Posts Tagged ‘honour’

Holding a dinner party – who to invite, where to seat them

August 30, 2025

Pentecost 12 – 2025

Luke 14:1, 7-14

Marian Free

Loving God, give us a true sense of our worth, that we may never need to build ourselves up at the expense of another. Amen.

If you were invited to a formal wedding breakfast, you would expect to find a diagramme of the table arrangement indicating at which table you were to sit. When you found that table you would look for a place card with your name and you would take your seat – regardless of whether or not you were sitting with someone you knew and liked, and no matter how far from the bridal table you were placed. Most of us absorb the social norms of our own subculture. So, we will understand that the host has gone to an enormous amount of trouble deciding who should sit where – depending on a person’s place in the family and the degree of association the person has with the family. The bride and groom, with their attendants sit at the head table. Parents, grandparents and siblings sit close to the bride and groom (indicating their close relationship) and friends – especially single friends are usually to be found furthest away. A distant cousin would not expect a seat at the front.

At formal events place cards save us the trouble of trying to work out where we fit in the social heirarchy and, even were we to accidently sit in the wrong place, our faux pas would not cause lasting damage to our reputation or to our place in society. 

The situation was vastly different in the first century in which status and rank were closely guarded assets and in which principles of honour and shame governed almost every interaction. Honour was a commodity that could be ascribed (by birth) or acquired through effort. It was acquired by excelling over other people in speech or in battle or by diminishing or putting down another. Honour was a claim to worth and the social acknowledgement of that worth. However, honour was a limited commodity, once lost it was hard to regain, except at someone else’s expense. 

In such a culture it was vital that those of equal position did not compromise their honour, or that of the person with whom they were interacting. It was also essential not to insult a person – whether of higher or lower status – by behaving in a way that did not acknowledge that person’s position in society.  Equally it was important not to become indebted to another or to place them in your debt which would diminish your or their status. In order to maintain one’s place, it was essential not to expose any weakness or vulnerability which would allow another to take advantage of you.

The honour/shame culture explains many of the gospel exchanges and parables. Perhaps the most obvious example is that of Herod’s beheading of John the Baptist. Herod had promised to give his dancing stepdaughter whatever she asked, not for one minute expecting that she would ask for John’s head. However, despite the fact that he “was grieved” he ordered his guards to carry her wishes:, “out of regard for his oaths and for his guests”. Had Herod behaved in any other way, had he gone back on his word he would have been perceived as weak and vacillating. He would have lost face in front of his guests and his ability to command the respect of his peers, and his ability to control the rebellious Galileans would have been seriously compromised.

In an honour/shame culture a dinner invitation and the resulting dinner had serious implications. Invitations were only extended to those who could enhance one’s honour – those of at least equal rank, or those whom one might place in one’s debt.  A person would not accept an invitation immediately but would wait to see who else was invited – and then only accept if the guest list included people of the same or higher status. One’s honour depended on not associating with anyone who could bring them down. (This explains the parable of the wedding banquet and the poor excuses people make for not attending. They haven’t replied, because they wanted first to learn who else was going.)

In our gospel today Jesus is at a dinner party. Obviously, his hosts see him as a person of some consequence, or he would not have received an invitation. But Jesus is an uncomfortable guest. Instead of quietly summing up the room and choosing an appropriate place at the table – one that reflected his status vis a vis the other guests, Jesus chooses to offer a critique of the status-seeking behaviour of the other guests. Interestingly, he didn’t suggest that the guests are of equal status, only that it is not up to them to determine their worth and where they should sit. 

Jesus continues by addressing the host and reflecting on the guest list. He completely overthrowing the cultural norms by suggesting that the host invite people who have nothing to offer – no status and certainly no return invitation. Jesus’ suggestion would have two consequences. It would weaken the host’s place in the world, and it would also put those guests under an obligation which would be a degrading and unacceptable thing to do.  

Jesus is doing here what he does throughout the gospels – he is overturning the social mores of his time and culture and establishing the norms and expectations of the kingdom, a kingdom in which a person is valued according to their love of God and of God’s children, in which humility takes precedence over pride, service over leadership, selflessness over greed. 

Today’s gospel is a reminder that we are called not to measure ourselves according to the standards of the world in which we find ourselves, weighing up our good deeds, our achievements, our possessions and comparing ourselves with others. We are called not to only associate with those who can benefit ourselves but also with those whose friendship will be costly – to our reputation or to our pocket. We are called to see all people through the lens of God’s love, to treat all people as worthy of dignity, and of the basic requirements of life and to understand that nothing that we have, nothing that we value, nothing that we have earned makes God value us more highly than God values us now and certainly does not ensure that God values us any more than other person. 

