The Best Seat

You set a table for me in the presence of my foes. You drench my head with oil. My cup is overflowing. Surely goodness and mercy will pursue me all the days of my life, and I will live in the house of the Lord forever (Psalm 23:5-6). Amen.

We all have our favorite seats – midfield for sporting events; the middle of the movie theater; front row for our grandchild's graduation; aisle seats for our cousin's wedding; near the stage for a concert; front seats for a roller coaster. We even have our favorite seats in church.

No church has assigned seating. I'm still new, so I'm not sure where all of you like to sit – if you have your favorite seats every Sunday or if you prefer to move around from week to week.

In my previous congregation, Janice had her favorite seat in church. It was on the left side, the back pew. Janice had a hard time hearing, so it always seemed strange that she sat as far away from the pulpit and speaker as possible. Her children explained the reasoning for that seating choice. Her husband, Lyle, had hurt his back as a Racine firefighter. He liked that particular back pew because it's a little shorter lengthwise than the other pews. That way, if his back started to bother him, he could stretch out his legs into the aisle. And if his back felt really bad, he could walk out of church without disturbing many of the worshipers.

But Lyle and Janice weren't the only ones who preferred that pew. We had another family who liked the back pew, also. This was before my time at the church, but the story was recounted to me by the children. Bob was the first service head usher. He liked that pew so he could count worshipers and get up easily for ushering duties. So, one Sunday, Bob and Bev were sitting in the back pew. So, the next Sunday, Lyle and Janice would arrive a few minutes earlier to get the back pew. Then, the next Sunday, Bob and Bev would arrive a few minutes earlier to get the back pew.

Their children came to learn that there was a price to pay for that seat in church. The price was arriving 30 minutes early for worship. Every Sunday. They were vying for the best seat.

St. Luke tells that one Sabbath Jesus was invited to eat in the house of a prominent Pharisee (Luke 14:1). That sounds nice. Polite. Kind. But then we read, "Jesus was being carefully watched." His enemies had arranged this banquet and attempted to orchestrate this situation hoping that Jesus would say or do something they could pounce on and shout, "See! He's not the Messiah!" Interestingly, while they were watching him, Jesus was observing them.

Jesus noticed how the Pharisees – the religious leaders among the Jews – scrambled for the best seats at the banquet. I don't know if they were arriving 30 minutes early, but these guests were playing a game of choosing chairs of honor for themselves. Jesus stopped the game of musical chairs to teach them a lesson that not only applied to dinner parties, but also to the kingdom of God.

St. Luke writes, "When [Jesus] noticed how they were selecting the places of honor, he told the invited guests a parable. 'When you are invited by someone to a wedding banquet, do not recline in the place of honor, or perhaps someone more distinguished than you may have been invited by him. The one who invited both of you may come and tell you, 'Give this man your place.' Then you will begin, with shame, to take the lowest place'" (Luke 14:7-9).

Jesus isn't only speaking to the Pharisees in the seats of his time. He's also speaking to us in these seats in our time. We must admit that we aren't all that different from those glory-seeking seat-grabbers. We like to choose seats of honor at a party, brag about our accomplishments, and show favoritism to the popular and wealthy.

All three Scripture readings today speak about humility. That's good, because humility is a hard concept for us to grasp in our culture. Politicians try to get you to vote for them by puffing up their accomplishments and downgrading their opponent. Parents yell from the sideline for their child to be the star on the athletic team. We push for a promotion by putting ourselves up on a pedestal for all to see.

We want praise. We crave recognition. We desire people to tell us how good we are. We puff ourselves up with pride. But pride can quickly turn into false security, making us feel invincible. We start to believe our own press releases, which puffs us up even more. But then we are shamed when someone comes along to move us to a lower place. We get knocked off our pedestal when we don't get the promotion … or worse, we're let go. Our child isn't the star; he doesn't even get off the bench. Our preferred politician is proven to be a liar, or our political stance is an abject failure. We're denied, dishonored, and deflated. We are shamed as someone else is given our seat at the table.

Jesus continues with his parable, "But when you are invited, go and recline in the lowest place, so that when the one who invited you comes, he will tell you, 'Friend, move up to a higher place.' Then you will have honor in the presence of all who are reclining at the table with you. Yes, everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted" (Luke 14:10-11). Jesus is placing into his parable the wisdom of Solomon in our Old Testament lesson, "Do not honor yourself in a kings presence. Do not stand in a place reserved for great people, because it is better to be told, 'Come up here,' than for you to be humiliated before a ruler whom your eyes have seen" (Proverbs 25:6-7a).

