Luke explains why the Pharisees are curious. Sitting with them at the meal is a man with dropsy (ὑδρωπικός, hydrōpikos; a hapax legomenon), also called hydrops after its Greek name (Van Der Loos 1965: 507). Its symptoms are swollen limbs and tissue resulting from excess body fluids. Technically, dropsy is not a disease, but indicates that another medical problem is present. Dropsy was discussed in ancient Jewish material as well as in the OT (Lev. 15:1–12; SB 2:203).6 Some rabbis argued that dropsy resulted from sexual offenses (b. Šab. 33a) or from intentionally failing to have bowel movements (b. Ber. 25a) (for Greek examples, see Van Der Loos 1965: 506). The tradition is late, but it does show that dropsy was often viewed as God’s judgment, either for sin or uncleanness.

Luke also tells us that there was a man there with dropsy. It was not unusual for Jesus to meet someone with a medical condition, and this man’s condition was serious. Dropsy, or edema, is characterized by the buildup of excess fluid in the cavities or tissues of the body. The man was swollen by the retention of water, possibly indicating that his organs were failing. This was the first thing Jesus noticed when he went into the Pharisee’s house: a man in serious need. It is the first thing Jesus notices about all of us: the needs we have that only he can supply.

Unlike the Pharisees, Jesus understood the real purpose of the Sabbath. It was not a day for trying to catch people making a moral mistake, or to gain spiritual merit by keeping laws that were even stricter than the law of God. But it was a day for worship and rest, and also for showing mercy to people in need. As J. C. Ryle explained it, “The Sabbath was made for man—for his benefit, not for his injury—for his advantage, not for his hurt. The interpretation of God’s law respecting the Sabbath was never intended to be strained so far as to interfere with charity, kindness, and the real wants of human nature.”

The miracle that Jesus performed for the man with dropsy was merely an appetizer for the next thing he did at the dinner party, which was to comment on the seating arrangements. Jesus taught the dinner guests not to take the highest place, but to take the lowest place, and to let God raise them up.

This was a major social event: a dinner party hosted by the wealthiest man in town, with a well-known public figure in attendance. In all likelihood, the table was arranged in a U-shaped formation, with the host sitting at the center and the guests sitting on cushions or low couches on either side. The best places were the ones right next to the host, on his right and his left. After that, the best place to sit was as close to the host as one could get.

As Jesus watched the guests gather for dinner, he noticed the subtle and not-so-subtle ways they inched their way closer to the best seats in the house. It is easy to imagine the scene: one man engaging the host in close conversation so as to be right next to him when the call came for dinner; another man sauntering to the head of the table, or casually placing his hand on the low sofa where the host would sit with his most honored guests. They all wanted the best seat in the house. They did it so smoothly that some people might not even notice. But as Jesus watched them make their moves, he could see what they were really doing. He knew that behind their seeming indifference lurked a selfish intention. The close conversation with the host was a social maneuver. The casual hand on the low sofa was a calculated grasp for public recognition.

The only people who will be exalted at the final judgment are people who humble themselves before God, who know for sure that they are unworthy sinners, and who therefore put their total trust in the mercy of Jesus Christ, on the basis of his death on the cross. To go up to glory, we first have to go down in humility. Peter said, “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble. Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you” (1 Peter 5:5–6). What better time to be exalted than at the final judgment, when Christ comes into his kingdom? There may be times when God exalts the humble in this life, but he is certain to exalt them in the life to come, lifting them up to the glory of God. If you refuse to claim that you deserve something from God, but recognize that you do not deserve anything at all without Christ, God will raise you up to eternal life.

In the meantime, make humility your way of life, the governing principle of your ministry or your mission work. Give yourself to others in humble service, honoring them above yourself. For the Christian, this kind of humility ought to be our ambition. J. C. Ryle said, “The man who really knows himself and his own heart—who knows God and His infinite majesty and holiness—who knows Christ, and the price at which he was redeemed—that man will never be a proud man.” If we truly know the grace that God has for us in Christ—the death he died on the cross to save us from our sins—then we know we have nothing to be proud of. This makes us content to take the lowest place, not out of false humility, or as a subtle strategy for self-advancement, but out of true love and honor for Christ. As far as Jesus is concerned, the lowest place is the best seat in the house.

Near the end of The Last Battle, which is the last of C. S. Lewis’s seven Chronicles of Narnia, the great lion king Aslan spreads a sumptuous feast before a group of grumpy old dwarfs. But the dwarfs do not believe in Aslan, and therefore they are suspicious of anything he tries to do for them—so suspicious that they neither see nor taste his royal food. Here is how Lewis describes the scene:

Aslan raised his head and shook his mane. Instantly a glorious feast appeared on the Dwarfs’ knees: pies and pigeons and trifles and ices, and each Dwarf had a goblet of good wine in his right hand. But it wasn’t much use. They began eating and drinking greedily enough, but it was clear that they couldn’t taste it properly. They thought they were eating and drinking only the sort of things you might find in a Stable. One said he was trying to eat hay and another said he had got a bit of an old turnip and a third said he’d found a raw cabbage leaf. And they raised golden goblets of rich red wine to their lips and said “Ugh! Fancy drinking dirty water out of a trough that a donkey’s been at! Never thought we’d come to this.”