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Difficult and incoherent – Jesus on discipleship

September 25, 2021

Pentecost 18 – 2021
Mark 9:38-50
Marian Free

May I speak in the name of God who in Jesus gives us the perfect model of discipleship. Amen.

Millstones around one’s neck, cutting off one’s hands and feet, pulling out one’s eyes, entering life deformed rather than facing the fires of Gehenna – verses 42-48 of Mark chapter 9 are utterly confronting, even incomprehensible. In fact, the entirety of today’s reading is perhaps the most difficult of all to understand let alone to preach on. To quote C. Clifton Black “It contains things that drive the conscientious (of preachers) into a slough of despondence: exorcisms (38), multiple disturbances in the Greek text, footnoted in responsible English translations (vv 42,44,45, 46, 49) and hard sayings of Jesus (39-41) that are logically incoherent (48-50) or which are manifestly outrageous (42-47) .”

Thankfully, the passage makes a lot more sense and is a lot more coherent it we take a step back and read it in context – both from a literary point of view and from an historical/cultural perspective. The verses that we have read this morning follow directly on from last Sunday’s gospel which began with Jesus’ second prediction of his passion and resurrection, was followed by the disciples’ bickering about who was the greatest and concluded with Jesus’ visual parable about the nature of discipleship – Jesus “sat down and called the twelve, and said to them, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” 36 Then he took a little child and put it among them; and taking it in his arms, he said to them, 37 “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.” The second saying in this pair illustrates and expands the first in that a child is an example of the “last of all.” In an aural culture, the two sayings would be further linked by the similar sounding Greek words παιδον for child and παις for servant.

This connection between the two parts of Jesus’ illustration warns us against romanticising Jesus’ use of a child to make his point. “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all” Jesus says. Time has softened the offense of Jesus’ statement here. In the twenty first century we have a very different attitude towards children from that of Jesus’ time and place. In the first century, children, along with slaves, were on the lowest rung of society: they had no legal status, no agency and certainly no self-determination. A person would gain no social or economic gain from welcoming a child – in fact their reputation would be compromised rather than enhanced if they were to pay much heed to someone who had nothing to offer them in terms of honour and status. A child was not unlike the “the last of all and the servant of all” for “the servant of all” was, as the expression implies, at the very bottom of the social ladder. A servant or διακονος was someone who served the food and the servant of all would only be able to eat after everyone else had eaten enough to satisfy them.

Jesus is doing here what he does so well. By insisting that his disciples welcome children as they would welcome him Jesus is completely reversing the cultural norms of his day. He is teaching his disciples that they are not to seek (or expect) honour and status but are to be “servants of all” and are to welcome into their midst the lowest of the low, the most marginalised and the most vulnerable – those who not only cannot confer status, but who will, by their very presence lessen the disciples’ own position in society.

Today’s complex and difficult reading is a continuation of this theme – that discipleship does not confer power or set apart, but rather calls one to sacrifice one’s position in the world by immersing oneself in the lives of those who are most despised and who have the least to offer.

This is spelt out in a number of ways. First of all Jesus makes it clear that discipleship is not a special club consisting of the “in-crowd”, nor does it confer special powers and privileges on only a few. If therefore, the disciples notice someone casting out demons in Jesus’ name, they are not to stop them. Being a disciple does not give a person special privileges. The disciples should rejoice that others, however unconnected to Jesus, are able to exercise the powers that Jesus has bestowed on them.

Secondly, Jesus points out that with discipleship comes great responsibility. Not only are disciples expected to welcome the most vulnerable and the least worthy, they are also to note that the consequences of causing harm to anyone of “these little ones” are catastrophic. It would be better, Jesus says, to have a millstone placed around their neck and be cast into the sea! This means, he continues, that rather than risking harm to others, those things that might cause such harm should be dealt with in the most radical way possible and disposed of.

Finally, Jesus seems to sum up what he has been saying since he announced his death and resurrection for the second time. That is that discipleship involves sacrifice not exaltation, service not power, collaboration, not competition. For this he uses the image of salt which in the Old Testament is associated with sacrifice. When we see the passage as a whole we can see that we have come full-circle. What began with Jesus’ second announcement of his passion was followed by the disciples’ argument about who was the greatest. Jesus then confronted the disciples’ status-seeking behaviour by insisting that they become last of all, that they welcome those who can confer no status. He challenges their desire to be distinctive, by welcoming anyone who casts out demons in his name, he insists, that they cause harm to no one and that they, like him are willing to give everything – even their lives – for the sake of others.

Discipleship is so much more than simply living good lives. It is about following Jesus’ example, no matter what that might cost us in terms of respect, reputation, ambition. It means putting ourselves last and others first, and giving up everything for the privilege of following Jesus – who gave up everything for us.

