Rehearse the Reversal

“Indeed there are those who are last who will be first, and first who will be last.”
Luke 13: 30

No one likes to be last.
Think of the last long line you had to wait in. If you’re like me, you asked the person in front of you, “Is this the end of the line?” knowing that it was, with the absurd hope that they would turn around and say, “Oh no, not for you, there’s no waiting over there.”
No one likes to be last.
This is a great time of year for a baseball fan. Pennant races and wild card chases make things intriguing for fans of the top teams. And then there’s the Tampa Bay Devil Rays, with the worst record in the Major Leagues, about 29 games out of first place; they’ve won about 37 percent of their games. If you’re a Tampa Bay fan, what do you have to cheer for?
No one likes to be last or even associate with those who are last.
I’ve had numerous conversations with people who live into their late 80s and 90s, and they wonder, why am I still around? The people I’ve been closest to are all gone. No one wants to spend time with someone like me—not for long, anyway. Why am I the last one standing?
No one likes to be last or even associate with those who are last. I take that back. There is Someone who loves those who are last. This Someone has reversed everything. This Someone would never be praised for having quote-unquote common sense.
Our culture worships winners and fawns over front-runners. The culture in which Jesus lived was no different. Back then, there were plenty of people who were convinced that their salvation was a shoo-in because they had worked hard enough and been good enough. Of course they would be welcomed into heaven; they had listened to the right things; said the right things; done the right things; they would waltz right into the banquet hall.
Not much has changed in a couple thousand years. There are still plenty of people who are convinced that heaven awaits them because of their good performance in the game of life. Success, big numbers, the glitz and glory are read by many as signs of God’s favor; the flip side being, well, no one likes to be last. So work hard. Stay out of trouble (most of the time…wink, wink). Try not to hurt anyone. Make something of yourself. And in the end, God’s got to notice that the good outweighed the bad, doesn’t he? “Doesn’t he?” asks worldly wisdom.
The disturbing story Jesus tells today answers worldly wisdom’s question. And the answer is no.
He said to them, “Make every effort to enter through the narrow door, because many, I tell you, will try to enter and will not be able to. Once the owner of the house gets up and closes the door, you will stand outside knocking and pleading, “Sir, open the door for us.” But he will answer, “I don’t know you or where you come from.” Then you will say, “We ate and drank with you, and you taught in our streets.” But he will reply, “I don’t know you or where you come from. Away from me, all you evildoers!” There will be weeping there, and gnashing of teeth, when you see Abraham, Isaac and Jacob and all the prophets in the kingdom of God, but you yourselves thrown out. People will come from the east and the west and north and south, and will take their places at the feast in the kingdom of God. Indeed there are those who are last who will be first, and first who will be last.
This story is bad news for the high achiever who believes that gaining heaven is just another action they can perform with excellence. This story is bad news for those who have the sense that they are entitled to the blessings of God’s kingdom because of good behavior or personal pedigree. This story is bad news for those who believe Christianity is just a matter of listening to Jesus occasionally and eating and drinking with him once in a while, and then, when that’s done, we’ll put Jesus back into his little box and go about our lives unchanged. This story is bad news for those who think that God’s kingdom is really only for people who are a lot like us. All of which means that it’s bad news for me, because I’ve thought and acted that way far too often. Maybe you’re with me on this.
But do you know who this story is good news for? The last. No one likes to be last, but Jesus loves the last; He’s come to lift up the last and put them at the head of the line. This story is good news for the person who can’t shake the weight of guilt. This story is good news for those who have been pushed to the margins of life because of age, class, or race. This story is good news for the person who is struggling to enter through the narrow door; who is struggling against sin and struggling towards repentance. This story is good news for the one who has been humbled and humiliated by their own shortcomings; for the one who is ready to admit: I’ll never be good enough for God. If you’re there, this story is good news for you. Because it was told by the One who loves the last and the lost and has reversed everything. It was told by the One—Jesus Christ—who opened the narrow door by dying under our sins and burying them in His grave and then returning to life on the third day. This story was told by the same teacher who said: “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick.” He came for the sick, for the last place finishers, for the outcasts, for the have-nots, and for all those plowed under by shame, sadness, sin, pain and grief and are simply willing to say to the Lord: “I don’t deserve any good thing from you. Be merciful to me, a sinner.”
To that person Jesus says, “Come into the kingdom I have prepared for you. Come to the feast made possible by my broken body, my spilled blood and my resurrected life. I do know you—I wrote my name on you when you were baptized. Come from every corner of the world, eat, drink, and celebrate with all who died and lived by faith in me! Come, you who were last, put down, excluded, labeled and marginalized, lose all faith in yourself, believe in Me and all I’ve done for you; and you will become an honored guest at My table.”
Because God loves you and values you, He gives you a preview of the feast he describes in this story. It’s called the Lord’s Supper. Here, in His Church, we eat the best of foods and the finest of wines—the true body and blood of our Lord Jesus, through which our sins are forgiven and we are cleansed. Here, in time, we approach the banquet table, as we will in eternity. Here is our preview of heaven—of life lived in the presence of Jesus, the Lamb who was slain and who lives again. Here with angels and archangels and with all the company of heaven, with all the saints and patriarchs like Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, with the prophets and apostles, and with Christians of every era who have died and live with the Lord, we surround the throne of God and kneel in awe at the Son of Man, Jesus, the Christ, whose scars in hand, foot and side still tell of divine love and mercy. Here, at this altar, in this sanctuary, our rehearsal of heavenly worship begins.
And if we rehearse for heaven here, then we also will rehearse the reversal here. We will rehearse the reversal that characterizes God’s kingdom. We will rehearse the reversal of priorities that Jesus insisted upon. We will seek out the last and the lost and the hurting; we will reach out to the marginalized, the lonely and those who seemingly have nothing to offer in order to let them know: there is a place of honor for you in God’s kingdom—not just in the life of the world to come, but starting now—here--today! We’ll rehearse the reversal by counting success in God’s kingdom not in terms of size or numbers and who is “winning,” but are sinners being led to the narrow door of Christ Jesus? Are they—are we--struggling, repenting, and entering? We’ll rehearse the reversal by not treating each other with an “eye for an eye” approach, but in sincere forgiveness, living out the words that we say when we pray: “Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.” When we do these things, we are simply letting Jesus use us. And when we let Jesus use us; when Christ comes through us with his forgiveness and servant heart, well, the world might look and see a loser. But you’ll know better. You’ll recognize the One who loves the last, and who, by that love, has conquered all. Amen.

August 25 and 26, 2007 + Pentecost 13