What is true humility and why is it hard to attain?

Luke 14: 1, 7–14

On a sabbath he went to dine at the home of one of the leading Pharisees, and the people there were observing him carefully.

He told a parable to those who had been invited, noticing how they were choosing the places of honor at the table.

“When you are invited by someone to a wedding banquet, do not recline at table in the place of honor. A more distinguished guest than you may have been invited by him, and the host who invited both of you may approach you and say, ‘Give your place to this man,’ and then you would proceed with embarrassment to take the lowest place.

“Rather, when you are invited, go and take the lowest place so that when the host comes to you he may say, ‘My friend, move up to a higher position.’ Then you will enjoy the esteem of your companions at the table.

“For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

Then he said to the host who invited him, “When you hold a lunch or a dinner, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or your wealthy neighbors, in case they may invite you back and you have repayment.

“Rather, when you hold a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind; blessed indeed will you be because of their inability to repay you. For you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”

Music Meditations

The Lord Hears the Cry of the Poor—John Michael Talbot
Blest Are They—David Haas
We Are the Light of the World—John Anthony Greif

Opening Prayer

From “Living Space” a service of the Irish Jesuits, 2022:

Lord, you invite us to your table and ask us to live the truth of who you are and who we are, for that is humility. We pray for hearts that serve without counting the cost or looking for rewards.

Companions for the Journey

Jesus seems out of character in the advice he gives today to his host, “one of the leading Pharisees.” Is he assuming the role of a social consultant, advising ambitious people how to get ahead while avoiding public embarrassment?

If you want a higher or more prominent place at an important function then choose the lower seat. Then your host will publicly usher you to a higher place at the table. You’ll look great and everyone will note your moment of glory! Who wouldn’t want such an esteemed place and the admiring and envious glances of peers? So, is Jesus suggesting a pretense of humility to get the first place at important gatherings? This doesn’t sound like the Jesus who had a bad reputation for eating with the disreputable. His table companions certainly wouldn’t have merited for Jesus a, “Here, come up higher,” from a leading Pharisee. He is not suggesting a feint in the direction of humility to earn public esteem. He is doing what he has consistently done, teaching his disciples to be truly humble, putting aside ambition for worldly honors.

Jesus isn’t suggesting we slack off at school; or work less diligently at our jobs; or not accept compliments for the good things we do. He wants us to use our talents as best we can since they are gifts from God and will not only benefit us, but can be used for the well-being of others. But Jesus is reminding us that, behind all our attempts to work hard and do good for others, we must reflect on our reasons for doing what we do. As Christians we try to share the gifts of life we have, not so that we stand out, but so that others can stand up with us, relish life and celebrate the God who has blessed us.

Even more than now, in the ancient Near East, meals were guided by strict rules: the guests were carefully chosen; the foods specially selected; the seating arrangements scrupulously determined. There may not have been place cards, but people had their assigned places nevertheless. Jesus may have been the one invited to dine by his host, but before the meal even started, Jesus became the host, as he suggested a change in the rigid seating arrangements and instructed people about the seats they had chosen. Remember that this is a Sabbath meal. The very people Jesus says we should invited to a “banquet” are those who would have been excluded from the Sabbath meal at this distinguished Pharisee’s home, and possibly from the synagogue itself, because their social or physical condition would have labeled them as sinners. But the Sabbath meal was to be a place that celebrated God’s choice of an enslaved people and God’s gift of liberation for them. When God found them, the Israelites were slaves. God reversed their condition and invited them to the table. The Sabbath meal not only celebrated God’s gracious actions on their behalf, but it also reminded them that they were to do for others what had been done for them: free the enslaved; welcome the stranger; care for the children and protect the widows.

I am sure Jesus doesn’t want us to stop having meals and sharing special occasions with those nearest and dearest to us. That’s not what he means when he turns to the Pharisee who is hosting him and tells him to invite those to lunch or dinner who can’t return the favor. If we make a point to invite the least, “the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind...,” then while at table with them, we might enter into new relationships. Not only would the poor be fed, but we would discover the Christ who identifies most closely with them.

