Luke 14:1-14                                                                          “The Upside Down Kingdom of God”

Sept. 2, 2007                                                                                       By Rev. Kathy McDowell

 

Today’s scripture reading strikes right at the heart of what it means to be Christian. 

V. 11 sums it up.

Those who exalt themselves will be humbled,

and those who humble themselves will be exalted.

Those who are last will be first.  

There are all kinds of ways to get this point across. 

 

There is a story told of one church where on a cold Sunday morning,

as everyone started coming in the building from the parking lot,

there was someone rather unusual out there with them. 

Just outside the front door, around the corner,

and sitting up against the wall was a man. 

His clothing was stained, and he had rolled his body up in a long, tattered trench coat. You couldn’t see his face, because he had a stocking cap

pulled down over his head and most of his face to keep out the wind. 

He was asleep, or at least appeared to be.    

Only a few brave souls from the congregation wandered near him to check him out,

and no one bothered to invite him in. 

 

But it was Sunday a.m., and time for church to begin.  

Everyone was waiting for the minister to come in as usual. 

But then, the doors to the church opened and in came the homeless man,

walking down the aisle with his head down.

People whispered and wondered what to do. 

The man made his way down the aisle and then up onto the pulpit

where he took off his hat and coat. 

It was then that the congregation realized that the homeless man was their minister.  

 

It’s a pretty good story. 

But there is something about this story that bothers me, because it feels like a trick. 

I’m not so sure we learn things by being tricked. 

This story also feels like the preacher is judging everyone else. 

It’s almost as if he is saying “serving the poor is your problem”

instead of “serving the poor is our problem.”

The truth is that serving the poor is everyone’s problem, mine included. 

Because if we are to be the hands and feet of Christ in the world,

we are going to have to put ourselves outside the church

sometimes in some very uncomfortable settings.

Jesus was always in these uncomfortable settings during his years of ministry. 

He had arguments with the religious establishment. 

His ministry clashed with the status quo. 

What else could we expect from a guy who started his job as the messiah

by going to the synagogue and reading this

from the scroll of Isaiah in ch. 4 in Luke’s gospel.  

“The spirit of the Lord is upon me,

because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor,

he has sent me to proclaim release to the captives, and recovery of sight to the blind,

to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”  

 

That is some job description. 

The people who are to hear the good news from Jesus are not the in crowd -

They are the outcasts -  the poor, the captives, the blind, the oppressed. 

It sounds a lot like the invitation list to the banquet from today’s scripture reading:

the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind - in other words - the outcasts.

 

In today’s scripture reading, which actually has two parts, the setting is important.  

Jesus is on his way to have dinner at the house of one of the leaders of the Pharisees. Most of the time we hear the word “Pharisee”

and we automatically think “hypocrite” or “legalist.” 

But the Pharisees were not so much hypocrites or legalists

as they were devoutly committed to keeping God’s laws,

down to the very smallest details about life.

 

These details, ranging from how to keep the Sabbath to keeping holy places holy,

were an important part of Jewish identity.  

 

The only trouble was that over the centuries this devotion to God in Jewish law,

which was good, had superseded another good,

compassion for the poor, and the sick, the outcasts. 

another very important part of Jewish law. 

 

The first lesson from today’s scripture comes when

Jesus asks them a question. It’s a test really. 

Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath or not?  Silence is their only answer.

It was a difficult question for a Jew. 

Jewish teachers and elders had spent centuries debating this and related questions.  Sabbath keeping was a way to honor God.  

Work was to be refrained from on the Sabbath as a way of respecting God. 

The problem was that Jewish law was somewhat divided about what was work. 

You could rescue a child from a pit, but different Jewish groups took different positions about what to do with an animal that fell into a ditch. 

The law forbid helping livestock deliver their young on the Sabbath,

but you could summon a midwife for a woman to deliver a baby. 

If an illness wasn’t life-threatening, intervention was not allowed. 

 

Dropsy wasn’t life threatening and in case you’re wondering

what this man’s problem was exactly, dropsy is an older term for edema,

which we know as an abnormal accumulation of fluid. 

A medical condition that was serious,

but could wait till the doctor’s office opened on Monday a.m.

 

Still, Jesus heals the man on the Sabbath, something he has done before. 

In most settings, this thrills some of the Jews, and infuriates the others.  

His healings on the Sabbath cause him to be called

Messiah by some and blasphemer by others.

 

Those who accused him of blasphemy were stuck in the rules,

stuck doing things the way they had always done them.

So stuck they couldn’t respond to the sick and outcast among them. 

So stuck they had forgotten the greatest commandment

“Love the Lord your God and love your neighbor as yourself.”

 

But Jesus heals the man. 