When the dwarfs had finished their miserable meal, they congratulated themselves for refusing the king’s royal banquet. This episode has strong biblical overtones, because in his Word God has promised to give his people a feast. This feast is only for those who receive it by faith, however, and like those foolish dwarfs, many people refuse to enjoy God’s invitation to dinner.

Jesus taught about God’s banquet while he was at a Pharisee’s house one Sabbath for dinner. The dinner party began when Jesus walked in the door and healed a man’s disease. Then, as the guests scrambled to claim the best seats in the house, Jesus told them a parable about taking the lowest place instead of the highest place. According to the saving principles of God’s justice and mercy, people who exalt themselves will be humbled, while people who humble themselves for Christ will be exalted.

The parable was mainly for the invited guests, but Jesus also had something important to say to their host: “When you give a dinner or a banquet, do not invite your friends or your brothers or your relatives or rich neighbors, lest they also invite you in return and you be repaid. But when you give a feast, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you. You will be repaid at the resurrection of the just” (Luke 14:12–14).

Earlier Jesus had told people where to sit and where not to sit. Now he was telling them whom to invite, or not to invite, and he was putting it in the strongest possible terms. When you are having a dinner party, he said, do not invite your friends only, or your family members, or the richest family in town, because those people will probably return the invitation. The only selfless way to serve is to invite a guest who has nothing to offer except his need.

Obviously Jesus was exaggerating to make a point. He loved his family and often ate with his friends. Such relationships need to be nurtured. Thus there is a place in the Christian community for reciprocal hospitality, which the command of Christ does not rule out (e.g., Job 1:13; Acts 2:44–45). But for many people this is as far as hospitality ever goes. So Jesus put all of his emphasis on inviting people who are in no position to invite us back. Do not invite your friends only, he was saying, but also invite people who are down and out.

Jesus was distinguishing here between charity, which is a selfless act of love, and mere civility, which is a lesser virtue because it is more in our self-interest. Civility has its place in life, but we should not make the mistake of thinking that we are being charitable when in fact we are only being civil. We should also be careful not to let our civility get in the way of true Christian charity.

Earlier Jesus had told people where to sit and where not to sit. Now he was telling them whom to invite, or not to invite, and he was putting it in the strongest possible terms. When you are having a dinner party, he said, do not invite your friends only, or your family members, or the richest family in town, because those people will probably return the invitation. The only selfless way to serve is to invite a guest who has nothing to offer except his need.

Obviously Jesus was exaggerating to make a point. He loved his family and often ate with his friends. Such relationships need to be nurtured. Thus there is a place in the Christian community for reciprocal hospitality, which the command of Christ does not rule out (e.g., Job 1:13; Acts 2:44–45). But for many people this is as far as hospitality ever goes. So Jesus put all of his emphasis on inviting people who are in no position to invite us back. Do not invite your friends only, he was saying, but also invite people who are down and out.

Jesus was distinguishing here between charity, which is a selfless act of love, and mere civility, which is a lesser virtue because it is more in our self-interest. Civility has its place in life, but we should not make the mistake of thinking that we are being charitable when in fact we are only being civil. We should also be careful not to let our civility get in the way of true Christian charity.

This is a serious issue for self-examination. When was the last time you did something for someone who was not in any position to do something for you? What are you doing to help the people who are disabled? How much are you giving to the poor? J. C. Ryle said, “The Lord Jesus would have us care for our poorer brethren, and help them according to our power. He would have us know that it is a solemn duty never to neglect the poor, but to aid them, and relieve them in their time of need.”

Jesus would have us do this because he wants us to have his heart for people in need—the same heart he had for us when he gave his life for our sins. The guest list he gives us—the poor, the crippled, the blind, and the lame—is the guest list of his own grace. These are the very people Jesus came to save.

According to custom, a wealthy man hosting a banquet would have issued two invitations. The first invitation is the one mentioned in verse 16; it came a day or two before the great event. To say yes to this invitation was to make a firm commitment to attend, because once the host knew how many people were coming, he would start killing as many animals as he needed to feed meat to his hungry guests. Then, when everything was finally ready, a servant was sent to tell everyone that the time had come. Hosts and hostesses sometimes do the same thing today, mailing an invitation in advance, and then sending an e-mail or making a phone call as a reminder. But in a culture that was somewhat less concerned with clocks and calendars, there was always a second invitation, which guests were duty-bound to obey.

This parable was really about God’s plan of salvation and the coming of Christ. As we have seen, the banquet was an ancient symbol of salvation. God wants to have fellowship with his people and to satisfy them with good things. So in the parable, the man hosting the banquet represents God, and the banquet represents his kingdom—the greatest feast that any king has ever set before any guest.

