There we were, just in from the wedding, standing in line at the reception hall to pick up that cute little pink and white placeholder – the one with our calligraphied names on it, and with a little number next to it. Of course the number never means anything. As we all know, given the varied constellations reception table arrangements take, table number one could be next to the kitchen and table 17 might be the head table.

So we walk into the hall trying to find the table numbers, which usually fight a losing battle with the centerpieces, but after a few minutes of scouting, there it is! Hmmm, we wonder, how close is it to the head table? The bar? The restrooms? What’s it mean to be assigned to sit at this table and not another? Then, who else is at the table? Is it empty? Will it stay empty? Who’s going to join us - The Cool Cats, or someone’s smelly uncle? And what were they thinking by putting us with them?

Few social customs have withstood the test of time, remaining just as tricky for the ancients as they are for us, as that delicate business of who sits where! Ask any bride, mother of the bride or wedding consultant and they will tell you how stressful making seating assignments can be. Where one sits shows status and power. It denotes accessibility, social rank, and affection. Arranging seats at a big dinner is much more than simply putting people in chairs.

In this Sunday’s Gospel reading Jesus uses table etiquette to say something important about God. Jesus is invited to dinner at a religious leader’s house. He notices the guests jostling for the best seats and he makes a few comments. First, when you’re invited to dinner don’t assume you’re better than anyone else. And second, when you invite others to dinner, don’t assume they’re better than anyone else.

It’s not that Jesus wants to do away with class, rank and stature – it’s that He wants to put it all in context. One of humanity’s primal struggles is with significance. Our deepest, most strenuous endeavors have to do with our desire to see ourselves and our children do better, be better, and succeed. God knows this – and we forget this. We fail to realize that no one wants better for us than the Lord. As the Psalmist says, the Lord rejoices in the joy of His children.

Jesus is telling us that this joy is not found in social climbing and class jumping, no matter what the Real Housewives of Paducah have to say about it. It is found in God, where the kingdom etiquette of generosity, humility, charity, and altruism trump political cunning and self-promotion. The struggle for earthly status is a fool’s errand, especially when it keeps us from cultivating kingdom etiquette.

So we ask ourselves, how are we nurturing the values of generosity, humility and self-giving? In what ways can we work to value and respect the dignity of every human being?

Reading
What Every Church Member Should Know about Poverty – Ehlig/Payne
Changing the Conversation – Anthony Robinson
Wild Swans – Jung Chang