“Terrific Table:” The Parable of the Dinner Party, Bean Day, and Attractive Alternatives

The Parable of the Great Dinner

15 One of the dinner guests, on hearing this, said to him, ‘Blessed is anyone who will eat bread in the kingdom of God!’ ¹⁶Then Jesus said to him, ‘Someone gave a great dinner and invited many. ¹⁷At the time for the dinner he sent his slave to say to those who had been invited, “Come; for everything is ready now.” ¹⁸But they all alike began to make excuses. The first said to him, “I have bought a piece of land, and I must go out and see it; please accept my apologies.” ¹⁹Another said, “I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I am going to try them out; please accept my apologies.” ²⁰Another said, “I have just been married, and therefore I cannot come.” ²¹So the slave returned and reported this to his master. Then the owner of the house became angry and said to his slave, “Go out at once into the streets and lanes of the town and bring in the poor, the crippled, the blind, and the lame.” ²²And the slave said, “Sir, what you ordered has been done, and there is still room.” ²³Then the master said to the slave, “Go out into the roads and lanes, and compel people to come in, so that my house may be filled. ²⁴For I tell you, none of those who were invited will taste my dinner.” ’

I served a small, rural church for four years in the beginning of my vocational ministry (though in any sense of the phrase I am still very much “in the beginning”). Advent rolled around, and I created a lunch/speaker series called the Advent Luncheons. I cooked chili, baked potatoes, and soup. I called ministers from the area and invited them to come and speak on topics relevant to the Season of Advent. I advertised to the church and some members of the community.

Now, there was a contingent of United Methodist Women that were my strong supporters and faithful attenders of special events like these. I knew that, even if no one from the community decided to come, there would still be representation from the church and people there learning more about the part of the Christian Year that focuses on Christ’s coming into the world. The week of the first Advent Luncheon, one of the women in my faithful group approached me after worship and said, “We would love to come to the Advent lunch and study this Thursday but, unfortunately, it is Bean Day down at the senior citizen’s center and we can’t miss it.”  Intrigued, I asked, “And whatever is this ‘Bean Day’ you speak of?” She informed me that every Thursday the cooks at the center would prepare a lunch made of a different kind – or combination of – said beans. I suppose I should not have let this rejection pierce to the heart of my vocational being…but I did.

Along with the Advent Luncheons, my wife and I were also planning a New Year’s Eve party for friends of ours to be held at our parsonage after I was finished with our Wesleyan Covenant Renewal at the church. We created a Facebook page, sent out colorful “e-vites,” prepared food and drink, and cleaned the parsonage until it sparkled. Several confirmed their attendance through e-vites and the Facebook event page. However, when the day arrived, the excuses began pouring in. One after one, people began dropping off the party list, and when the ball dropped in Times Square there were three of us meekly offering our “Happy New Year” salutations.

New Year’s Eve and Bean Day were weighing heavily upon my heart! We were getting politely delivered, yet ultimately lame, excuses for absence from these events. This is not the case for the master of the house in Luke 14!

This person was also ready to throw a party, and the guests were all invited. The preparations had been made. The table was set. Fun and frivolity would surely ensue.

The day of the dinner arrives, and the master of the house sends his servant out into the town to check on the invited guests. They offer to the servant their apologies and excuses for not attending. This is where the homiletics get tricky, as well as the modern-day implications for our discipleship. These were not lame excuses. Inspecting your land, tending to your new oxen, and being present for your wedding celebration are not tantamount to Bean Day. This was an agrarian society, contracts heavily involved word of mouth, face-to-face interactions, and hand shakes. Hospitality was huge and wedding celebrations lasted up to seven days. What would it say to your spouse and your families today if you attended your own wedding ceremony but skipped the reception or the honeymoon? Fred Craddock rightly calls these apologies attractive alternatives. Attractive alternatives appear legitimate, are important, and need our attention. The dinner host isn’t dealing with people skipping out because they need to wash their hair and clip their toenails. These people are declining attendance because of economical and familial obligations.

These excuses are often preached as the shocking portion of the parable. They are not.

The second section of the parable involves the master sending his servant out into the town to bring in “the blind, the poor, the crippled, and the lame.” These are people who are in a different economic status, living a different life than those originally invited. The servant goes back into the town and begins to reach out to a different class. I can’t help but think of the rest of Jesus’ dining etiquette in Gospel of Luke. “Don’t sit at the head of the table. You’re sure to be moved down by someone more important than you. Instead, sit at the foot of the table and be elevated.” Those who would have normally ranked higher in the seating chart have fallen away, and so the servant moves down the table, and in doing so moves a few seats closer to where we can find Jesus.

This invitation is often preached as the shocking part of the parable. It is not.

When Methodism was at its greatest in the colonies, states, and the Expansion – when Methodism was the largest denomination – they were ministering with and inviting in  freed slaves, women and children, and coal miners.

They were taking in people that others didn’t want in their churches. In fairness, I must say that it didn’t stay that way (see US United Methodism today with its 92% Caucasian aging demographic, middle to upper-middle class tendencies, increasing costs and declining attendance, etc.) but there was a time that Methodism truly was a great shrub in the garden that took in all kinds of birds from the air to nest in its branches. Methodists didn’t just invite within the lanes of the town they were comfortable with and knew well, or within one specific class of individuals. Methodists did what the servant and the master finally did in the third section of this parable.

This is the shocking part of the parable!

The servant has gone out and invited in the blind, the poor, the crippled, and the lame. There was still room at the table, and so the master sends the servant completely out of the town:

“Go out into the roads and lanes, and compel people to come in, so that my house may be filled.”

Any time you think you’ve gone to least of these, or far enough out of your comfort zone, or into the neediest neighborhood, or the most-shunned group in society, I hope you will find what the servant found: there was still room at the table. There were still empty chairs.

We who are reading this right now are most likely those who have already been invited, know the master and the house and know about the party, and are now battling the attractive alternatives. As Jesus often does, we are humbled greatly by his teaching. We know that the table and chairs stretch on further than we can see and we are probably not the most important guests. We know that if our attractive alternatives take us away there will be others to invite.

For there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one lost sheep who is found than over ninety-nine righteous sheep who already know they are a part of the flock. There will be more rejoicing in heaven over one new guest to the dinner than over ninety-nine who are already on the guest-list and must send their apologies on the day of the party.

We walk the line between Bean Day Thursday and Sunday worship. We must choose where we invest ourselves and who we invite in light of, and often in spite of, the attractive alternatives.