Who would ever wait to inspect his new property until after he had purchased it? Certainly no one in the Middle East, where land transactions could take years, and where every foot of land was carefully described in the agreement of sale.

The same thing could be said about the oxen. No one who had any idea how to farm would even think of buying five pairs of oxen without seeing if they could pull together as a team. Kenneth Bailey compares this to buying five used cars sight unseen, without knowing the make or the model, and without knowing whether they would even start. Besides, if the man wanted to test the oxen they would still be there when the banquet was over.

As for this newlywed—who did not even have the decency to ask to be excused—why not bring his bride to the banquet and dance the night away?

Each invited guest had a different excuse, but on this they were all agreed: they would not come to the banquet (cf. Luke 13:34). In the culture of Jesus’ day, such a deliberate refusal was unthinkably rude. No one ever rejected a second invitation. To accept a first invitation and then fail to come to a party was an unconscionable and probably intentional insult. It could only mean that the invited guests had the utmost disdain for their would-be host. In fact, in some parts of the Middle East such a rude refusal virtually amounted to a declaration of war.

Have you come to the banquet by putting your faith in Jesus Christ? Perhaps you are in the church already. Maybe you grew up in the church as a covenant child. But have you come to Jesus for salvation? If not, then what is your excuse? People always have some reason or another for staying away from Jesus. But what business could possibly be more important than making sure that you have eternal life? What property could be more valuable to have than a title to heaven? And what relationship could ever be more important than the one you can have with the God who made you and sent his Son to die for your sins? If all you have to offer God are excuses, they will sound all too flimsy at the final judgment, when the only people who sit down at God’s great banquet are the people who actually came to Christ.

Have you come to the banquet by putting your faith in Jesus Christ? Perhaps you are in the church already. Maybe you grew up in the church as a covenant child. But have you come to Jesus for salvation? If not, then what is your excuse? People always have some reason or another for staying away from Jesus. But what business could possibly be more important than making sure that you have eternal life? What property could be more valuable to have than a title to heaven? And what relationship could ever be more important than the one you can have with the God who made you and sent his Son to die for your sins? If all you have to offer God are excuses, they will sound all too flimsy at the final judgment, when the only people who sit down at God’s great banquet are the people who actually came to Christ.

God’s invitation to salvation was not just for religious insiders; it was also for poor, broken-down sinners who had never been religious at all. Unless the religious people came to Christ, they would never be saved.

Kenneth Bailey summarizes the meaning of the parable of the great supper:

God’s Messiah is here. He is inviting you to the messianic banquet of the day of salvation. The banquet is now ready. Do not refuse! For if you do (with your ridiculous excuses) others will fill your places from among the outcasts of Israel, and (in the future) an invitation will go out to the gentiles. The banquet will proceed without you. It will not be cancelled or postponed. The eschatological age has dawned. Respond to the invitation or opt out of participation in God’s salvation.

According to the social conventions of the Middle East, strangers like this were expected to refuse the master’s invitation, especially if they belonged to a lower social class. Here is how Kenneth Bailey describes the situation:

A stranger from outside the city is suddenly invited to a great banquet. He is not a relative or even a citizen of the host’s city. The offer is generous and delightful but (thinks the stranger) he cannot possibly mean it. After some discussion the servant will finally have to take the startled guest by the arm and gently pull him along. There is no other way to convince him that he is really invited to the great banquet, irrespective of his being a foreigner. Grace is unbelievable! How could it be true?

This is our Great Commission: to go into all the world and preach the gospel—or, as Jesus put it in the parable of the great supper, to go out to the highways and byways and compel people to come in.

Heed his warning! The Savior is here. His banquet is ready. There is still room at his table. But if we are so foolish as to refuse his open invitation—no matter what excuse we make—it is not just dinner that we will miss, but our very salvation. Do not miss out on what Jesus wants to give you, but come when you are called!

We are taught, firstly, in this parable, that God has made a great provision for the salvation of men’s souls. This is the meaning of the words, “a certain man made a great supper, and bade many.” This is the Gospel.

The Gospel contains a full supply of everything that sinners need in order to be saved. We are all naturally starving, empty, helpless, and ready to perish. Forgiveness of all sin, and peace with God,—justification of the person, and sanctification of the heart,—grace by the way and glory in the end,—are the gracious provision which God has prepared for the wants of our souls. There is nothing that sin-laden hearts can wish, or weary consciences require, which is not spread before men in rich abundance in Christ. Christ, in one word, is the sum and substance of the “great supper.” “I am the bread of life,” He declares,—“he that cometh unto me shall never hunger, and he that believeth on me shall never thirst.”

There is nothing wanting on God’s part for the salvation of man. If man is not saved, the fault is not on God’s side. The Father is ready to receive all who come to Him by Christ. The Son is ready to cleanse all from their sins who apply to Him by faith. The Spirit is ready to come to all who ask for Him. There is an infinite willingness in God to save man, if man is only willing to be saved.