August 31, 2025 at Saint Peter and Saint William Catholic Churches in Naples, FL
Sirach 3: 17-18, 20, 28-9 + Psalm 68 + Hebrews 12: 18-19,22-24 + Luke 14: 1, 7-14
I don’t know if any of you have ever had to sit at a “Head Table” when there is some big important dinner, but I find it very unpleasant. At most of those occasions, everyone else is seated at round tables, but the
“Head Table” is usually a long one with certain people sitting on one side facing out into the room. If you have to sit at the head table, there is no one to talk to except the two people on either side of you. If you have nothing in common to talk about, you’re stuck, and it makes for a long evening. Having learned that from experience, I was back home several months ago, invited to a big event that I had been part of. As soon as I arrived, ahead of most everyone else, I saw that dreaded “Head Table.” I ran up and took my name card and swapped it with someone else at one of the round tables causing a bit of confusion and even more when it was time for me to make some remarks. I started off quoting this parable.
The whole scene in this parable takes me back to Junior High School when everyone was jockeying for a seat at the “cool table.” I don’t care how old you may be, I am sure most of you remember that. You were either in or you were out. Those of us who were usually out remember it well. One of the things about privilege is that it is usually invisible to those who have it. It’s cousin, “entitlement” usually leaves one thinking that they are protected from criticism or challenge. And so it goes with this parable, because when it comes to these things in life, not much has changed since Jesus watched human behavior at that dinner to which he was invited.
He observed two things, one with regard to the guests and the other regard to the host. What he addresses to all of us and to the guests that evening is far more than behavior at that banquet. He is addressing something that is tears at the very fabric of social and communal life, competition. You know, it is a zero-sum game, competition. It undermines cooperation and solidarity. It marginalizes and excludes the vulnerable. It makes losers when there none in God’s sight. Competition has captured our way of life, and there is no place better to see what it does than the after-school and weekend events that control family life. Parents are running all over the place the moment school is out taking one child to this practice or game, and God forbid there are two children in two different leagues. The consequence is that too many children hardly know how to have fun. They are constantly comparing themselves to someone else: winners and losers. We trapped in this competitive system that is about far more than games. It affects our economy and our relationships with the whole world. It breeds resentment, and it’s dangerous.
The second observation that Jesus makes is spoken to the host as much as it is to us. It concerns the ethic of reciprocity. It was the basis of the Greek/Roman patronage system. We would like to think that it was over with the fall of that empire, but the first time we catch ourselves wondering or even daring to say out loud: “What am I going to get out it?” We know this attitude is still alive and well.
What Jesus advocates is a pattern of relationships where respect springs out of the knowledge and recognition that everyone is a child of God, looking at each other with the eyes of a loving parent who has no favorites. At the same time, Jesus puts an end to reciprocity because what we get is another chance to give. If Jesus was correct in announcing that the Kingdom of God is at hand, then we are already living in that Kingdom where God’s gracious hospitality has made a place for us not because we deserve it or earned it, but because we have come to realize how far we still are from that banquet in heaven.