Posts Tagged ‘invitations’

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. 

Saying “yes” is all it takes

October 10, 2020

Pentecost 18 – 2020

Matthew 22:1-14

Marian Free

In the name of God who invites us all to the heavenly banquet. Amen.

Some of you will know the Jane Austen novel Emma. Emma is the daughter of a gentleman, and a member of a family of property and status in her small society. Emma takes her position seriously and believes she should lead by example and maintain the distinction of rank. There are people in the village with whom she is very happy to mingle, but she has very clear ideas as to who would and would not be suitable acquaintances. Emma takes a shine to Harriet, an orphan whose origins are unknown. She is certain that Harriet is the daughter of a gentleman and is determined that Harriet learn the niceties of mixing in society and that she should marry someone who is equal to the person Emma believes her to be. 

When Harriet receives a proposal of marriage from a tenant farmer, Emma not so subtly suggests that Harriet should decline the offer – such a match would necessarily end their friendship. In a such stratified society to mix socially with someone of another (lower) class, would be to be seen to be lowering one’s standards. While such an action might not directly affect a person’s position or rank, it would cause others to look askance and to question their respect for the values and mores of the time.  While Emma could almost certainly afford to break the rules – she might be considered eccentric – her family’s position and wealth would be secure. 

Such was not the case in the equally stratified society of Jesus’ time. People, especially those of rank, were very aware of their position and very anxious to retain the respect and honour that came with it. The difference between society in the Roman Empire and that of Jane Austen’s England was that position and rank were much more tenuous – based not on a person’s birth or wealth, but on their ability to gain and to maintain honour in the eyes of their peers. Nearly every interaction was determined by notions of honour and shame and there existed strict rules of engagement to ensure that no one unintentionally challenged the honour of another.  There was only so much honour to go around. If someone wished to enhance their own place in society, they would have to do so at the expense of another.

Honour and shame lie behind the exchanges between Jesus and the chief priests and scribes in this section of Matthew’s gospel. Jesus’ opponents felt diminished by Jesus’ actions and wanted to regain their position of influence with, and power over, the people. In order to achieve this, they tried to confound Jesus by asking a difficult question. Jesus answered a question with a question and, when the chief priests and scribes were unable to answer, he pressed his advantage by telling not one, but three parables aimed squarely at them. 

In this, the last of the three parables, honour and shame are a central theme. It was not unusual for two invitations to be issued for a meal. The first invitation allowed the invitees to determine who else had been invited and to decide whether or not their honour would be enhanced or compromised by their attendance. Invitees would only attend if other guests were of equal or higher status than themselves. For unknown reasons, the guests in this parable make light of the invitation and simply go about their business.  The host is furious, he has been seriously humiliated and his honour gravely damaged by the reaction of the “invitees”. Worse, to add insult to injury, the intended guests further slight the host by seizing, beating and killing his slaves.

It is interesting and important to note the differences between the ways in Matthew and Luke record this parable. In Matthew the invitations are issued by a king. The king restores his position by violently destroying the proposed guest list. In their place he invited people of no consequence at all – good and bad alike  – a further injury if the intended guests had been alive to see it. In contrast, Luke’s host is just “someone”, the guests make flimsy excuses for not attending, the slaves are not killed, and the guests are not destroyed. Those invited instead are, first of all, the poor, the crippled, the blind and the lame – again an insult to the original guest list but consistent with Luke’s emphasis on God’s preference for the poor.

The differences between the two evangelists are significant. They reveal the agendas of Luke and Matthew. While both suggest that outsiders, not the invited, will be the guests at the banquet, Luke sets the parable in the context of a dinner at which Jesus is encouraging humility. Matthew includes the parable in the debate between Jesus and his opponents in Jerusalem. The violence in Matthew’s account (absent in Luke) fits with the earlier parable of the vineyard and suggests that Matthew is providing a short history lesson about Israel’s rejection of God’s agents and is looking ahead to the destruction of Jerusalem. 

In this, the third parable directed against the chief priests and scribes, Matthew’s Jesus makes it clear that in refusing to accept him the chief priests and scribes are refusing God’s invitation to be a part of the kingdom. That being the case, God will give the vineyard to others and welcome outsiders to the banquet. 

Put together, the three parables in this section are a warning that we should not become complacent or to take for granted our place in the kingdom. Taking the vineyard for ourselves or being too proud to accept the invitation to the banquet demonstrate a failure to understand that our salvation depends – not on what we do bu on what God does for us. They remind us that it is God (not us) who will determine who does and does not belong and tell us that if we rely on ourselves and on what we do and do not do, we demonstrate our independence from God and are in grave danger of being oblivious to or ungracious in regard to God’s invitation. 

Our salvation relies not on anything that we (or anyone else) has done, but rather on what God has done for all humankind. Our primary responsibility is not to come to our own conclusions (about ourselves or others) but to humbly and gratefully accept the invitation to be a part of the kingdom – that the rest will take care of itself.