Luke 14:1-14

Notes for a sermon from Lk 14:1-14 - not exactly what I preached!

It's Saturday, and the guests are gathering for dinner in the courtyard of one of the most senior Jewish religious teachers. Of course the meal has been carefully prepared the day before – after all, this is the Sabbath day – the day when no-one is allowed to prepare food or do any other work. And since most of the guests are experts in religious law, it would be a terrible mistake if their host or his servants were seen doing anything illegal.

And as the guests welcome one another, sipping their wine and eating the pre-prepared nibbles, they're all looking at one guest out of the corner of their eyes because the chief Pharisee has also invited Jesus.

Some days before, the Synagogue ruler had tried & failed to catch Jesus out, and now the Pharisees were determined to catch him out and discredit him before all the people.

In Lk 14:2, there's a man who suffers from dreadful swelling of his legs – he has dropsy. But why's he there? Was he invited by the Pharisees and put before Jesus as a test? Or did he wander in off the street as was not uncommon in that culture? We don't know. But there he is. And though the Pharisees want to test Jesus, he turns the tables on them and, with the suffering man standing in front of him, he asks them, 'Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath or not?'

But they remained silent.

Well, what were they supposed to say? If one of the Pharisees dared to say it was lawful, the others would accuse him of being a raving liberal and of abandoning their laws. But if one dared say it wasn't lawful to heal on the Sabbath, he would be seen as heartless & not loving his neighbour as himself.

So, not wanting to embarrass themselves in front of their colleagues, they said nothing.

So, v4, Jesus took hold of the man, healed him, and sent him away.

Then he asked them, 'If one of you has a son or an ox that falls into a well on the Sabbath day, will you not immediately pull him out?' And they had nothing to say.

When it suited their own selfish needs, the Pharisees were very happy to 'work' on the Sabbath, but if it didn't benefit them, they excused themselves from helping others by making it unlawful. It meant that, with a clear conscience, they could ignore people in need. Worse than that, it meant that they could actually make their refusal to help others into a religious duty. The sheer hypocrisy was breathtaking.

And Jesus shows them how they have turned God's purpose for the Sabbath on its head. The Sabbath was all about life lived with and in the presence of God; life that reflected and imitated the boundless grace of God to those who didn't deserve it. But the Pharisees have excused themselves from doing what the Sabbath pointed towards. They created rules which, though they claimed honoured and upheld the Sabbath, actually excused them from exhibiting the kindness and generosity of God.

But Jesus shows the true meaning of the Sabbath by doing good, by healing, giving life, helping others – by demonstrating the extravagant love of God that transcends rules.

Yet it's always easy to criticise the Pharisees.

I remember being in a church which had a bell-ringing gallery where we have our organ loft. And when the bell-ringers had finished ringing, they all walked down through the church and headed for the exit as I was welcoming others in. 'Oh, are you off?' I said. 'Yes, we've done our bit' one of them said.

Isn't it true that we've made up a law that says, 'I only have to do so much, and when I've done it, that's my obligation met. I've done my bit for God and his church. This much and no more.'

But just as the Pharisees would find an excuse to rescue their son or ox on the Sabbath, so we find an excuse to do what we want to do rather than helping others. So we've invented the law that says, 'We all need some 'me' time'.

For many years, evangelicals (Bible-believing Christians) would refuse to do any 'work' on Sundays, claiming that this was their Sabbath. But this was misguided and all too easily became an excuse for not engaging with other people.

In the NT there is no one day that's a Sabbath. In fact, the book of Hebrews teaches us that, for Christians, every day is a Sabbath – every day is spent in the presence of the Holy Spirit of God. We don't go to the temple because we are the temple of God. Every day is for glorifying God and doing good. Every day is an opportunity to live in the kingdom of God and follow the example of Jesus.

And having one Sabbath day all too often meant one day for being holy, and 6 for being unholy – or at least, not bothering too much about God.

But even if we're not Sabbatarians, how often have we excused ourselves from further acts of love or giving or ministry by saying, 'I've done enough. I've done my bit. Now it's up to someone else'?

I know for myself that I sometimes feel like that. But do you think Jesus ever had that attitude? We never see Jesus creating rules to limit his love or ministry – in fact, back in ch13 v32, he said, 'I will drive out demons and heal people today and tomorrow, and on the third day I will reach my goal. In any case, I must keep going today and tomorrow and the next day.' Jesus won't stop ministering to others – not today, not tomorrow, not until he reaches his goal, the ultimate expression of love – his death on the cross for us sinners.

When Jesus arrived at that meal, it was the Pharisees who were watching him. Now, in v7, it's Jesus who's watching them. And as the host calls his guests to the table, Jesus sees how they scramble for the places of honour.

By fastidiously following their own religious rules, the Pharisees were able to put on an impressive show of godliness & piety. But it was only a show – pure hypocrisy. And as they scramble for the places of honour, they reveal their true selves. They each think they deserve the most honour. They piety isn't for God's honour, but their own honour and glory. And Jesus reveals their true motives by telling a parable in vv8-11.