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True honour

July 14, 2018

Pentecost 8 – 2018

Mark 6:14-29

(Notes while on leave)

Marian Free

In the name of God, who sees who we are and not who we pretend to be. Amen.

If you watch enough gangster or James Bond movies, you will know how precarious life can be for the members of a gang or terrorist group. In order to join the group a person must prove themselves by committing a crime or an act of violence. Once admitted, a member cannot afford to show any sign of weakness lest they be despised, humiliated or even abused by the other members of the gang. The position of leader is even more tenuous than that of members and can only be maintained by a continual show of strength and even violence. Any sign of insurrection or lack of discipline within the group must be dealt with immediately – the perpetrator put back into their place or in the worst-case scenario disposed of in order to establish the fact that the leader is the ultimate power within the group.

This is not a modern problem. Any examination of the ruling class in Great Britain will reveal that many of the Kings (or Queens) obtained their power through subterfuge, brutality, war or murder. If they achieved their goal, they were vulnerable to attack by those whom they had deposed or disenfranchised. The only way to maintain their hold on power was by violence and oppression. Because they had achieved their position by force, they had to hold on to it by force. They could never be sure who their friends were and had to always be on high alert because just as he/she had sought power, so he/she could be sure that someone else was waiting to take the power from them at the first opportunity. (The current documentary about Lady Jane Grey illustrates this most clearly.)

The situation was much the same in the first century. Herod Antipater had a reputation for ruthlessness. He was not a legitimate ruler, but had obtained his power by backing the winner in the battle between Pompey and Julius Caesar. The people resented him because he wasn’t a Jew and just as Rome had appointed him, so Rome could depose him if he didn’t keep the peace and if he didn’t ensure that the nation paid its dues to the Emperor. When Herod died, his son, Herod the Great inherited the kingdom and on his death the kingdom was divided among his three sons one of whom, also named Herod, is the Herod of today’s gospel. Like his father and grandfather before him, Herod was not secure in his position but was dependent on Rome and on his ability to subdue any opposition. He ruled by force – crushing any opposition to ensure that Rome saw him as a person of strength and that the people perceived him as a person not to be crossed.

It is against this background and against the background of a culture of honour and shame that the death of John the Baptist must be understood. (For a brief description of the honour/shame culture see last week’s offering.)

In the context of the time, hosting a feast was a means to reveal one’s wealth and to test the loyalty of one’s constituents. It was also a way to ensure that the guests were in one’s debt. Herod will have observed all the proper protocols in order to ensure that a) his guests would attend, b) that their honour was appropriately recognized and c) so that they would recognize their dependence on him. Seating arrangements would also have been organized to give to each person the respect due to their position relative to everyone else. The food will have been of an appropriate standard and entertainment will have been provided.

It is very unlikely in such a context that the daughter of his Herod’s wife would have danced for the guests. We have to see this as artistic license on the part of the author (or the tradition). (In fact for a member of Herod’s family to have danced before the guests would have been shameful – it would imply that Herod had no self respect and was not able to manage his family.) Even had the daughter danced, the kingdom clearly was not Herod’s to give away.

Taking the account at face value (as Mark would have us do) we have to understand that Herod cannot afford to lose face or to show weakness in front of his guests. To do so would jeopardize not only his status but his grip on power. He must fulfill his promise however reluctant he is.

We live in a world that is vastly different from that of the first century Mediterranean but most of us are still concerned with how others might see us and some of us compromise our values and ideals so as not to be derided or excluded.

Jesus had no such scruples. Jesus was absolutely confident in his own self-identity. He did not hesitate to cause offense or to be considered disreputable. Jesus, though strong enough to take on the authorities in verbal jousts, was not afraid to appear to be weak and vulnerable -both in public and in private. At the last he faced with courage and confidence the humiliation of arrest and crucifixion rather than compromise his values.

Jesus demonstrated that authority and honour did not lie in externals and that it was not dependent on the good opinion of others. He showed us that true honour lies in self assurance, integrity, loyalty and faithfulness and that the only opinion that ultimately matters is that of God.

May we have the courage to do and be likewise.

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A matter of moral fibre

July 11, 2015

Pentecost 7

Mark 6:14-29

Marian Free

In the name of God who transcends both time and place and yet is ever present. Amen.

