Twenty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time
Luke 14:1; 7-14
The nomadic peoples of the ancient Middle East considered it a serious moral duty to offer nourishment and protection for travelers passing their way. The heat of the day, coupled with the scarcity of food and water, were themselves life-threatening. Travelers weakened by a lack of nourishment were also easier prey for robbers. In Genesis 18, we see how Abraham sees three travelers passing by “in the heat of the day”. He runs to them and practically begs them to honor him by letting him serve them food and drink. After Abraham’s generous hospitality, one of his guests is revealed as the Lord himself, who in turn blesses Abraham with what can easily be seen as an act of hospitality, assuring him that he would finally have a son by that time next year. Thus, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob are in the Promised Land, not as owners but as nomadic wanderers who live in the Lord’s land. They are to trust in the Lord’s hospitality to them and to show that same hospitality to others. They live as outsiders, seemingly with no status in this land, yet they are the ones whom the Lord welcomes.
We can easily view the entire story of salvation history from the perspective of hospitality. After the Israelites settled in Egypt, the Egyptians became most inhospitable to them. The Lord frees the Israelites while commanding them to welcome the stranger since they, too, were strangers in Egypt but were welcomed (saved) by the Lord. The word ‘stranger’ was broadly interpreted. It meant not only foreigners who lived among the Israelites. The Israelites were not to put stumbling stones in front of the blind nor shout curses at the deaf. All were to be welcomed as the Lord had welcomed them.
Many of the Psalms speak of this trust in the Lord’s hospitality. When the speaker in Psalm 23, for example, says to the Lord, “You spread your table before me, in the sight of my foes”, we usually think of the speaker as an individual with personal enemies who yet trusts in the Lord. We can also see the speaker as Israel (or, by extension, the Church), surrounded by enemies of various kinds but always trusting in the generosity of its host, the Lord.
Many of the failures of the Israelites in later centuries stemmed from the refusal to acknowledge that the land was the Lord’s and that He was their host, which was naturally accompanied by the refusal to treat others (especially people with little perceived social worth) with the hospitality that the Lord had shown Israel in the first place.
We see this theme continue in the New Testament. Many of Jesus’ words and actions in the Gospels are in the context of meals. Several of Jesus’ parables are also set in the context of meals. They all point to the Father as host and to Jesus, the Son, as the Bridegroom of the wedding feast. Each story tells us something of what it means to have the Father as our host and Jesus as the Bridegroom. When Jesus sends His disciples out on mission and tells them to bring no food and little else, that is because they are to trust the generosity of the Father, their host, and believe that they will encounter people who will meet their needs for nourishment and housing.
In St. Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, we meet more examples of this. The Corinthian Christians are seeking worldly status and, as a result, are becoming divided among themselves and insensitive to the members of their own community with less worldly status. The fact that this happens even during the celebration of the Eucharist is particularly telling. Paul sees it as a refusal to recognize the Body. This refers not only to the Presence of Christ in the Eucharist but to our calling to acknowledge the Lord as the One who brings His people together, shows them hospitality, and then calls on them to extend that same hospitality to each other and to others. It is not for nothing that we often call the Blessed Sacrament the Host.
There is no one word in the Old Testament for hospitality, but the Greek New Testament has a word – philoxenia – which means a love of strangers. We can contrast this to a more modern term – xenophobia – the fear of strangers or of anyone who is different in some way.
With this background, we can look at the Gospel reading for this Sunday. Note that the Gospel reading for Sunday begins at Luke 14:1, but then skips a few verses and then includes vs. 7-14. The missing verses, probably left out to keep the reading relatively short, nevertheless add to our understanding of the whole passage so I will include them in my remarks.
The setting is, once again, a meal. Jesus has been invited to dine at the house of a prominent Pharisee. Everyone there is watching Jesus closely to see how He will behave. They assume that their behavior is correct and that Jesus is the questionable one. Yet, the setting clues us in that Jesus will take on the role of Host and have something to say to everyone at the dinner (and to us).
In verse 2, we are told that a man with dropsy is in front of Jesus. If this man is in front of Jesus, he is not at table. He is not an invited guest nor is he welcomed as such. He is placed there in front of Jesus as a test to see what Jesus will do. The meal is on a sabbath. Will Jesus heal this man or not? The host and guests at this meal have no hospitality for this man with dropsy. He is, to them, what we might call ‘clickbait’. Nothing more. Jesus acts as the true Host of this man with dropsy. He heals him physically, and then offers him a social healing. Jesus sends him away because this group is not this man’s true community. He is not welcome there. He needs a community that is faithful to the true Host.
Then, we are told, the guests are all jockeying for the most honorable seats at table. Apparently, the guests were waiting for the “man with dropsy show” to be done before making their play for the best seats. Jesus’ response to them, if seen out of context, could be understood as simply one more way to game the system: pretend to be humble so that your host can honor you more. This is not what Jesus means, given the context above. All the guests are challenged to seek no more worldly status than the man with dropsy had. Rather, they are to accept the status given them by the true Host, the Lord, on the Lord’s terms.
This is further clarified by Jesus’ remarks to the host of this meal. He tells them not to use usual worldly or social status standards to determine who to invite to a meal. He is to use the standards of the true Host of every gathering – the Lord. Therefore, Jesus tells the host, invite people with little or no social standing. Trust that your status is already give you by the true Host. Give that same status to all, but especially to those whom the world does not value.
What can we in our own day learn from this? We are all guests of the Lord. He is the true Host whenever we gather for Mass (especially) or for any good purpose. We, as Catholic Christians, are called to model our own hospitality on that which we have been given by the Lord. How do we do so? Do we do so?
As a means of looking at this, I recall being part of a tour of a small Catholic church in a southern state. We were told that, for many years, black Catholics could come in but had to sit in the choir loft. Only white Catholics could sit on the main level. This example typifies one temptation we all face: the “yes, but” approach. “Yes, we’ll let you in, but on our terms.” ‘Our terms’ are not necessarily God’s terms. Usually, what we call ‘our terms’ is nothing more than the custom of those people in society we are trying to emulate or impress. But who is the true Host? What are His standards?
I look at videos and programs that seek to foster outreach and the New Evangelization. I look at otherwise excellent approaches like we see in Bishop Barron’s Word on Fire. What’s common with all of them? We usually see relatively young, healthy people presented to us. All of them have the required American smile on their faces. Whose standards are we preaching? Saint Paul does say “Rejoice with those who rejoice” but he adds “Weep with those who weep”. There’s true hospitality. Moreover, I look in vain to find examples of disabled people presented by such approaches. No autistic people. No one in wheelchairs. No one who is blind or deaf. Are we not also welcome? Does the Host not seek us out? Again, who is the Host? By whose standards do we welcome others? Are disabled people still like that man with dropsy in the Gospel story – allowed in but not given a seat at table? Our society tends to look on disabled people as atypical. In fact, people who are truly healthy in mind and body are actually atypical. That is true of any of us, if at all, for only a portion of our lives. For some of us, this image is never true. We look to the Risen Lord, whose Body still bore the scars of His Passion. Show me someone who, like Saint Paul, bears the brand marks of Christ in his or her body, and I’ll be convinced that you’re on the right track and that you honor the true Host!