Proper c 17 “What you’ve got is enough!”

Once when I was young and newly married and newly a father of a little red headed boy, (well, I wasn’t all that young because you might say marriage was a second vocation) I had just catered a rather nice wedding.  I think I had done a great job, with wonderful appetizers, beautiful pates and even a decadent chocolate wedding cake with white chocolate frosting.   After the reception a man came into the kitchen and told me that he really enjoyed the food.  He gave me his card which introduced him as a co-owner in Horn Blower yachts.  He said he thought that I would be perfect for a slot on the company’s dinner cruise team.  There was only one catch.  I would have to be willing to become a star:  “You see, if you want to make it in the world today, you have to advertise yourself.  You have to become your own product and sell yourself.  You must make yourself known—and you have to learn to brag. In your case you probably think that your product is your cooking and culinary skill, but I am telling you that your product is your self.  Face it, a humble attitude will not make you a number one or a star.”  I looked him in the eye and I blinked.

 Our nation has a fascination with stars, even when it spells doom for those we idolize.  Television was a buzz this week with stories about the pressures on stars that  constantly fear losing their place in the spotlight.  Although everyone thought young Owen Wilson was at the top of his game, this week he apparently attempted suicide.  How fragile, how fleeting fame!  One is reminded of a line from Saint Augustine:

  “The only joy to be attained [in the earthly city] has the fragile brilliance of glass, a joy outweighed by the fear that it may be shattered in a moment.”  The parable that Jesus tells condemns not excellence but  the arrogance of seeking to become a star.  It demonstrates how people who assume stardom or places of honor risk having to relinquish them in favor of someone more distinguished.  Instead of glorying in their own importance, they are shamed.  We, however, are followers of Jesus who as a human being just like one of us, emptied himself of the privileges of his divinity.  I am sorry if this comes as bad news, but membership in the Jesus club does not have its privileges.  We may have an abundance of possessions or a fine education or exceptional talent.  Still, these do not mean that we are superior to others.  Those who are so fortunate would do well to heed the advice of today’s psalm: “It is good for them to be generous in lending.”

 There is another way in which we try to impress others with our importance; it is by doing the right things and associating with important people.   We want to be known as having read the right books, as being at the right concert or play, as being invited to the right parties.  And equally important is the fact that “those right people” come to our parties or to our house for dinner.  We deceive ourselves when we think that any of this makes us important.  Jesus doesn’t take into account any of this when he makes a guest list:  “invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind.”  Invite those whose presence cannot enhance your prestige, those who cannot repay you in kind. 

 Andy Worhol once joked that everyone would have fifteen seconds of fame.  So much of our time and energy is wasted in trying to convince others of our importance.  Still most of us will not see our name on the marquee framed in lights no matter what we accomplish.  Jesus points to what is really of value, and that is caring for those in need of our help.  And isn’t this what so many of us do anyway?  We care for family members and friends and neighbors; we offer our time and whatever resources we can to the outreach programs of this church like the Christmas bazaar, the coat drives, or the ministry on the river project.  We join the walks for cancer or runs in support of worthy causes.  We are just ordinary people attentive to others in ordinary ways that when you come down to it are pretty darn extraordinary.  We’re not stars and we do not claim places of honor; we do not insist on special recognition.  We go about our lives humbly proud to be just ourselves.