Facing Crisis, Living Wisdom: Humility

7 When he noticed how the guests chose the places of honor, he told them a parable. 8 “When you are invited by someone to a wedding banquet, do not sit down at the place of honor, in case someone more distinguished than you has been invited by your host; 9 and the host who invited both of you may come and say to you, ‘Give this person your place,’ and then in disgrace you would start to take the lowest place. 10 But when you are invited, go and sit down at the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he may say to you, ‘Friend, move up higher’; then you will be honored in the presence of all who sit at the table with you. 11 For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”

12 He said also to the one who had invited him, “When you give a luncheon or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, in case they may invite you in return, and you would be repaid. 13 But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. 14 And you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”

The New Revised Standard Version Jesus Heals the Man with Dropsy

14 On one occasion when Jesus was going to the house of a leader of the Pharisees to eat a meal on the sabbath, they were watching him closely.

In May of 2015, Pope Francis issued an important piece of literature to the Catholic Church, an Encyclical on Climate Change and Inequality. In the Catholic Church, these kinds of statements from the Pope help frame perspective on issues of present need in the world, viewed through the lens of the Christian faith. In this piece, the pope critiques consumerism and irresponsible development, laments environmental degradation and global warming, and calls all people of the world to take "swift and unified global action."

While our traditions swim in separate parts of the river, our shared understanding as people of faith, in the Presbyterian Church is that God’s word informs how we act and engage the wicked problems of the world. And so it is helpful for us to tune in when other fellow Christians speak up, important to listen and see how they respond.

At the core, the call from Pope Francis and for all people who care for and steward the resources of God’s good creation is to wake up to the need for action, the need to care more deeply about this place we call our common home.

As a part of distributing this encyclical, Pope Francis also called for a global day of prayer on September 1 each year. Today, September 1, is celebrated in our denomination and many other Christian traditions around the globe as World Day of Prayer for the Care of Creation. It is a day that we set aside to be mindful of the concerns of our planet, of the created order of which we are each a part, along with all animals, plants; along with rocks, dirt, volcanoes, icebergs and atmosphere. Planets and stars, black holes and supernovas. God’s good creation, the beauty and wonder of all that we stand upon, live among, breathe and eat, enjoy and cherish as humanity. It is a day to thank God for these wonders. And it is a day to confess our complicity in their destruction. A day to pray for resolve, that we might be a part of those who help all people repent and turn our hearts back to the love of God through the love of creation.

I’ve been thinking about this day for a while now, wondering what our part is in it here at St. James.

In Bellingham, this month the city is launching a number of new initiatives to help engage issues of climate change. Proactive ways that we can collectively engage in our shared common life together as people who inhabit this beautiful place to work for its future.

So in conjunction with this, I’ve been talking for a while with our Mission and Social Action committee about how to speak of these issues from the pulpit. What is the Christian response to climate crisis? How do we advocate for action regarding such difficult, seemingly insurmountable problems?

As I say, I’ve been thinking about this for a while. How to find a way of framing a series of sermons that might link our faith, the Scriptures, and the world together and inspire us to action.

Let me share a little bit of my process.

When I plan sermon series, I use a number of different methods to think through what is important to share with our church. I look at the lectionary cycle of 3-year Sunday readings for the week and season. I think about issues that are facing us presently, for example our upcoming Stewardship campaign in October or concepts of gratitude in November around Thanksgiving. I pray that God would reveal what it is we all need to wrestle with, be challenged by, be encouraged in our faith through. What is the truth we all need to hear, within these few moments on a Sunday, what is the message of hope and agitation that we need in order to call us deeper as disciples of Christ?

So for this month, I felt drawn to work on sermons about Climate Crisis, Creation Care, and the Environment.

How about this, a series of sermons that pull content from the beautiful Creation poetry of the book of Genesis? What wonders might we find there? Or maybe looking at the rich biodiversity listed in the book of Job or the descriptions of awe and wonder throughout the Psalms? Maybe even going to the end of the Scriptures to see the picture of both destruction and restoration that the apocalyptic book of the Revelation illuminates for us.

All good avenues to explore, all in due time.

But what I’ve wrestled with is this: how does our faith hit the ground, on the street, in the midst of crisis? Is it in the reminder of the beauty and splendor of creation? Certainly. But you and I, we are spoiled with beauty and splendor in abundance in this wonderful city. We need only look outside on a Summer day like today and read from the Book of Creation all about the glory of God on display.

What we need, amidst the fear and alarming statistics, the unsettling projections of the trusted, respected, educated scientific community…what we need is wisdom. We face crisis. It is no longer in question for so many of us. We face it, soon, now. And in the face of crisis, the Christian church must seek wisdom. If the solutions were easy or didn’t require much of us, we would have already solved the problems. But wicked, complex, seemingly impossible problems — they require more of us all. They require a deeper knowing, a deeper sense, a deeper encounter with what we call wisdom.

The Bible is, thankfully, rich with wisdom literature. The Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, the Song of Solomon — all great places to look for wisdom.

But in the face of crisis, the Church has had a common source for its lifetime to draw from. In the face of fear, the Church goes to Jesus. The wisdom of Jesus. Specifically, the wisdom of Jesus found in his parable teaching, the riddles, questions, sometimes confusing and always enlivening and transformative stories of Jesus that pull life open for us.

That is what we are going to explore this month. The Parables of Jesus. Specifically, we’re going to work with the Parables of Jesus from Luke chs. 14-16. These are the texts of the three year cycle.

Alongside this, we’re hearing from the Prophet Jeremiah. Jeremiah’s prophetic writings were in anticipation and lament for the fall of Jerusalem and the impending exile of the Israelites in Babylon. It is heavy stuff, filled with sorrow at a world in crisis, a city falling apart. I hope you can hear the parallels to our world.

