Thursday, August 26, 2010

The Forfeited Table

Luke 14:1-14

For all who exalt themselves . .

Only in scripture do the worst seats of the house go to the greatest - and, conversely, the best to the least. This familiar text is not commonly believed outside church doors, if at all. Wall Street has taught us that talent moves to the top table by walking over the rest of the world. Experience has taught us that without heart, the top talent is just another version of the mad scientist squandering his brilliance on some insane delusion. But not in this house. Not in this other house that Jesus, by his outlandish behavior, has deeded out of the hands of the pharisee into the hands of God - commandeering the table of honor* as a forfeit to the kingdom of God. 

Shakespeare's Henry IV (Act 5, Scene 1) offers from the mouth of Sir John Falstaff a classic commentary on honor. Prince Henry has just enjoined Falstaff to prepare for battle in the raging civil war. The king has made his prayer that God bless his cause against the enemy. Everybody does that, of course, if they consider God to have anything to do with the enterprise. The prince has told Falstaff to say his prayers, to which Falstaff replies “I would 'twere bedtime, Hal, and all well.” The prince replies “Why, thou owest God a death.” Falstaff's rejoinder, out of earshot of the prince, is famous:

'Tis not due yet; I would be loath to pay him before
his day. What need I be so forward with him that 
calls not on me? Well, ’tis no matter; honour pricks
me on. Yea, but how if honour prick me off when I
come on? how then? Can honour set to a leg? no: or
an arm? no: or take away the grief of a wound? no.
Honour hath no skill in surgery, then? no. What is
honour? a word. What is in that word honour? what
is that honour? air. A trim reckoning! Who hath it?
he that died o’ Wednesday. Doth he feel it? no.
Doth he hear it? no. ‘Tis insensible, then. Yea,
to the dead. But will it not live with the living?
no. Why? detraction will not suffer it. Therefore
I’ll none of it. Honour is a mere scutcheon: and so
ends my catechism.

We have to laugh. From our perspective, Falstaff's catechism is hardly what we would call complete! But it's a good start for those of us who are left to pick up the pieces of this pharisee's table of honor that Jesus has summarily overturned with that same zeal he showed the moneychangers in the temple precinct.

The prince is right: we owe God a death. But not the king. Nor the leader of the pharisees. It's a question of honor, but not ours, unlike kings and brokers who carry God around like a charm bracelet for their ascent. The honor is never ours. We gave all that up with Jesus on the cross. In the meantime, since we have to live in this broken world, it's probably best to take the most dishonorable place at the table. It will look silly, of course. Downright countercultural at times. But there is a practical advantage: if you are at the bottom there is only one way to go when your name is called. And we know who this table really belongs to - the one who truly makes the call. 

* Scholarship has really honed in on the role of ancient honor codes for interpreting Jesus' ministry in the last thirty years.

© 2010 Andy Gay