding feast. I imagine my arrival. I’m definitely glad to be there, given the alternative! But I’m looking in at a big party where everyone is having fun, and I’m not sure that I belong, and I don’t even have a book to read if I decide to sneak out.
 
And here comes the good news. When we walk into that great wedding banquet in the sky, the host, Jesus himself, will rush over, and welcome us in, and call out to everyone, “Look, Harvey is here.” Then Jesus will seat me in a place of honor while everyone gives me a round of applause.
 
It’s not going to be literally like that, of course. But something like that will be true for all of us. We will all be honored guests at the heavenly banquet, with excellent seats at a table reserved just for us. (I realize everyone can’t be honored guests at a state dinner at the White House. But God can do it in heaven!)
 
We can bring this good news down to earth, too. It may happen that no one wants to talk to us at a party or make room for us at a table. People can be thoughtless, and people can be cruel.
 
But in those moments when we feel ignored or excluded, Jesus is right there with us. Jesus promises to be with us always, even to the end of the age, especially in those times when we feel isolated or unloved. And Jesus is the one who matters. The good news is that Christ loves us, and that means we always belong, no matter where we are.
 
That is the good news for us as Christ’s guests. And, as always, there is a corollary. Like Christ, sometimes we are not the guest; sometimes we are the hosts.
 
And as hosts, we have the responsibility to welcome people in Christ’s name. Christ tells us to make a special effort to “invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind,” the people who are so often excluded, the people who could never pay us back.
 
We talked about this passage at Contemplative Prayer, and one person noted that she isn’t going to invite a bunch of strangers—rich or poor—into her house anytime soon. I’m with her on that.
 
But we can all still help people feel like they belong, like they matter, like they have a metaphorical seat at the table. Or not.
 
The implications for us here at Church are obvious. We need to make a special point of welcoming visitors and doing whatever we can to make everyone feel comfortable.
 
But the same is true in the rest of our lives, too.
 
In the middle of my sophomore year in high school, a new kid showed up. A teacher introduced him to us, and asked us to make him feel welcome. I remember thinking to myself, I should invite the new kid to sit with me and my friends at lunch. I knew he would be grateful. But when class ended, for whatever reason, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
 
The new kid did fine. But he and I never became friends. And I still remember his name long after I have forgotten the names of classmates I knew better and liked more because I still remember the time I failed to give the new kid a place at the table when it would have been easy for me to do.
 
Most opportunities to include others are not quite so obvious as that one. But we can include people by doing something as simple as making eye contact with them. I think of homeless people or people on the edge of a conversation.
 
We can really listen to people. It is tempting, whenever someone shares a thought, to jump in right away with our opinion. But that treats them as if their thought doesn’t much matter. We can instead listen, and perhaps learn, and definitely treat the other person with courtesy and respect.
 
But this goes beyond courtesy or being nice. As Christian people, we are called to see Christ in the people around us. We are called to hear Christ in their words. We are called to respond to them as to Christ himself. Attending to others is not us doing them a favor. It is us being faithful disciples of Christ.
 
At the end of our Gospel reading, Jesus promises that when we include the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind, we “will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.” That’s an important promise.
 
But we don’t have to wait for the resurrection to enjoy some payback. Being with others as with Christ is already a little foretaste of the heavenly banquet.
 
And so I thank God for welcoming us. I thank Christ for being with us always, especially when we aren’t sure we belong. And I thank Christ for being with us in the people we welcome in his name. Amen.