Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost

September 2, 2007

Sermon by Pastor John Marboe

The Holy Gospel according to St. Luke. (Luke 14:1, 7-14)

On one occasion when Jesus was going to the house of a leader of the Pharisees to eat a meal on the Sabbath, they were watching him closely.

When he noticed how the guests chose the places of honor, he told them a parable. “When you are invited by someone to a wedding banquet, do not sit down at the place of honor, in case someone more distinguished than you has been invited by your host; and the host who invited both of you may come and say to you, ‘Give this person your place,’ and then in disgrace you would start to take the lowest place. But when you are invited, go and sit down at the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he may say to you, ‘Friend, move up higher’; then you will be honored in the presence of all who sit at the table with you. For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”

He said also to the one who had invited him, “When you give a luncheon or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, in case they may invite you in return, and you would be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. And you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you, for you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”

The Gospel of the Lord.

Are we generous people? Are we giving people? That answer may vary from person to person among us, but as a culture--as a culture--I think the right answer is “No.” As a culture, it seems clear that getting, having, using, and keeping are more important to us than giving, sharing, and sacrifice.

I’ve been reading some things by an author by the name of Martin Brokenleg, a Lakota Indian, a professor at Augustana College in South Dakota, and a pastor. He tells this story about tribal life and how hard it was to learn his tribal standard for generosity. One time, friends were coming over to their house when he was young, and they had two little boys. His mother told him that they were coming and that he was going to have to pick out two gifts to give to each of these young friends. He stood there in his room, looking around, thinking, “What am I willing to part with?” But he knew the teaching was: what you treasured the most is the first thing you must give away. By the time his friends arrived, he had selected his favorite shirt and his favorite toy to give to these two other children so that they would feel welcome.

Those of us who have experienced tribal culture or traditional cultures around the world have often felt this kind of generosity. Some of you have traveled to Tanzania. Even though people have so little there, they are overflowing in their generosity, offering food, clothing, and handmade baskets. They place these in the hands of the people who come just because they have come to visit.

Or I think of the story of my wife Andrea, who traveled to Russia about five or six years ago. In a city near the Black Sea she stayed with a family, who where quite poor by our standards. They were suffering like the rest of the country in the economic uncertainty after the collapse of communism. Everyone was struggling, even for the food that they put on their table. But Andrea noticed and commented upon a tea set that they had, a tea set that had been in the family apparently for a very long time, a very ornate and handmade tea set. Without her knowing it, as she was preparing to leave, they wrapped it all carefully in newspaper, put it in a cardboard box, and put it in her hands on the way out the door. Andrea was humbled and felt badly about it, and talked to the translator, saying, “I can’t possibly accept this gift. Please tell them I cannot accept this gift.” The translator said, “You don’t understand. In this culture, you do not refuse a gift like this.” To this day it sits in our cupboard, this heirloom tea set from a family I never met, and who Andrea barely got to know.

I, too, have experienced this. A friend of mine spent a great deal of time in the Philippines in a particular region. The custom in that country, he told me, is that if you clap twice another person is obligated to give you whatever it is they have that you want. Later on, having sort of moved off of that topic, I commented on his tie, which was very nice, not at all thinking about what I was doing, and before you knew it the tie came off and was placed in my hand. It startled me, this kind of generosity, this willingness, eagerness even, to give something away.

These examples are entirely normal in the cultures wherein they exist, but they startle us because it’s not so normal in ours. It’s not how we generally teach our children to be. We teach our children to take care of themselves first.

Dr. Brokenleg notes this cultural difference between the Native American culture and the more dominant, westernized culture in our country. He cites a study that was done at a university in South Dakota some years ago. In that study two test groups of similarly aged boys—one Native American and one white—were given, individually, two suckers. What tended to happen was interesting. The Native American boys tended, just as the white boys did, to eat the first sucker. But what they did with the second sucker was telling. The Native American boys would give that second sucker to somebody who didn’t have one; where the white boys would pocket it for the future.

He concluded with these observations about our individualistic and westernized culture. First, he says, in our individualistic culture, people become socially remote from one another, and then people must fend for themselves. Secondly, our excess materialism is a result of people lacking human love and seeking substitutes in material things. And, third, that in our culture a person’s worth is measured in material wealth, unlike in some others.

Now, the point here is not to romanticize tribal culture or traditional cultures. They, of course, have their own shadow-sides, just as we do. But the comparison in this area may help us see something more clearly about ourselves, something the scriptures urge us to consider.

In the lessons for today, we have several exhortations to generous living, both from the writer of Hebrews and in Luke’s Gospel. The biblical call to generosity seems to share certain assumptions we find in tribal and traditional cultures, but that are weak or mission in our own. First of all, the writer of Hebrews says this: “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for angels have been entertained unawares.” And then he says, “And remember those in prison as though you yourself were in prison.”

What we have here is the generosity of identification, as opposed to dis-identification. An identification with the stranger we don’t yet know; and then also with the prisoner that we might just as soon forget about. Identification with others in need or in any kind of trouble is generosity. Have you ever noticed that infants, when they are placed together, cry with each other? If one cries, others join in. That instinct to cry with one another is something we unlearn as we grow up.

Dr. Brokenleg says that the principle under-girding the Native American give-away is what is called in their language, “Mitakuye Oyasin,” and it means “we are all relatives”; we are all relatives; we belong to one another—the generosity of identification underlies the Lakota principle of give-away, just as it does for the writer of Hebrews.

Secondly, the Book of Hebrews says, “Keep your lives free of the love of money, and be content with what you have.” Well, that just kind of says it plainly, doesn’t it?

I remember reading comic books when I was younger. One of my favorites was “Richie Rich.” Do any of you remember Richie Rich? He had an uncle whose name was Uncle Scrooge. That uncle loved his money. He had money bags piled over his house, and he was constantly counting them. I remember there was one scene where he was bathing in money. He is kind of scrubbing his back in a tub full of money. It was begging the question: What is the value of money itself? The comic is satirically suggesting to us: “Beware of the love of money.” I think it’s not just a warning for the rich, but also people who don’t have enough. The love of money can infect all of us, no matter what our situation in life is.

The question we need to ask ourselves, I think, in our modern world, is: “What is enough?” What is enough? When is enough enough? And when is too much still not enough?

Finally, generosity is an act of faith. Again, Dr. Brokenleg speaking: “I have seen people give away literally everything they had, except the very clothes they were wearing, secure in the knowledge that relatives would always care for one another.”

Jesus, in our Gospel lesson, takes it even a step further. He says, “When you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind.” In other words, don’t give in order to get something in return. Find instead the joy there is in giving, period—in being a person who gives, free from attachment to things, which cannot ultimately be kept anyway.

Whether we learn about generosity from Jesus or the Lakota Sioux, the lesson is similar. Generosity is a condition of the heart and a way of life. It’s an entire disposition in life. It takes courage; it requires trust. It identifies with those in need or in any kind of pain; it practices giving away what is dear to us, to keep greed out of our heart, and so that we might practice contentment. Generosity is powerful and infectious. It is, as Jesus said, a blessing.

Amen.