CIRCLE OF JOY

Psalm 81

Luke 14:7-14

Stephen Hamilton Wright

First Presbyterian Church, Wausau, Wisconsin                                           29 August 2010

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            Welcome back to the sanctuary!  We have been worshipping in the smaller air-conditioned chapel and parlor at the other end of the building for about seven weeks, and now we are back here for the fall.  Something interesting happens every year when we shift back and forth.  When we move to the chapel, people find different places to sit.  When we come back here, most people go back to their usual seats.  In the Gospel reading today, Jesus talks about the seating chart.  So--if you are sitting in the same place you sat at the start of summer, before we moved to the chapel, raise your hand.  Now, raise your hand if you found your normal pew marked with a “Reserved” sign.  Okay, here’s your chance: you are invited—everyone is invited—to ignore the Reserved signs and move into those rows, or anyplace else you want.  Go ahead.

Welcome to the good seats.

            We like to choose our own places.  We like to pick our own places, don’t we?  Some have specific reasons: hearing better in certain spots, taking kids to the bathroom or nursery, or sitting way in back to hide from the preacher.  It isn’t really based on a system of merit; sitting way up front is not reserved for the biggest givers or the most righteous, and sinners are not confined to the back.  There is a certain feeling of privilege to our arrangement, though.  Did you feel a moment of confusion, or even irritation, about finding your normal spot either reserved or occupied?  After all, that is YOUR seat, for whatever reason you chose it, and you found it taken away from you, for no obvious reason, and we don’t like uncertainty, or arbitrary changes.  We don’t like being pushed around, and certainly when there is no explanation.  Now, I have a confession about this shifting around this morning.  This was a risky trick to pull, because if too many people are in different places, it confuses me while I’m preaching.  I’m not the only preacher who feels that way, either.  We see you in certain spots, and that’s where we expect you to be.  If half of you on my left shifted to the other side, or everybody moved to the front half of the room, I would get very disoriented.  You see, it isn’t only our own place that’s important.  Our situation is shaped in relation to other people.  Have you ever gone into a classroom or meeting—or church—and chosen your place based on where someone else was already sitting?  Maybe you sat close, or maybe you sat on the other side.  We want to pick our own location, because that shapes how we experience life.  We want to choose where to sit.

            Hang on, though.  We are not in control.  We cannot control everything that happens around us.  We can respond and react more or less well, and we can work to make the circumstances we face as predictable as possible, but we cannot ever be absolutely certain about how things will turn out.  Remember trying to get to church last Sunday?  Getting to church is never a problem--unless there happens to be a snowstorm, street construction, or a benefit race that blocks traffic out of the whole downtown section.  Nor can we be certain about relationships.  If there is an in-group and an out-group, there can also be an inner circle of the in-group, and within that inner core, there might be even a smaller group whose priorities shift.  You may have earned VIP status, and wake up one day to discover that you are last week’s news.  You might go to a party and find that you aren’t quite the center of attention anymore.  Some new talent or the latest trend at work has pushed in front of you.  It happens, so if you are one of those who suddenly gets moved up to the best seat, beware.  It feels good at the time, and others might envy you, but be careful.  As much as we try to secure our places in life, it isn’t completely up to us.  A year ago, being the CEO of BP seemed like a pretty good situation, right?  And many people know the experience of a sudden unexpected medical diagnosis that changes everything, including the nature of very close relationships.  Life is uncertain.  We do not always get to choose our circumstances or location.  We are not completely in control.

            There is one sure thing.  We can count on God.  We can count on God.  We can also count on every relationship that depends on God.  We are not in control here, either—of course not!—but we are very sure of God’s continuing love for us.  That is because God does not sort people into in and out, hot and not.  There are no borders around God’s love, no disqualifiers based on talent, money, race, nationality, or sex.  In the culture around Jesus, there were strict expectations about who could be invited to certain events or seen in particular places.  Women were not invited to banquets with men.  Slaves were not invited anywhere.  Only Jews could go to the inner court of the Temple.  Our divisions are less formal, but we have them.  The most obvious barrier in most American churches is financial.  There are also ideological boundaries, and barriers based gender and sexuality.    So Jesus told a little story that shattered ancient expectations.  First, He changed the seating chart, then He completely rewrote the guest list.  He said to reach across that economic gap to invite people who might not know how to act at a fancy banquet.  Invite people who aren’t very attractive, and others who need help getting around in their walkers and wheelchairs.  The list should include all the people who normally get left off because of the categories we build around them.  God does not disqualify anybody.  Instead, God values everyone and invites everyone to share equally in the honor of being included.  That’s what rearranging the chairs is all about.  God includes everybody.  We can count on it.

            So, share the love.  Share the love that Jesus shows us.  Be generous.  Reach beyond your circle.  I don’t think Jesus meant never to invite your friends or neighbors who might then play host to you in return.  He did mean reach out.  Widen the circle.  Make friends with people outside your social class, outside your faith, outside your ethnic group, interest group, and political party.  As you go through life, make sure that some of your decisions are designed to benefit people who will never make it to your level of success.  The love of God is both generous and inclusive.  We believe that God loves and cares for us, right?  But surely we don’t believe we are equals with God, or with Jesus.  So, hear the message: if you want to do something good, include people who can’t pay you back.  What you will find, very often, is that you feel humbled and more than paid back in the joy you see in response, and the wisdom that comes from those who live with less.  You may covet the ability to live happily with so much less, if only you could make that shift.  You might not shift; we like our creature comforts, after all.  But we can share.  We can share a lot.  I’ve realized just in the last few years that one of the great examples my parents have taught me is generosity: generosity toward family, church, neighbors, schools, organizations, everything that goes to make the community better.  Think about family: you will never get back more than a fraction of the money you invest in your children, if you have them, but that isn’t the point, is it?  And the way you commit to the community or the church isn’t about measurable benefits, either.  It’s about joy.  It’s about feeling something good.  The more you share, the better you feel.  Don’t do it for what you can get back.  Do what you do because it is right.  Do it because God did it first.  Follow the example of Jesus.  Share the love.