So what do the parables of Jesus say to us? That’s the key question for us as we examine them: If we claim Jesus as Lord, as the Son of God and the voice of God’s lovingkindness and reign on earth — doesn’t make sense that we look to his wisdom to wrestle with the struggles of today?

I’ll be honest, the parables we look at this month, on the surface, don’t look like they have much to do with climate change. That tension isn’t lost on me.

But I’ve been wondering, exploring: If this is wisdom for us, then how does it invite me, you, all of us to engage a present issue?

Maybe you’re not that sold on climate change. Or maybe you’re neck deep in the work already. Maybe your life is more acutely struggling with something else. Maybe you’re not that into Jesus.

At the core of what I’m asking us to attend to this month is the question of, “If Jesus is Lord, then how does his way of life call us to interact with any of the wicked problems and life circumstances we face? And in particular, how can his wisdom teach us to act in a common, shared problem that we face in our world with the destruction of climate?”

Ok. Let’s turn to this parable.

Jesus poses this parable in the context of the religious leaders of the day and the challenge of healing someone on the Sabbath, the day of rest.

Hearing the truth and wisdom in parables requires us to sit with them for a time. I invite you to hold this teaching in silence for a moment after it is read.

The New Revised Standard Version Jesus Heals the Man with Dropsy

14 On one occasion when Jesus was going to the house of a leader of the Pharisees to eat a meal on the sabbath, they were watching him closely.

The New Revised Standard Version Humility and Hospitality

Humility and Hospitality

What does this say to us today?

Hearing

Hopefully you hear some fairly straightforward teaching on hospitality and place and position in community. One surface reading of this text would remind us to consider what our place is at the table with others.

Think about it even today — we will eat at the Lord’s table in a moment. Our invitation to the table does not come with position or prominence. All are welcomed, there is no seat of honor, only places of humble reception of the gifts of God. That is how we are structured, how we practice our faith, how we believe the family of God is to serve one another.

If you need to run up to the table first, because you are starving for the grace which we receive, you are welcome to. And if you feel the need to linger and come slowly, you are welcome to. You are welcome to come as you are.

With this in mind, think again about who Jesus is talking to and how he instructs them. He’s been invited to a meal in the house of a leader of the Pharisees to eat a meal on the sabbath, under their watchful eye. This is a formal meal, a meal with rules and power and a right way to attend. Where you choose to sit impacts how people perceive you — so Jesus would have all kinds of opportunity to claim power, or…as we know he does…to deflect it and open up the invitation to the table much wider.

At the core, I am convicted that this parable tells of humility in community. To be humble as we receive the invitation. To not think of ourselves more highly than we ought, and, as the second part of Jesus’ teaching shows, open up the table not just to our rich friends and relatives, but to the crippled, the poor, the lame and the blind. Those who cannot repay us, to humbly make space for them at our tables, in our churches, in the world so that they might have a chance at a morsel, a grace, a bit of hope.

So how does this parable teach us about the anxieties we feel about our global climate, the destruction of the rain forests, the loss of ice caps, the fear of areas becoming uninhabitable, coastlines being destroyed?

Directly, it says nothing. It’s about etiquette and humility in community.

But are we so quick to dismiss Jesus’ truth?

First off, this parable teaches me that I must be humbled in what I think is my position, my knowledge, my insight, my problem solving or problem denying. People like me, with power, might think its best that we claim the place at the table where we are heard, where our voice carries and others will listen to what we think. But what I’m invited to in this text is to be caught, humbled, slowed down, and perhaps cautioned to let others speak before me. I realize, I don’t know the answers. I’ll admit I’m not the most knowledgable person in the room about climate change or the complex global work that must be done to mitigate its threat. I’m humbled, because while I’ve been clamoring to be in the first place, the ones who might truly guide us forward, they have been pushed aside.

Global leaders gather at enormous tables, adorned with flags and surrounded by cameras. They have places of position and power. There is a pecking order, a who’s who, a sense of entitled knowledge.

But…what if Jesus’ teaching is inviting us to open the table to less likely voices? Perhaps the children. Take, for instance, Greta Thunberg, the 15 year old Swedish girl who has made her way into the spotlight the last couple of years for her matter-of-fact way of speaking about issues of climate change and the need for action on behalf of other young people like her.

A girl like Greta doesn’t belong at the table — right? She doesn’t have enough perspective, she’s too young, she can’t really understand the problems we face, we can’t listen to her, right?

Picture that awkward moment at the banquet table, when you’ve sat down in the seat of position and power and your host has to come over and whisper in your ear to move down, because someone else needs that spot.

What if so many of us are holding onto our own certainty and privilege and perspectives on how it should be that we are mistakenly sitting in the wrong spot, holding back someone like Greta from speaking truth, from offering us grace and possibility with a fresh word? What if we need to find humility again to listen, to invite the other, the younger, the new voice in?

You can see, this parable doesn’t have to focus only on one place of ethical, Kingdom of God action. The wisdom of Jesus can launch us right smack dab into the middle of the more complex issues, like climate crisis or the plight of refugees or gun violence or greed — the words of Jesus teach a more excellent way in all of life and, therefore, we are offered a way to interact with all of life through the lens of Jesus’ words.

Who are you in this parable? Have you claimed the seat of power? Are you the guest who has the awkward moment? Are you proud of your position or afraid you don’t belong? Hear Jesus’ abundant invitation.

Here’s what I think we need to hear today: We face a crisis, clearly. Will we be humble enough to admit our own inability to address it alone? Will we open up the table, listen well, give up our place, for the sake a greater feast, a restored world, and move deeper into God’s abundant love by doing so?

Will we?

Let us pray we will.

Related Media

Related Sermons