What’s In it For Me?

 

Luke 14:1, 7-14

 

            Today’s Gospel reading is a celebration of good old fashioned, salt of the earth Midwestern modesty. When it comes to modesty, we Midwesterners can beat the pants off any other area in the country, maybe the world. We are that good at it.

            We are proud of our modesty. In Minnesota, they even have a special name to characterize their special status as the superstars of modesty—they call it Minnesota Nice.

            Here in Iowa, we don’t have to take a backseat to anyone in our ability to take a backseat to anyone. Unlike those Minnesotans who are getting a little too big for their britches by calling attention to their modesty, we just do it, and do it better than anyone else. Modesty is in our blood and in our upbringing. We were taught that if you do anything good or noteworthy, you just keep that to yourself. If you think you’ve done something well, just remember that there are others who can do it better.You’re no better than the next guy and, depending on who you’re standing next to, you might be worse. We don’t like to sing solos or offer public prayer because that’s calling attention to yourself, and we don’t do that.

            We don’t take kindly to bragging and if anyone seems to be getting a big head, we’ll let him know. Actually, no we wouldn’t, but we would talk about that person and let others know what we think of him. We take pride in being the champions of modesty.

             And so we have a special place in our heart for the Gospel reading for today. Where Jesus affirms that we Midwesterners, although we’re too polite to talk about it in public, really have our act together. As we all know, the last thing we would ever do, at least knowingly, is sit at the head table without an invitation. We’re better than that.

 

            Do you detect a mixed message in my musings on Midwestern modesty? There is a paradox to this whole self-denial business and it comes out in the Gospel reading from Luke. Jesus is hanging out with the Pharisees, as he has done so often in the past few chapters—this time at a banquet. It appears to be quite the gala occasion; there are a lot of VIPs present jockeying for position in the seating chart.

            Jesus notices this and reminds them in a gentle way that they are ignoring the wisdom of Proverbs 25. Being Pharisees, who are so proud of their Biblical knowledge, they really should know better.  

            The proverb upon which Jesus elaborates offers simple but effective advice: don’t claim honor and glory for yourself. Exercise modesty, and people will like you better. You gain far more respect when someone else sings your praises than if you tell everyone how great you are.

 

            This message may not be as clear in our society as it once was. I don’t know if Muhammad Ali, whose catch phrase was “I am the Greatest,” was responsible for the switch or if he was just a symptom, but self-promotion is a big part of our culture.

 

            Nonetheless, the proverb is still true. Years ago we received a Christmas letter that really drove this home. Now, there is a tendency for us parents to show how proud we are of our children by bragging on them a bit. No problem with that. But this letter was so over the top, we talked about it for years after. Reading that letter, you would have sworn that this family was God’s gift to an unworthy universe. They were the most talented, the most intelligent, the most fun, the most loving collection of human beings ever gathered under one roof who had absolutely demolished any problems they had encountered. It was almost as if they had written the letter just to inform us that they were the evolutionary zenith of the gene pool. 

 

            In contrast to that, we receive Christmas letters from a number of friends who describe the struggle of life. They share the joys of the past year with heart-warming humility and thanks, and share the trials and disappointments with heart-breaking honesty.

 

            One sends a letter in which they grab the highest seat of honor; another sends a letter in which they take their place at a quiet seat among the rest of humanity. To which do you think we are drawn? The natural reaction is to say to one, “you have got to be kidding!” and to the other, “We are so honored to be your friend.” In claiming the place of honor, one loses respect; in refusing the place of honor, the other gains it.

 

            You know that feeling yourself. If a pastor swaggers into a church proclaiming “I am God’s gift to ministry, my wisdom and skill is so far above you, it isn’t funny, I’m a bargain at 3 times the price, and you are lucky to have me,” chances are the congregation isn’t going to react by saying, “Yes, it’s all true; isn’t he a wonderful person!”

 

            So the proverb is practical advice. The mixed message comes with the issue of motivation.

            Throughout the Bible, one of the core messages is “do not think of yourself.” Love God and your neighbor as yourself. Get your personal feelings and wants and desires out of the picture: just focus on God and the neighbor. Reach out, be charitable. It is better to give than to receive. Turn the other cheek. Love your enemies. There is no greater love shown than giving up your life for another.

 

            The proverb about seating order goes along with that basic theme at first: do not self-promote, do not try to gain honor for yourself, defer to others. But what is the motivation Jesus gives for doing this? So that you can be exalted. So that you will be honored. In other words, the motivation that Jesus gives us for acting in this humble way this way is pure self-interest.

 

            Now it seems possible that I’m taking this the wrong way, or reading too much into it. Until you look at the 2nd half of the Gospel reading. It reinforces the point by doing exactly the same thing. It starts with the usual Biblical commands. Love the neighbor, get the focus off yourself. You are to invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind and the stranger to your feast for one reason: they cannot pay you back. You’re not going to get anything out of your acts of generosity. Your motives will be pure. No self-interest at all. Just being good for the sake of being good.

