“Where to Sit?” 
                                                Luke 14: 1, 7-14

  In July 2001 I boarded an airplane in DC for a flight to Tulsa, Oklahoma. I had mixed feelings as I walked to my seat and fastened my seat belt. I was going to Tulsa to attend the wedding of the son of close friends; my son JJ was a groomsman. To be sure a wonderful occasion but unfortunately, Lynn could not go and I was, therefore, going alone. Because of the press of work, I arrived late in Tulsa on Friday night and was not able to attend the rehearsal dinner. The next day – the day of the wedding -- we had a few hours before the service so I drove around Tulsa with JJ, who had arrived separately from New York. After the wedding service I hung around for the obligatory photos as I had a rental car and JJ and some of the wedding party needed a ride to the country club where the reception was to be held. Ultimately, we arrived late and I walked to the dining room where everyone had gathered. As I looked out over the huge room I realized that there were only two tables with the others from Washington. Everyone I knew was at one of those tables or at the head table where the bridal party sat and there was no room left for me.
            I was annoyed and frustrated. My good deed in staying at the chapel to transport some of the wedding party to the reception had resulted in my being shut out from sitting where I wanted. I was now going to have to join a table of non-Washingtonians -- most likely folks from Tulsa – I thought, “I won’t  have anything to talk about with them.” Moreover, there were important people at the two DC tables; it would not simply be more comfortable to eat with them but also professionally beneficial for me.  I then  slowly realized  I would just have to accept my fate  and go to one of the tables and eat with strangers, which I did.
            Of course, the people there turned out to be ignorant, obnoxious and rude -- all my fears were proven correct. Just kidding – the people at the table I joined were warm, gracious and extraordinarily interesting. It was a special treat for me to converse with them.
            This experience – not necessarily one of my finest hours --comes back to me every time I read or hear today’s passage from Luke. I can’t help but think that it was intended for me. It is an interesting passage. On one level it is a like a biblical “Miss Manner’s” column on the etiquette of entertaining. The helpful pointers include: choose the place where you sit wisely -- lest you put yourself in an embarrassing position. And second, think about who you invite to dinner. The so-called important people might not be the best company and besides there is no guarantee they will invite you to their next party any way.
            But, of course, it is more than an etiquette lesson. It is a   parable -- God is the host and the banquet is the ultimate heavenly one that Jews imagined was their reward at the end of time for a faithful life. The core of the passage is in the words of verse 11, “for all who exalt themselves will be humbled and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” It is about sin. I can see you thinking but it never mentions sin or doing evil or bad things -- and you are right. Sin you see is not really about doing evil or things we would call bad – though these actions are sinful. Sin is being disconnected from God. 
            A broken relationship with God stems from two things: first, is not understanding or knowing God. The guests at the banquet thought that there was a place of honor in the eyes of the host. That somehow sitting nearer the head of the table was crucially important. Truth is that for God our prestige and status are not critical. All of the guests no matter where they sit are of equal importance and may be asked to move forward. Indeed, status and material trappings may be negatives. Here I think is the second lesson.  The danger for us in pursuing such things as status and material goods is that they become our idols. While we may pay lip service to the importance of faith in God, the pursuit of these material trappings becomes our real focus. Why because we place ourselves at the center of existence. We feel pumped up by the accumulation of things and power. I am more important than he is – I have a more important job, get paid more -- the list goes on. We pursue these things to elevate ourselves and with each new accumulation we risk moving further not nearer to God; we risk separating ourselves from God and what is truly important.
            So what is the alternative?  We should be humble, Jesus tells us. But what is humility? It is not being weak or always deferring to others. To be humble does not mean allowing oneself to be used or abused. Humility is more about what motivates our actions and what we seek by them. The guests at the banquet are criticized for seeking the best seats because they do it to curry favor -- to elevate themselves at the expense of others. There are times, however, when seeking a special seat is not about self exaltation. When Rosa Parks took a seat at the front of that bus in Birmingham, she didn’t do it to aggrandize herself. She did it because she was tired but more she did it for others -- for all the black women in Birmingham who labored all day and often were made to stand so late arriving whites could sit. She did it to affirm that all of God’s children white and black where equal in God’s eyes. Humility is not passivity or disengagement -- it is about being motivated by things larger than ourselves.  Do we really believe that God cares whether we drive a BMW or a Suzuki? But I do think God cares that we share our resources with those who have   little. I think God cares about what we do with our time, talent and resources.
            Let me return to the last chapter of my Tulsa story. The main course of the meal was over. The waiters and waitresses were clearing the table in advance of the cake cutting. Out of the blue the mother of the groom -- a very close friend -- appeared at my table. She took me aside and said,  “I noticed that you had to sit apart from all the other Washingtonians and I was worried.” Now, it may have been that she was worried that I had been unleashed on the nice folks from Tulsa -- though what she said was she worried that I was isolated. I quickly told her that it had turned out to be a fortunate occurrence as my tablemates were great. At this point she said, “Well, I want you to meet someone at my table. I know you have been thinking about leaving the law to study for the ministry and amazingly I just met this guy at my table, who has just done that.  I know you will want to talk with him.” Truth was I wasn’t sure of that – my future plans were uncertain and I really didn’t want to discuss my musings with a stranger from Tulsa. But being polite and a well brought up PK or Preacher’s Kid, I said “sure”.
            And so I was escorted across the ballroom to another table. As I was introduce to this other guy, the band began to play very loudly and I did not get his name and he apparently did not get mine. Our conversation began nonetheless and he described going -- to of all places  -- Harvard Divinity School, having left a litigation partnership with a large Tulsa law firm. He was, he said, now back in Tulsa doing ministry and law. As he got into it, he began to tell me about the challenges of ministry. At this point I couldn’t help myself and I interrupted to say that I had a pretty good  idea of the life of a minister as my father had been one. The other man paused and looked at me for an uncomfortably long time and then out of the blue he said “your father wasn’t Dr. Lenhart in Des Moines?” I respond, “He was.” At which point he reached his hand out and said, “I’m Doug Inhofe -- you and I were best friends in 8th grade. As the words sunk in and I looked closer, I did, indeed, recognize him.
            At that point our conversation took a turn as we caught up on our lives. From that moment Doug became a resource for me as I thought about a career change – and even more when I decided to go to Harvard. He gave me the lay of the land there – what professors to take, who to avoid like the plague. Invaluable stuff! And we kept tabs on each other thereafter. He didn’t go into parish ministry full time but returned to trial work serving a Unitarian church  in that area part-time. He has found peace in his dual career.
            Of course, none of this would have happened, if I had been able to get a seat at the right table and in the right place. When we let go of such desires I do believe good things happen. For sure not what we always expect--  but  as   Jesus’ promises -- when we let go, when we humble ourselves, we will be exalted in God’s eyes and our lives will be richer. Amen