Today’s question comes in two parts. The first one doesn’t require much reflection. My question is: Have you ever bought a Texas state lottery ticket? Now the second one, which is really for those of us who have bought at least one ticket, may require a little more thought. If you have bought a ticket, what was your expectation when you bought it? Did you buy it, hoping you would win, or did you give up your dollar, believing you were really only making a contribution to the welfare of the state treasury? In other words, did you expect something in return, or did you contribute your money without an expectation of striking it big?
Most of us, I believe, buy a ticket and expect to get something back in return; and the bigger the return, the more likely we are to contribute. Looking at it another way – have you ever bought a subscription from Ed McMahon just because you had a need for the magazine, or did you hope that, just maybe, you might win ten million dollars if you paid out more than the cost of a twenty-nine cent stamp?
So what does a lottery or a sweepstakes have do to with today’s gospel reading? Am I doing even more of a stretch than usual to ask a question? I hope not! But I do admit that the focus for today’s reflection is not on lotteries or sweepstakes. Rather the focus I would offer for your reflection today is on the theme of “expectation.” What do we expect in return for what we do? In other words: why do we do, what we do?
Two thousand years ago, when a group of wealthy pharisees, leaders of the Jewish community, were invited to a Sabbath meal, they had their own set of expectations. They also did not expect certain events to occur. One of those unexpected events is recorded in Luke’s gospel, even though it was not included as part of today’s reading. Today’s reading is taken from the beginning of Chapter 14 of Luke. But the first verse is followed by verses 7 through 14. So what happened in between? What is “the rest of the story?”
“When Jesus came on a Sabbath to eat a meal in the house of one of the leading pharisees, they observed him closely. Directly in front of him was a man with dropsy. Jesus asked the lawyers and the pharisees, ‘is it lawful to cure on the Sabbath or not?’ At this they kept silent. He took the man, healed him, and sent him on his way. Then he addressed himself to them: (saying) ‘if one of you has a son or an ox and he falls into a pit, will he not immediately rescue him on the Sabbath day?” This they could not answer him.”
The gospel then says: “he went on to address a parable to the guests … “, which is the one we heard today about seeking first-place at a banquet as well as the second parable about whom to invite to a banquet.
You might very well ask several questions about this reading. First of all, where did this man with “dropsy” come from? Well, the gospel doesn’t say but the chances are that he was one of the servants. The one who was wheezing with a shortness of breath and seemed about to fall over from what, today, might be diagnosed as congestive heart failure. But no matter where he came from or what disease he might have had, the important event is that Jesus cured him on the Sabbath, that Jesus performed work on the Sabbath, an action which was outlawed by a strict interpretation of Torah. Yet Jesus asked the lawyers present whether they, themselves, would perform an act of mercy on the Sabbath? Would they rescue a son or even a valuable animal on the Sabbath? In other words, should you always avoid doing what the law forbids or should you act compassionately and save the life of a son or even a valuable animal?
What motivates you? Why do you do what you do? These are the basic questions raised in today’s gospel. When the learned lawyers and pharisees refused to give their views on such questions, Jesus, as he often did, told them a story.
That story also asked a question: where do you sit when you attend a major banquet, an affair such as a wedding party, which is not merely a simple dinner but a gathering of important people? Just like the seating at the head table of a business dinner in 1992, it was important to the pharisees, who tired at times to imitate Roman and Greek manners, just where they sat. After all, they had several choices.
The typical dinner arrangement was for there to be three couches arranged around three sides of a table: sort of like on TV where they always leave room for the camera and audience to see what’s going on. Only in the case of the Romans, Greeks and Jews, the fourth side was open to allow the servants to put the food on the table. It’s probably there, on the fourth side, where Jesus saw the waiter with dropsy.
Each of the three couches allowed for three or four people to recline on them, resting on their left arm so they could reach the low table in front of them with their right hand. Because of such an arrangement, one position on each couch was the preferred place because it gave you the best view of the other diners and allowed easy access to the food. Not only was there a best position on each couch, at the same time, one of the three couches was the best one for a good view of all of the others. It was for these favored places the men headed when they arrived at a banquet. When Jesus saw the pharisees acting like Romans, he told his story: with its conclusion that you should choose not the best place but one of the lesser ones, perhaps even the lowest, the worst position on the worst couch.
On hearing the story, you might at first think that Jesus is saying that you should act humble because if you do that, then in the end you will be exalted. But as usual, the story doesn’t end there. Jesus immediately tells a second story about banquets: a story in which he urges the pharisees to invite not those who would, in return, and in repayment, invite them to other fancy dinners, but rather to invite those, who by their position in life, could in no way, repay them.
You see, if Jesus told only the first story, the pharisees could be led to believe in false humility, of merely acting humble in expectation of being rewarded, because they appeared to be humble. But I don’t think that this is what Jesus was trying to teach them; but rather it is essential to do what you do out of love and not out of any expectation that you will be rewarded for what you do. Is he, perhaps, saying that I should choose the “lower place,” not because I expect to be bumped to a first-class seat, but rather because I choose that seat for itself?
In other words, should I not do the right thing because it is the right action to undertake rather than expecting that I will be rewarded because I have done it. Is not true humility a recognition not only of my weaknesses but also my giftedness? To say I should be on the bottom of the list, yet desiring to be on the top, can be merely false humility. But to be where I am, seeing both the good and the bad in me, is seeing my true self; and that is, “being human.” The opposite of being human, is to attempt to be divine, to be god-like. To be human, to be humble, is to recognize that I am not God, that I am not king of the hill. But that is only half the story, half of the parable.
After I know where I truly am, then is the time for me to act. To act, not in terms of expecting a reward for my action, but rather to act out of my love for others.
Why do you give flowers to your wife? Do you do it to please her, because you love her or do you do it to please yourself, to make you feel less guilty or, perhaps, in expectation that now, she will do something in return that you would like.
Why do kids clean up their rooms? Because they know they should live in clean rooms or is it because they expect something from mom and dad in return? Why do we contribute time and money to the poor, the homeless, the unwanted? Because we want to help them for themselves, in all of their poverty and being unwashed, or in expectation that this will reduce crime in the streets or earn us points in heaven?
Why do we pray? Do we hope for a reward, for some new possession or position? Do I pray with an expectation that God will respond with warm fuzzies, in answer to my prayer. Do I pray so that God is nearer to me or do I pray so that I am nearer to God?
Do we leave the fallen son or the trapped animal in the pit because we believe that we should not help them under the given constraints, or do we lift them out because of our compassion for them and not for what it may or may not do for us?
Do I buy a lottery ticket because I want to win or because this is a way to contribute to the financial needs of the state?
There is a tiny woman, a woman small in physical stature, but enormous in what she understands in the ways of the Lord; a woman who lives out the stories, the messages, the commandments we heard today; a woman who has written these words: “Whatever form we are … able or disabled … rich or poor … it is not how much we do … but how much love we put in the doing.” In our journey towards the banquet of the lord, may each one of us strive for the humanness and humility of Mother Teresa.
Twenty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time; August 30,1992
Sir 3:17-18, 10, 28029; Heb 12:18-19, 21-24a: Lk 14:1, 7-14