Those neglected by our society not only need our material gifts, they also need the dignity that comes with being acknowledged; they need the gift of our friendship—and we need theirs as well. Together with them, we will experience the God Jesus has revealed to us, who loves us, not because we are distinguished or esteemed in our world, but because God has chosen to love us, rich and poor, haves and have-nots. The reality is that we seldom, if ever, go outside our social and familial circles. Sitting at table with one another will remind us of what God has done for us and who we all are, children of a loving and caring God, who has gifted each of us, whether we are hosting the meal or called in from the highways and byways of life to share in it.

No, Jesus hasn’t had a shift in character. He isn’t suggesting subtle ways to climb the social ladder so as to get places of esteem and influence. Rather, he wants those who have—to reach out to those who have not. And if we sit across the table from each other, who knows where our conversations will lead? Imagine the dinner scene: food and drink being passed and people who previously didn’t know one another, involved in animated conversation. What might we hear at the table as we get to know the guests we have invited? We might hear and come to understand their need for: food and shelter; protection for their rights; good and safe schools for their children; a voice to speak out on their behalf in the community; health care and medicine for their families; help to process legal documents; employment, etc. We rarely get to know those whose lives are at the other end of the spectrum from us. But if we did, by having a dinner together, or initiating a conversation with them, we might come to recognize the others as unique persons and we might come to know their needs as well. Then, first hand, we will know what we must do to be Jesus’ faithful disciples.

Of course, it wouldn’t all be sad talk, would it? At table, we would share stories of our family origins, our children’s antics, recipes and traditions. At table we would discover how much we have in common as human beings, we would see less of what separates us and more of what unites us. Are we being too idealistic? Are we describing a purely imaginative scene that has no parallels in the “real world?” Maybe. But here at Eucharist we are gathered around a shared meal. The kind Jesus has described. He has invited us and we have accepted the invitation. Granted, our parish communities can be pretty homogenous. But if we look a little more closely, we will notice more than enough diversity, especially these days in our very mobile world and with the arrival of so many immigrants.

There are many differences that would keep us separate. Nevertheless, here we are, together at the same table. We will listen to our common family story. It goes all the way back to Abraham and Sarah and to such sages as Sirach, in our first reading. In our worship our story focuses on Jesus and his Spirit makes his words relevant to our day. We may be very different in the world, but here at Eucharist we are family. What have we learned about one another at this table? When we leave this worship space, what can we do for others, those whom Jesus would have us love the way he loves them?

Weekly Memorization

Taken from the gospel for today’s session…

When you hold a banquet, invite the poor, the lame, the blind; blessed indeed will you be because of their inability to pay you

Living the Good News

What action can you take in the next week as a response to today’s reading and discussion?

Keep a private journal of your prayer/actions responses this week. Feel free to use the personal reflection questions or the meditations which follow:

Reflection Questions

What in this gospel sounds very noble and right, but is ignored as not practical by most of us?
Henri Nouwen says that the way to follow Jesus is through “downward mobility”. What does that mean, in real-life terms?
Is it attainable?
What forms of self-indulgence do I engage in, because “I am worth it”?
Who might suffer or be neglected in the process?
What about our culture encourages us to put ourselves in the forefront of discussions or events?
What elements of our everyday existence (such as social media) encourage self-promotion?
What value do we place on celebrity?
What value do we place on insignificance?
What value do we place on popularity?
What value do we place on ordinariness?
What value do we place on success?
What value do we place on obscurity?
What value do we place on money ?
What value do we place on service?
What individuals do I think it is important to cultivate, and why?
What, in others, am I impressed by?
To whom do I give either time or money without expecting a payoff? (whom do I invite to the banquet?)
How do I rank myself in relation to others?
Have I ever felt overlooked or not especially welcome at a gathering of friends or family?
How did I feel?
How did I react?
Who, in our society, are constantly sent to the wrong end of the table?
Who, in our society, are not invited to the table at all?
Have I ever been “surprised” by my special welcome at an event or at someone’s home?
How did it feel?
To whom can I extend a special welcome as an “honored guest”, metaphorically speaking?
Why is it important to welcome the poor and marginalized to our tables, and not just donate money to good causes?
What is humility?
What is false humility?