 

            And then comes the kicker at the end. If you do all this selflessness, you will be blessed. You will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous. In other words, your motivation just got twisted in knots. The reason you do this act of pure generosity and total selflessness, is because there’s something in it for you. So that you get something, not your neighbor or God, you get something out of it. In the end, it is all about what do you get out of it.

 

            Isn’t this a total contradiction? We are taught to love others and forget about our own interests. Why? Because it’s in our own selfish interest to do so. It is the ultimate moral conundrum. And it brings up the question: Is there really any such thing as a pure motive? Does anyone ever do anything; can anyone ever do anything, for any reason other than self-interest? Do we help others for the good feeling we get from doing so? Do we honor God because we know we will benefit from getting in good with someone who has that much control over our lives?

 

            It’s a paradox that has baffled humans since the dawn of reason. It is actually what the entire fascinating book of Job is all about.

 

            I cannot claim to be able to unravel the mystery in this paradox, but here’s an approach that might help, and it comes from this Gospel lesson. I suspect that the Christian community has confused or turned off a lot of people because we have not paid attention to the wisdom in these verses. We have failed to recognize what the average person knows in his or her heart--that when you get down to the basics of life, self-interest is what drives us. And it may sound shocking to say it, but self-interest is what drives God.

            The whole key to life, in fact, is simply recognizing what truly is in our self interest.

 

            Perhaps I can illustrate what I’m talking about with economic systems. The 20th century was a time of a grand economic experiment called communism. In theory, it was admirable, and even somewhat Biblical at its core. In this experimental system, the individual ceases to be important; what is important is the group and all is sacrificed to the interests of the group. If that isn’t loving your neighbor as yourself, I don’t know what is.

            The problem with the system was that people are not wired that way. Take away all self-interest, all individuality, you take away basic motivation and nothing happens. It just doesn’t work.

 

            The alternative is something called the free market, which at its heart is a system run purely on self-interest. The free market runs on demand, in other words, it runs on what people want for themselves. In the movie Wall Street, a character named Gordon Gecko put it bluntly in a famous speech, “Greed is good. Greed works.”

            This system has run into the opposite problem as communism. Yes, it produces wealth, but it also produces ruin. There are families in India who have grown fabulously wealthy by buying up food in times of poor harvest. As they hoard the food, famine arises. As more and more people starve and grow desperate, the demand for food rises, the price goes up. Under the free market system, food hoarders are rewarded for literally starving millions of people to death.

 

            That’s what happens when it’s every man for himself: you get huge gaps between wealth and poverty, everything in your society is dictated by price tags, the environment gets destroyed, community standards of decency and order are unenforceable.

 

            We have come to recognize in the 21st century that the ideal economic system, which may or may not be attainable, is one in which we recognize the paradox of self-interest displayed in Luke. In which we respect the value and freedom of the individual to engage in the pursuit of happiness, but at the same time recognize that we are all in this together, and that, ultimately, my happiness depends on your happiness.

 

            That appears to be what Jesus is saying in these verses. He does not go the way of the ascetics who say that all self-interest is harmful. That if you find yourself wanting something deny it, that if it tastes good, spit it out. That if it brings you pleasure, outlaw it.

            He recognizes the pursuit of happiness; what he does is redirect our pursuit of it so that we can actually achieve it. Why do you chase after that which is not bread, he says. Why chase after things that do not bring the happiness that you crave, that you were created to crave?

 

            We are taught that God is love and that love is denial of self and caring for the other. God used creative powers to fashion a world, and to bring to life a multitude of creatures with which to share this world. God spends power in loving that creation. God so loved the world that he gave us the freedom to pursue our own happiness, knowing full well that this put at risk the entire creation that God so lovingly made. These are tremendous acts of selflessness, and yet the paradox is there. God has done all that and continues to do all that because it brings God happiness and fulfillment to share love. What God understands is that happiness and fulfillment come through the giving up of self. Happiness and selflessness are a package deal. 

 

            We are taught that God is love and that love is denial of self and caring for the other. God came into our world in humble human form, to lay aside power and majesty and honor, and live among us; to take on our burdens, and to suffer shame and pain and death so that we could stand in God’s presence, so that we would understand what love, the key to happiness, is all about. These are tremendous acts of selflessness, and yet the paradox is there. Jesus suffered all that because it brings him happiness and fulfillment to share love. Happiness and fulfillment come through the giving up of self. Happiness and selflessness are a package deal.

 

            Happiness is a paradox. We seek our personal happiness and there is no shame in doing so, but find it by forgetting ourselves. We get love by giving it away. We get honor not by seeking it but by letting it come to us. Our happiness and our neighbors’ happiness are intertwined and there is no separating them.

 

            Many years ago upon hearing the church bells tolling at a funeral, John Donne wrote these immortal words, which I have modified to be gender inclusive: Any person’s death diminishes me for I am a part of humankind. Ask not therefore, for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

 

            We are all individuals in pursuit of happiness and fulfillment. We need to get rid of our piety in denying it. But we will not find happiness and fulfillment in ourselves; we are all in this together. The biggest wonder and mystery is that God has chosen to be in this with us as well. We are asked to love God with all our heart and soul and mind and strength and our neighbor as ourselves, because God’s happiness and ours are tied together. We will get there together, or not at all. Great is the reward.