Know Your Place

 

22^nd Sunday in Ordinary Time

Cycle C

Sir 3:17-18,20, 28-29

Heb 12:18-19,22-24a

Lk 14:1,7-14

 

Know your place

 

Christopher West tells the story of an old usher, Mr. Xavier, who served for many years at his local parish church. He was always grumpy about something. He had been an usher for as long as anyone could remember, and he took great pride in pointing out to any other usher that he had seniority. It was his way or no way. And boy, could he pack the people into those pews. He also had the nasty habit of walking up to the family of a crying baby and escorting them outside if they weren’t moving fast enough. Or of  bluntly telling a teenager she wasn’t dressed appropriately.

 

One Sunday morning Mass was particularly crowded. Folks were squeezed in as tight as they could be, and some were even forced to stand around the perimeter of the church. Just about halfway through the homily the back door opened and a young man entered. He was obviously homeless. His clothes were filthy, his hair unkempt, and his shoes were practically disintegrating off his feet. Bathing was a forgotten memory for him, evidenced by the way peoples’ heads snapped around in dismay as he shuffled past them.

 

On he walked down the aisle. Every time he passed a pew that had a little bit of room left in it the people on the end would shift over, closer to the aisle, blocking him out. Sometimes it was subtle, sometimes not. Finally he came to the front row, where you know there’s always a seat left. He sat down.

 

Suddenly there was Mr. X, striding purposely down the center aisle. He’d spotted the guy. All eyes turned and followed his progress towards the front of the church. You could practically hear the people thinking, “Xavier’ll get him. Watch this. He’ll practically drag him out if he has to. Maybe he’ll even rap him on the head a bit.” Everyone, even the priest, was watching, wondering how this would turn out.

 

Xavier came to the first row, stopped beside the young man, and simply sat down next to him. That’s all he did. Just sat down next to him, and he remained there throughout the rest of the Mass. No scene was made, no comment was spoken. He just sat there as he would’ve next to any other parishioner. And in that moment of humble acceptance Mr. Xavier gave that young man back his dignity.

 

I wonder where Jesus sat.

 

When he arrived at the banquet, what did he do first? Where did he sit? He didn’t have expensive clothes. His sandals were probably filthy from tramping around Galilee all day. He probably had not bathed in a while. And his group of friends were not much better off. The other guests were watching him closely. Why? Was it because he was a famous rabbi they were all curious to see? Was it because the Pharisees were waiting to trip him up on some point of law, to humiliate him in public? Or was it because he didn’t look like he fit in with the crowd. Sort of  like that homeless young man.

 

Did his host lead him to a place at his side, or did he leave him there to fend for himself, to find out where he fit in on his own? Was the parable he told just a piece of wisdom he had heard, or had his own experience taught him about humility and humiliation?

 

To Americans, humility is often seen as weakness. We train our children to have good self-images. We build their self-esteem by praising them constantly. Rarely do we teach them to submit. Rarely do we teach them to live within themselves. Rarely do we allow them to fail. Perhaps we have given them a false sense of themselves, making them self-centered rather than humble. Perhaps so many marriages fail because we do not know how to be humble with each other. We have never learned to be obedient to each other. We have never learned how to submit to each other. We are always trying to be something we’re not, scrambling for the best place, the biggest house, the shiniest car, the best job. We tend to cover up our insecurities and weaknesses with boastfulness.

 

 

I see and hear all those commercials for those online dating services. Every one of the testimonials in the ads says something to the effect “He loves me for who I am”, or “I finally found someone who accepts me for who I really am”. That’s a bit arrogant, isn’t it?  Most of us assume that our true selves are lovable. Are we asking people to accept us when we are unacceptable? Do we really lack so much self awareness?

 

Psalm 139 tells us that viewing ourselves truthfully, with sober judgment, means seeing ourselves the way God sees us. That’s humility. A humble person makes a realistic assessment of himself or herself without illusion or pretense to be something he or she is not. The humble regard themselves neither smaller nor larger than they truly are. Humility is acceptance. It is submission. It is obedience.

Humility is knowing your place and being ok with it. Humility is knowing your limitations, repenting and seeking forgiveness. God knows your limitations, and he loves you just the same, but He still requires something from you.

 

The greatest act of humility is repentance. The master does not ask the servant for forgiveness. You cannot be arrogantly sorry. In order to ask for forgiveness you must subjugate yourself and your ego to the other. You have to dig deep within yourself and be truly honest in your assessment of your behavior. And once you see how you have hurt the other, you have to swallow your pride and ask for forgiveness, knowing full well that you may be rejected.

 

And just as we are called to repentance, we are called even more to forgive. I tell young parents that the most important thing they can do for their children is to forgive them. From the very beginning, forgive them. If only once do they come to you and say they’re sorry and you hesitate, or you offer some condition, or say, “I forgive you…but”, you have lost their trust. They need to trust that no matter what they do, you will accept them back. They must trust if they are to repent. They must trust in your forgiveness if they are to ever have hope. If they can’t trust in your forgiveness, how can they trust in their future spouse’s or even God’s? We all want to trust that we will be forgiven. Why wouldn’t we want others to trust in our forgiveness?

 

We act with humility when we forgive, just as it takes an act of humility to ask for forgiveness. Have you ever thought about how Jesus practiced humility? How could the all powerful God himself be humble? He did it by forgiving. He called everyone to repentance and then when they came to him he forgave them. Unconditionally. Even from the cross.

 

We have the example of what it means to be truly human in Jesus Christ. He was no pushover. He was not weak. He never needed praise to raise his self-esteem. The term “self-esteem” is found nowhere in scripture. But nowhere in history can we find someone so comfortable in his own skin. He was God, yet he chose to be obedient. He chose to submit to the will of the Father, and he handed himself over to lesser beings. He put himself in their control. St. Paul says that Jesus emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, ...who humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross. For us.

 

That’s what it means to be truly human. His self-imposed humility led to Jesus’ submission to the Father’s will, which led to his obedience to the Father’s plan, which led to his death, which led to his glory, and ours.

 

Humbling, isn’t it?