And we’re told that the Pharisees - this time at least - had nothing to say. 

But Jesus had more to say.

 

If you recall the setting here, everyone is at a dinner,

at a leader’s home, more than likely a wealthy man.  

Jesus notices that everyone is looking around to get the best places, to sit by the host.

To find the table with the beautiful people, the popular folks, the in crowd. 

And Jesus tells them they’ve got their priorities all mixed up. 

He tells them not to go after the best seating places

because the host might come and tell them to move down to the lowest place.

 

At first it seems like more conventional Jewish wisdom,

because there’s a proverb that sounds just like this.

Proverbs 25:6-7

“Do not put yourself forward in the king’s presence or stand in the place of the great; for it is better to be told, ‘Come up here,’

than to be put lower in the presence of a noble.”

 

But what Jesus is teaching here goes beyond a classic Jewish proverb.

He’s not just telling guests at a banquet how to behave so you can get recognized, 

or how you can associate with the right people. 

He is turning upside down the conventional wisdom.  

 

That becomes perfectly clear when we hear

“For all who exalt themselves will be humbled

and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”  

Once again, Jesus is teaching that the core of discipleship

is the first will be last and the last will be first. 

The core of Christian faith is selfless, giving love.

 

To drive home this point, there’s one more story in today’s scripture

If we’re the host, we’re not off the hook.

We have a special obligation to open our tables to the very people

who can never reward us by their presence. 

The poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind. 

The outcasts of the community, the unclean, the unwanted,

the ones who we avert our eyes from when we walk past them on the sidewalk. 

The ones who will never be able to pay us back. 

Jesus says that our service to these outcasts brings God’s blessing, God’s reward,

which is greater than getting invited to the right dinner party.  

 

What Jesus is teaching us is God’s kingdom is an upside down kingdom,

where the last, the least and the lost ones are welcome at the Table.

 

I have to admit, this kind of kingdom vision turns our thinking upside down.

It’s not comfortable.  It stretches our vision about the purpose of the church.  

 

A couple of weeks ago, I had my own stretching experience. 

I went to a meeting with a bunch of Disciples clergy and lay leaders 

at a place called City of Refuge, just south and west of downtown Atlanta.

It is a mission church, a mission center. 

It is located in a warehouse in the worst zip code zone in the state of GA - 30314.

It has more crime, more poverty, more despair than any place in Georgia.

And someone has set up a church right there.

 

In addition to a worship center, there is a food pantry, thrift store,

basketball courts, classrooms, and offices. 

There is job training and after school programs. 

 

It’s a very large complex, and some of you will be interested to know that the property was donated to this nonprofit organization by Malon Mimms,

a friend and benefactor of our church and many Disciples congregations in Georgia.

 

The mission of the City of Refuge is to show people the love of Christ through service.

What’s happening at the City of Refuge happens there every day,

through the help of many volunteers and churches around Atlanta.  

But on one day in October, Oct. 27,

Disciples churches from all over the city are being invited to come

and be part of their presence among the poor.  

 

The plans include a party for 150 or 200 children. 

There will be meals cooked and hygiene kits collected for the homeless.

There will be a health fair.  Cleanup and repair projects in the neighborhood.

A chance to talk and pray with the neighbors. 

It’s a mission trip right here in Atlanta. 

About 10 Atlanta area Disciples churches have already signed up to be there. 

I hope we will participate too.   

It may be uncomfortable.  It might even turn our thinking upside down. 

It could stretch our vision of the purpose of our church. 

 

But the message of the Gospel is clear.

The church was never intended to be stuck in a building somewhere

just staying safe and warm and secure,

while the last, the least, and the lost

never hear a whisper of the good news or feel the touch of God’s love.

 

I have a poem that I’ve kept for years that’s called “The Church Over There,”

 a poem which challenges me not to get too comfortable with the church.

 

“That’s the church over there. 

I see people going in; nicely dressed, well-fed, and comfortable.

That’s the church over there.  I hear music through the windows.

That’s the church over there. 

I see clergy slipping in the door; busy, pious, holy, and clean.

But I’m over here; smashed, angry, little, bleeding!

The music I hear is screaming, cursing, hate, and filth!

My doorway has gum wrappers, beer bottles, stink, and kids!

That’s the church over there; but I’m over here!

I’m lonely, beaten, trapped, and shot!

Man, what’s the church doing over there?”[1]

 

We can’t settle for being the church over there. 

Because what Jesus came to teach us is that

God’s kingdom is an upside down kingdom

where we are the church

and we are to welcome and serve the last, the least, and the lost.

Amen. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



[1] Orlando L. Tibbetts, “The Church Over There” in Sidewalk Prayers.