A Parable of Hospitality

My friends at Homebrewed Christiainity have podcasted a sermon that I gave at my church on April 26th.

You can listen to it here.

We’re the good guys…right?

I have been captivated by parables recently. I am not alone either. The content of Jesus’ parables are striking and evocative. What’s more, the structure and artistry of a good story that invites participation has really caught my attention. The parables of Jesus are the one form of communication and instruction wherein the structure and the content are guided by the same ethic — inclusion.

The reason we gravitate towards good stories is because they invite us inside. We get lost in the story. You’ve probably said that before about your favorite book. Jesus’ parables invited his hearers in because the characters are people they could identify with. At the same time, the content of the parables were about those whom God was including in the kin_dom. A parable welcomes you into a new landscape. For Jesus, that new landscape provided for new ways to see God, one’s self, and others.

No one leaves unscathed by Jesus’ parables. Particularly those in Luke 15. In that chapter, the parabolic teaching is prompted by a complaint by the Pharisees concerning who Jesus was sharing table with. Its really easy for us to assume that the Pharisees are a bunch of self-righteous, legalistic, exclusivists. I’m sure there were people like that among their ranks. Historically, however, Pharisees were simply good Torah-abiding followers of Yahweh. Some even argue that this is the very tradition Jesus emerged from. I think in many ways, the best idea about the Pharisees we can interpret the Bible with is that they were good church folk like you and I. Perhaps their self-righteous and legalistic flaws are mostly projections of that which we refuse to take responsibility for in our own selves.

If Jesus were addressing these parables to whiny conservative Baptists, he would have been at the table with homosexuals, and atheists. If Jesus were addressing these parables to whiny liberal/moderate Baptists, he would have been at the table with the Religious Right, and skinheads. To be fair, If Jesus were addressing these parables to whiny emerging Baptists, he would have been at a Wal-Mart McCafe networking with white male denominational executives on a PC.

The irony of parables is that most readers assume they vindicate their own cause, when actually they implicate us for our participation in injustice. If we interact with Jesus’ parables honestly, we see that all of us have a “them.” A group or groups of people we draw outside of our circle. People we would be loath to invite to our table. Our resentment of God’s inclusion of them leads us to temporary amnesia about how we ourselves are received by God. Parables can shake us out of that stupor by including us in the story, and inviting us to see our folly in the story’s characters.

As we wrestle with emergence, and the conflict and struggle inherent in that, parables will be indispensable. Parables will keep us honest by not letting us off the hook concerning our own prejudices and hubris. They won’t let us off the hook regarding those who are not emerging and how we relate to them. When we are tempted to assume we’re the good guys, Jesus’ parables will make us ask good questions of that assumption.

Parables expose us. That sort of self-discovery is vital to our becoming, or emerging, more like Christ.

Note: The use of the generic term “guys” in the title has to do with how this phrase is understood in the common vernacular, and not a product of laziness as regards gender inclusivity.