John the Baptist is something of an enigma. He provides an introduction and a foil for Jesus. He precedes the latter and prefigures Jesus. Yet despite his obvious importance, Jesus says that the least in the kingdom of God is greater than John (Luke 7:28, Matt 11:11). As I have said on previous occasions, John appears to have been a source of embarrassment for the early Jesus’ followers who are keen to diminish his significance. Luke carefully crafts the introduction to the third gospel to suggest that John’s role is to point towards Jesus and that while the births of both men have supernatural overtones, Jesus is clearly the superior of the two. This emphasis is continued in the narratives of Jesus’ baptism – John doesn’t mention it at all, Luke almost skips over it and Matthew suggests that it only happened at all because Jesus insisted (Matt 3:13-15).

That John was an historical figure seems to be without doubt and that he had followers at the time of Jesus and beyond is unquestionable. Not only does John have to be accounted for by the gospel writers, but the Jewish historian mentions his death in Jewish Antiquities 18:116-19). By all accounts John was an uncomfortable figure. His style of life and his preaching were confronting. His style of dress, choice of lifestyle were hardly conventional and John’s practice of baptism directly critiqued the sacrificial tradition of the Temple in Jerusalem implying as it did that forgiveness could be obtained outside the Temple cult[1].

John was a threat, not only to the religious traditions of the time, but also to the political stability of the nation. Herod had a number of reasons to be alarmed by John’s presence and preaching that had nothing to do with Herod’s personal life. According to Crossan: “what is most explosive about John’s (baptismal) rite is that people cross over into the desert and are baptised in the Jordan as they return to the promised land” (231). Whether or not this was a deliberate inference on the part of John, it certainly had parallels to other movements that “invoked the desert and the Jordan to imagine a new and transcendental conquest of the Promised Land” (op cit 232). In what was already a politically volatile situation, Herod had every reason to be anxious about a man considered to be a prophet, who drew large crowds to him and who played on the imagery of the desert and the Jordan.

Josephus record of John’s death is very different from that of today’s reading. “Eloquence that had so great an effect on mankind (sic) might lead to some form of sedition, for it looked as if they would be guided by John in everything that they did. Herod decided therefore that it would be much better to strike first and be rid of him before his work led to an uprising, than to await an upheaval, get involved in a difficult situation and to see his mistake. He was brought in chains to Machaerus [2] …… and there put to death” (Jewish Antiquities, 18:116-119).

In contrast, the Gospel tradition of John’s death not surprisingly places the emphasis on Herod’s immorality rather than his political anxiety. Though all the gospels record John’s death and the Synoptics all mention Herodias as a factor only Mark and Matthew provide the detail of the dinner, the daughter’s dance and Herod’s rash promise to give her whatever she desires.

We know then that Herod put John to death, but the actual circumstances surrounding that death cannot be determined with any degree of certainty.

Josephus emphasises the political threat to Herod’s hold on power. The gospels stress not only Herod’s insecurity, but also his immorality and his weakness. It was “because of his oath and his guests” that Herod acceded to his “daughter’s” request. In a culture that was governed by principles of honour and shame, Herod could not afford to lose face. So, whether or not he himself had qualms about the execution, he was honour bound to keep his promise. To have not done so would have been to lose both credibility and status, something that he could not afford either socially or politically.

The desire to gain and to hold on to power can often lead to the abandonment of moral principles and the adoption of violence towards any threat or opposition. History has shown over and over again that Herod was not unique. Despotic or insecure rulers can be ruthless, cruel, oppressive and unjust in their efforts to maintain their position of strength. (In very recent times we have witnessed the violent suppression of popular movements – especially in the Middle East.)

In the gospels, John’s unwarranted death at the hands of Herod sets the scene for Jesus’ crucifixion – an innocent man will be executed by a representative of Rome; Jesus, like John, will be seen as a threat to the Empire and especially to Pilate’s hold on power: Pilate will be swayed by the crowds just as Herod’s actions were influenced by the presence of his guests.

It is not just those in power who sometimes feel a need to do whatever it takes to hold on to that power, or to retain the respect of their supporters. Many of us are guilty at some time or another of behaving in ways that protect the image of ourselves that we wish to present to the world. It can be embarrassing to admit that we have made a mistake and humiliating to have our position at work, (in the community) undermined. So we cover up our errors or lay the blame elsewhere. We behave in such a way that will ensure the regard of others – sometimes at the expense of someone else.

Today’s gospel does not come with an obvious message, but read in this way, it challenges us to consider our own behaviour and calls us to examine our own integrity. As followers of Jesus, we are called to see weakness as strength, to put ourselves last, to be indifferent to societal measures of status and power and to seek the values of the kingdom rather than the values of this world.

[1] Crossan, John, Dominic. The Historical Jesus: The Life of a Mediterranean Jewish Peasant. San Francisco: Harper Collins Publishing, 1991, 235.

[2] The Franciscan Archeological Institute has details of the fortress on its website: http://www.christusrex.org/www1/ofm/fai/FAImachr.html

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