Meditations

A Meditation in the Dominican Style/Asking Questions:

We are each special and unique. But sometimes we need to be more special or more unique than everybody around us. We sometimes need to have the “honored place” at the table of life, and unconsciously expect others to agree. There are subtle tools we employ to get others’ attention, to arouse other’s envy, to stand out from the crowd—self-promotion, complaining about how unappreciated we are, humble bragging, and fame-by-association, to name a few… So we need to look to Jesus as our model; his actions and words were focused on the Kingdom, not on himself. What of my actions/words put the poor, the marginalized or those otherwise unnoticed in the spotlight? What of my actions/words point to me? What lies have I told myself about how under-valued I am compared to others? Have I ever stopped to consider those on the lower rungs of the economic ladder who work so hard for so little? Do I publicly engage in a type of false humility, which might encourage others to tell me I am selling myself short, and expect others to let me know again and again how valued I am? Do I feel the need to demonstrate how close to God I am or how important I am to other important people? What steps can I take to fix at least one of these behaviors?

A Meditation in the Ignatian Style/Consideration:

Adapted from “Sacred Space”, a service of the Irish Jesuits:

How difficult it is to practice the art of humility! How difficult it is not to take the best seat, grab the best bargain, and be the first in line for the concert I must see! Jesus asks us to think of others, to be more award of others’ needs, step back a bit and allow others to be center stage for a change. At the end of each day I take some time this week to look back and examine the subtle or not-so-subtle ways I stepped in front of others to gain attention, praise or some advantage. In my heart, I look at those I might have overlooked in my need to be noticed and instead, I put myself in their shoes. And finally, I consider those times when I was irritated, disappointed or angry because I was not noticed enough, was not praised enough. I ask Jesus to help me with my humility issues.

A Meditation in the Franciscan Style/Action:

“When you hold a banquet, invite the poor, the lame, the blind; blessed indeed will you be because of their inability to pay you.” We all know that we may not each take this injunction literally. We also know that it is hard to be generous in the face of hostility or lack of appreciation for our generosity. But rather than dismiss the idea out of hand, try to think of some way that you can help the poor, the lame and the blind reach the table of plenty. In addition, there must be someone in your life that you can help in some way, either monetarily or with your time, who cannot, or will not, return the favor. Do it anyway. And, let go of the resentment at doing so.

A Meditation in the Augustinian Style/Relationship

Try to pray the following Litany of Humility every day this week:

“Litany of Humility”

Author: Rafael Cardinal Merry del Val y Zulueta

O Jesus, meek and humble of heart, Hear me. From the desire of being esteemed, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the desire of being loved, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the desire of being extolled, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the desire of being honored, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the desire of being praised, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the desire of being preferred to others, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the desire of being consulted, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the desire of being approved, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the fear of being humiliated, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the fear of being despised, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the fear of suffering rebukes, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the fear of being calumniated, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the fear of being forgotten, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the fear of being ridiculed, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the fear of being wronged, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the fear of being suspected, Deliver me, O Jesus. That others may be loved more than I, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. That others may be esteemed more than I, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. That, in the opinion of the world, others may increase and I may decrease, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. That others may be chosen and I set aside, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. That others may be praised and I go unnoticed, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. That others may be preferred to me in everything, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it. That others may become holier than I, provided that I may become as holy as I should, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

Poetic Reflection:

This poem captures the sense of true humility, which starts with honesty before God, and a plea for God’s help:

IV

How calmly I balance here,

On the verge of loving you
again, in ways
I have forgotten.

You love out of your surplus;
I cannot accept out of my need.
How clever this pride
that dresses as humility
that makes of weakness
an excuse for mediocrity.

I am a weak man, Lord—
wrapped simply but completely
in my refusal to try.

Depart from me.
How can you bear my company
and even wish to cleanse me?
I remember you would have washed
Peter's feet, his hands, cleaned
away the remnants of his life.
Yet there was no room in his smallness
for your greatness.

Lord,
if you should but take this withered hand
of mine, and straighten it in love
then suddenly my square world
would go round, my eyes take on a new source
of light, then suddenly,
I might know the urge to fly

—From “War Poems; Eight days in Retreat”, from Psalms of the Still Country, by Ed Ingebretsen, S.J.

Closing Prayer

From the desire of being honored, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the desire of being praised, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the desire of being preferred to others, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the desire of being consulted, Deliver me, O Jesus. From the desire of being approved, Deliver me, O Jesus. That others may become holier than I, provided that I may become as holy as I should, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

Weekly Reflections

22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time, August 28, 2022