Mary, in her Magnificat, says of God, "He has scattered those who were proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down rulers from their thrones. He has lifted up the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things, but the rich he has sent away empty" (Luke 1:51-53). Both James and Peter, in their epistles, quote the same verse from Proverbs when they write: "God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble" (James 4:6; 1 Peter 5:5).

Jesus' parable can apply to proper etiquette at dinner parties or neighborhood barbecues or in the workplace environment or the athletic field or lots of other places in real life. But Jesus' real point is teaching us a principle that will hold true in the kingdom of God.

There is a temptation to think God should be impressed by the things we've done. That he'll look at our worship attendance record, or our offering totals, or how well our kids have turned out. And while we may try to boast about what we've done for the Lord, we need to remember that it is the Lord who sets the standard. We may do some very good things, yet none of them achieve perfection. St. James reminds us, "For whoever keeps the whole law and yet stumbles at just one point is guilty of breaking all of it" (James 2:10). James teaches that our favoritism is the same as murder. Robbing others of the glory they deserve is the same as theft. Building ourselves up while putting others down is the same as gossip and slander.

When we compare our deeds with God's desire for perfection, we can only hang our heads in shame. It's impossible for us to attain God's standard of perfection. Jesus promises, "Those who exalt themselves will be humbled" (Luke 14:11). Better to humble yourself than to have Jesus humble you. Get down on your knees in repentance, so Jesus may lift you up with his forgiveness. Stand with your head bowed in shame so Jesus may lift your head to see the glories of heaven. Admit that you are a sinful wretch so that Jesus may call you his blood-bought saint. Instead of running to the best seat, allow Jesus to invite you to his seat of honor.

Jesus teaches, "When you make a feast, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed" (Luke 14:13-14). We are the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind – the sinners. And yet, King Jesus puts his own words into action as he invites people like us to his wedding banquet.

And so, we come into Christ's kingdom, not with braggadocio saying, "Hey, look at me!" Rather, we approach God's presence in lowliness, with repentance, in confession, and with humility, begging, "Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner."

We don't come into God's kingdom exalting ourselves. Rather, we exalt Jesus. Jesus put his own words into practice by humbling himself. He had the best seat in the house – in God's house. Jesus sat at God the Father's right hand in the heavenly realms. Jesus gave up that seat upon his golden throne so he could lay first in his mother Mary's womb, then lay in a feeding trough. As the Son of a carpenter, Jesus may have learned how to make chairs and benches for people. But Jesus himself owned no home, table, or chairs of his own.

Jesus humbled himself as he sat upon the Roman cross for six hours. Then his corpse sat upon the cool stone of Joseph of Arimathea's tomb for three days. But Jesus did not stay dead! He rose from the grave and forty days later he ascended to heaven. Now he is once again seated in the best seat upon his golden throne at God's right hand.

We are not to come, finding the best seat for ourselves. Jesus comes to find us. He then seats us at the best seat at the wedding feast of the Lamb in the kingdom of God.

The four people I mentioned earlier who were vying for the best seat in church, aren't vying for that seat anymore. That's because they are all sainted and in heaven. Bob and Bev, Lyle and Janice, are all enjoying different seats. They are seated around the throne of the Lamb in heaven. St. John saw a great multitude around the throne of the Lamb in his vision of heaven, "After this I looked and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and in front of the Lamb" (Revelation 7:9).

Bob and Bev, Lyle and Janice, were all very humble people. By faith and with humility, they gladly accepted the best seats at Jesus' wedding banquet. These are seats that Jesus offers to each of you. He invites you to the best seats in his house. When you come to him with humility – confessing your sin, admitting your guilt, acknowledging your hurts, and disclosing your messes – then Jesus forgives your sin, removes your guilt, absolves your hurts, and forgets about your messes.

Jesus offers you these best seats. They are free to you. But they came at a great price. Jesus paid for these seats with his holy precious blood, and with his innocent suffering and death. He has slammed shut the gates of hell and opened wide the gates of heaven so his saints who believe in the Master of the Banquet can sit in his seats.

With this parable, Jesus is not teaching us about manners, but God's mercy. As James writes, "Mercy triumphs over judgment" (James 2:13). God's mercy allows us to sit – not where we imagine we deserve – but in faith where he places us based precisely upon what we don't deserve. It is God's grace that exalts the humble. You can sit wherever you want in the church … although I think the front row have the best seats in God's house. But the beauty of this parable is that through God's kindness, he allows you to sit in the front row at his wedding feast, next to the King, the Host, our Lord. Amen.

To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb be praise and thanks and honor and glory for ever and ever (Revelation 5:13). Amen.