He takes them to an imaginary wedding reception where a guest has sat himself on the top table. But then the father of the bride comes over and whispers in his ear, 'Sorry, Benjamin, you can't sit here, this is Aaron's seat. You'll have to go over there, in the corner.'

Then the father waves to Aaron, 'Hey, Aaron, come up here, this is your seat – you're next to me!'

You see, says Jesus, You may think you're someone special, and that because of what you've done, you ought to be honoured. But what matters isn't how much honour you claim for yourself, but how much the master – God himself – gives you. So it's better to have a low opinion of yourself and be offered a seat of honour than to have a high self-opinion and be humiliated.

And when Jesus talks in the future tense like this, he's referring to the eternal verdict that God himself casts on us. And we know that God honours the humble because he has honoured Jesus by raising him from the dead and seating him at his right hand on high.

In the kingdom which Jesus rules, honour is given by God, not taken by us.

If Jesus himself was despised and rejected, why do we think that we should be honoured and respected?

If Jesus had to keep going today and tomorrow and the next day, only to be rejected by his own people, why do we think our small efforts should be acknowledged with public thanks and recognition?

Surely the only approval that matters is the one that comes from God himself?

In the kingdom of Jesus, humble, committed service is the name of the game - not in order to be recognised or honoured or thanked; and not in to impress God – but because we serve a wonderful, generous God who sent his Son to die for us.

This theme of generosity is then picked up in vv12-14.

The Pharisees, it seems, had a very cosy supper club – each week they'd take it in turns to invite their little group of respectable, religious friends for supper. And in return, they'd each be invited to the others' homes. But they don't invite the poor, the crippled, the lame or the blind – 'after all, they're like that because they're sinners – God must be punishing them for their sin. So we don't want to pollute ourselves by getting mixed up with them.'

In a pretty village where I used to live, there's a row of council houses at one end of the village. In the middle of the village are the pretty old thatched cottages and the big old houses. And there's a certain group of people who talk about, 'This end of the village' and 'That end of the village'. And they wouldn't dream of asking anyone from that end to supper. 'Well, they wouldn't fit in, would they?'

That's the attitude here.

But look at who Jesus meets and welcomes:

chapter 5 – a man covered with leprosy – untouchable; a paralysed man – a sinner; and a tax collector – a traitor & a rebel.

Chapter 7 – a Roman centurion – not one of God's people; a dead boy – unclean but Jesus touches him; a sinful woman – probably a prostitute.

And that's just 2 chapters! Jesus goes to everyone and anyone.

Yes, he does eat with the Pharisees. But they reject him because they don't think they need him. They think they're good enough, thank you very much, for God. What do they need from Jesus?

And Jesus also goes to the nobodies. To those who know they need Jesus – they need him to restore their broken lives. Jesus goes to them and eats with them – he accepts them and changes their lives.

And that's the model Jesus has set before the Pharisees. But they're not interested. In fact, they're afraid. Afraid of their peers. Afraid to break their religious rules. Imprisoned in their little world of limited risk and limited reward.

And they can't see the eternal perspective – the fact that there's a reward in heaven for those who welcome as Jesus welcomed.

Of course this isn't just about inviting people for a meal, it's about welcoming people into the community of God – the church. It's about showing that just as Jesus welcomes sinners, so we welcome sinners.

We're going to see much more of this next week and beyond as we head towards one of the key verses in Luke – 15:1

Now I have to say, one of the great things about St Peter's is that we are a mixed bag of people, and we do welcome people even though they may be different from ourselves – at least, we do on a Sunday. But do we open our homes and our lives to one another in the way Jesus says we should?

Oh yes, we can all give plenty of reasons why we don't – why we can't – be more hospitable. But it seems to me that Jesus is so insistent about this that we just have to act on it.

I suspect that for many of us, the only people we ever entertain at home are our own family. But surely we could invite the people next door for coffee or a beer at the Spread Eagle? Or could be taking a neighbour shopping and buying them lunch.

On Thursday, after a bowls match, one of the men was asking if people were staying for a swift half, and I thought, 'Oh please, don't ask me...' But perhaps it would have been better if I'd said, 'Do you mind if I join you?'

Of course, if you're married to a non-Christian, it may be impossible to invite people to your home, but on the other hand, it might be a wonderful opportunity to demonstrate to your spouse how your attitudes have been transformed by Jesus.

What ever & how ever we do it, what's important is that we welcome people as Jesus welcomed us – we who didn't deserve his welcome.

But finally, we need to see that as usual, Jesus is putting life into the eternal perspective. He's reminding us that this life is not all there is – that the rewards of this life are unimportant.

And yet so often we live for rewards now – whether it be the immediate self-gratification of a cheap tv programme, or public recognition & thanks, or money, or sex, or...

Now this is not to say that enjoying being thanked & praised in this life is wrong. It's not to say that joy and laughter and pleasure in this life are wrong. But if we make them our goal, if they are our highest objective, then they've become an idol – an idol that can never satisfy us and certainly one that doesn't glorify and honour God.

In the end there's only one who can truly satisfy, and only one source of eternal joy and pleasure. The Lord Jesus himself.