Dig Deeper into Sunday’s Gospel: Read Luke 14:1,7–14
I never expected to learn "How to Host a Proper Dinner Party" from the Bible. (Although I did find "How to Best Remove the Fat of a Bull Sin-Offering" in Leviticus 4:8!)
Move over, Emily Post—Jesus is the next big etiquette influencer.
All kidding aside, in this Sunday's gospel, Jesus uses the familiar setting of a dinner party to teach us far more than etiquette. He offers us radical lessons in humility and hospitality.
On Humility: Quit the Scramble and Sit Tight
Jesus, ever the keen observer of human nature, notices the scramble for seats of honor among the guests. In the time of Christ, where you sat at a banquet reflected your worth in society—sitting closer to the host meant a higher status. His instruction then to take the lowest seat (Luke 14:10) was shocking and countercultural. No one wants to be seen as lesser.
Today, our scramble looks different. We may not fight for banquet seats, but we do strive for recognition; we vie for the “higher seat” through our homes, careers, children’s successes, and even our social media presence. We long to be seen as valuable and worthy.
But Luke’s gospel reminds us: true honor in God’s kingdom is not earned through self-promotion, but received when we choose humility. As the first reading reminds us, “Humble yourself the more, the greater you are, and you will find favor with God” (Sirach 3:18).
Pope Francis calls humility “the gateway to all virtues,” explaining that “whereas pride and arrogance swell the human heart … humility restores everything to its correct dimension.”[1] Intentionally "taking the lowest place" or humbling ourselves as Jesus instructs us isn't about thinking less of ourselves. Instead, it’s prioritizing the needs of others over our own and acknowledging our dependence on God.
And here’s the real gift of this virtue: humility brings freedom. It liberates us from the endless cycle of comparison and competition. With a humble heart, we can serve without seeking applause, love without expecting repayment, and celebrate others without envy. Humility settles our striving. Our hearts are freed from worldly attachments, and we can instead attach ourselves to God. We don’t need to fight for a place at the table—Christ has already reserved us one.
On Hospitality: Rethink Your Guest List
The second part of Jesus’ teaching challenges us even further, delving deeper into the meaning of Christian hospitality. When hosting a banquet, He advises us not to limit our invitations to our friends and family, but rather, to “invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind” (Luke 14:13).
Jesus is asking for more than just run-of-the-mill hospitality here. He is calling us to something more radical—not just to expand our guest list, but to extend our hearts and resources to those who will never be able to repay us. Our responsorial psalm reminds us that God is “father of orphans and the defender of widows … God gives a home to the forsaken” (Psalm 68:6–7). His heart always moves toward the ones left behind and neglected. And if we bear His name, our hearts need to move in that same direction.
Our culture often reduces hospitality to solely entertaining and appearance: perfect menus, matching linens, and Instagram-worthy backdrops. Jesus calls us higher. Kingdom hospitality is different. It’s about presence more than presentation. It’s about making room for those who cannot repay us—not just in our homes, but in our schedules, our friendships, our hearts.
As women, God has entrusted us with unique gifts for relationships, for welcoming and nurturing life. Our feminine genius enables us to notice, draw near, and create spaces where others can encounter God’s love in a personal way. A heart that beats with humility will naturally open toward kingdom hospitality.
Let’s be honest, though, this is challenging. Humility pushes up against our human instinct for self-preservation. And hospitality toward the marginalized requires vulnerability and sacrifice. It’s much easier to stay comfortable with the familiar crowd, isn’t it?
Yet, when we are vulnerable and accept sacrifice, when we are willing to be uncomfortable for Christ’s sake, that is when the gospel comes most alive. The low seat and the open table are where we meet Jesus most intimately—because they are the places He chose for Himself. He came not to be served but to serve, and He spent His life among the overlooked, excluded, the poor and the sick, the neglected and the orphaned.
And here’s the beautiful part: Jesus desires to extend His divine hospitality, not just to us, but through us—through our hearts, hands, and feet—and into this broken world. Jesus is unknown by far too many; too many of our brothers and sisters feel abandoned and forgotten. He is calling us, with hearts grounded in humility, to seek them out, embrace them, and bring them home.
So, how can we cultivate humility and practically live out kingdom hospitality?
My friend, this Sunday’s readings give us a glimpse of God’s own heart—a heart that bows low in humility and opens wide in hospitality. Let’s not forget the ones He calls precious. Let’s resist the pull to scramble higher for recognition and instead stoop lower to serve. Let’s open our tables, our hearts, and our lives to those who cannot repay us, knowing that when we welcome them, we welcome Christ.
For in the end, the One who took the lowest seat on the cross has already prepared the highest place for us at His heavenly feast.
With you at the table,
Jeannine
Food for thought or journaling …
Reflect on a time when you felt truly seen and welcomed. How can you offer that same feeling of kingdom hospitality to someone today?
O Jesus, meek and humble of heart, make my heart like Yours. Amen.
[1] Justin McLellan, “Humility is the ‘gateway to all virtues,’ pope says,” United States Conference of Catholic Bishops, May 22, 2024, https://www.usccb.org/news/2024/humility-gateway-all-virtues-pope-says.
