Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

Given the counsel of today’s Gospel, I am not sure that Jesus would pass an Emily Post etiquette quiz. Miss Manners would likely tell us to sit at our assigned place, to send an invitation in return for having received one, and to expect thanks in return (all perfectly acceptable as social norms, though we need a deeper spirituality in order for them to be truly fulfilling). Fortunately, our Lord is doing more than simply teaching us manners. The real purpose of His teaching today is refocusing our attention spiritually and materially on the things that matter most.

Notice first that the invited dinner guests seem far more concerned about being seated at a place of honor and the behavior of everyone else. Not only does this lead them to a place of competitiveness and open them up to jealousy, but it also robs them of any semblance of community. So concerned are they for where people sit, and, perhaps more importantly, for their appearance in front of others, that there is no mention made of conversation, of friendly greetings, or of new friendships arising at this dinner. And so, our Lord suggests a radical approach. Instead of the place of honor, seek the lowest spot. Be generous, without looking for repayment.

When I was a newly ordained priest I had a chance to visit Lourdes, where the Blessed Virgin Mary appeared to St. Bernadette. Pilgrims come so that they can go into the miraculous water, called deceptively (given the extremely cold water) “baths.” As I waited in line for my chance at the water, a volunteer walked over and with a lovely Irish accent asked if I would like to follow him. When I politely declined, indicating that I did not want to lose my place in line, he reiterated his invitation, and I realized that I was not being asked, but told to go with him. He led me past the line of waiting pilgrims, and, much to my embarrassment, to the head of the line. My plan was to go to the baths in a devotional way, but there I was at the front of the line, surrounded by very sick people who were hoping for miraculous cures. Rarely in my life have I ever felt so out of place.

As I fought my embarrassment, I realized that in a way, I had fulfilled the Lord’s command in this Gospel. I had chosen the last place and even tried to hold on to it! I was called up higher, in part because I am a priest and Lourdes volunteers don’t like to make priests wait in line (the Roman collar sometimes has perks), and in part because of God’s design. As I apologized to the line for being forced to cut in front, a man with visible tumors all over his body reached out and took my hand. He thanked me for being there and asked if I would pray with him and bless him. “I have come to Lourdes for a cure for ten years, and the Lord hasn’t healed me yet. I don’t think He will. Instead, I think he has kept me alive so I can keep coming back every year and go to the baths on behalf of all the people who can’t get to France.” My chosen place in line was the right one. My given place in line was also the right one. I chose the lowest place and was brought up higher, not exclusively, as I at first feared, because of my collar, but because God had both a mission and a lesson in store for me. My mission was to pray with that man, and to pray for those he carried in his heart. My lesson was to remember that my own social status and concerns pale in comparison to the gift that God wants to give. So today, we can go to the lowest place, trusting that God will repay us at the resurrection of the righteous.

Peace,

Fr. Sam