Luke 14:1, 7-14 Pastor Nathan P. Kassulke
Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost Sunday, August 31, 2025 “Whoever Humbles Himself Will Be Exalted”
Nearly 100 years ago, C.S. Lewis wrote about the sin of pride or conceit: “There is no fault which makes a man more unpopular, and no fault which we are more unconscious of in ourselves. And the more we have it ourselves, the more we dislike it in others.” In other words, the more proud we are, the more upset we get when someone else seems too proud. We don’t for a second consider that we are prideful or conceited ourselves. Lewis writes several pages on this topic before concluding with a similar thought. He finishes the chapter this way: “If you think you are not conceited, it means you are very conceited indeed.” It makes you think, doesn’t it? In fact, not only does it make us think, it probably also makes us feel a little embarrassed, or a little guilty. It makes us realize that stopping to think about pride almost certainly uncovers some pride in our own hearts and in our own lives. If you think, “I’m never conceited,” doesn’t that say something about just how conceited you are? It doesn’t just make us think. It makes us hurt. What Lewis discussed almost 100 years ago, Jesus taught around 2,000 years ago. Today’s Gospel, from Luke chapter 14, begins, “One Sabbath day, when Jesus went into the house of a leader of the Pharisees to eat bread, they were watching him closely.” Maybe you know enough about the life of Jesus to understand why the Pharisees watched him so closely. Perhaps some were still curious about Jesus and thought it was worth seeing what he might say or do. Some may have thought of Jesus as a teacher worth listening to, so they were ready in case he started teaching them. But the most common reaction Pharisees had to Jesus was to doubt him and to be angry with him and to want to challenge or undermine him. Over and over again they asked questions they hoped he couldn’t answer or waited and watched for him to do something that could get himself in trouble. They wanted to pounce whenever that would happen. It turns out that as these Pharisees were watching Jesus, Jesus was watching them. The owner of the house was hosting a dinner party, and Jesus watched as people arrived how they tried to sit in the best places. Roughly speaking, this meant that they wanted to be as close to the host as possible. The most highly honored guests would be seated the closest to the host. It kind of makes sense, even if this isn’t necessarily the way we would view it through our own cultural lenses. When you find a spot at a church dinner in the Fellowship Hall, you probably don’t think “What seat is the most honored?” You probably would think more about where is there an open spot. Is there a seat near a friend, or at least someone who looks friendly? Do I want to be near an exit just in case? Do I want to be near a window to watch for someone coming late? Whatever specifics go into our choice, our culture isn’t really built on the idea of honor and shame as a significant factor. It was different in the time and part of the world when and where Jesus lived. That culture was steeped in the idea that some things bring honor and others bring shame. People were more in tune to the concept of their standing in regard to these things. And there were seats at the dinner that indicated higher honor. Why wouldn’t you want to be at one of those seats? Why wouldn’t you want to be as close to the highest honor as possible? What Jesus saw made complete sense. In fact, maybe it made too much sense. It made too much sense because it fit with sinful human reasoning. Jesus had a different idea in mind. He had a different emphasis. He had a lesson for those Pharisees and for us. So he started telling stories about how things could have played out. What if you take one of the most honorable seats, and someone more distinguished, more honored, shows up. Here comes the host, and he has to say, “Sorry, you are going to have to move.” Guess where you need to go. Whatever seat is left. It won’t be a seat of high honor, it will be the leftovers. It will be the lowest position. Being sent there would be much worse than just sitting in that place in the first place, because the focus would have been on you having you move down. Here’s a better idea, says Jesus. Go and take the lowest spot. And if that is not the place that makes sense for you, your host will sort that out, too. Only in this case, he’s going to take you, publicly, in front of the others, and say, “Come. Take a better spot.” In the one scenario, you exalt yourself, and you are humbled. In the