Some of you of a certain age may remember when Journalist Howard K. Smith was the co-anchor of the ABC Evening News along with Barbara Walters. Anyone remember her? In his post as a network news analyst Smith had the opportunity to interview some of our society’s most fascinating people as well as various Presidents. Yet in spite of having a job that most of us would consider high status, he complained that his children never considered him very “hip,” as [they/we] said in those days. In fact, they seemed completely under-whelmed by anything the old man did. No matter how many autographs he collected for them, no matter how many famous names he dropped, the kids still didn’t think he was anything special. But then came the Presidential conventions of 1964.
Smith was sent to San Francisco to cover those conventions for ABC. His family joined him later for a tour of California’s highlights, which included a visit to a new amusement park called Disneyland. The kids were most excited at the prospect of running into their idol, Mickey Mouse. The family spent the day riding all the rides and sampling the various snacks. Then, as they wandered through the park, they happened upon their hero himself, Mickey. Suddenly, the life-sized rodent stared in surprise and exclaimed in a squeaky voice, “It’s Howard K. Smith!”
Smith reports that his young daughter suddenly looked at him with a new admiration and respect. Her dad had been recognized by Mickey Mouse, and this raised his stature considerably in her eyes. Smith glowed in the face of this new-found status. But as he reflected on the incident, he realized that it was frivolous to base his standing on the words of a cartoon mouse. After that, status didn’t mean much to Howard K. Smith. Instead, he focused on living an upright life and no longer caring what others thought of him. (1)
We all like to be recognized, don’t we, even if it’s only by Mickey Mouse? It’s one of the most human of desires. We all want to be somebody.
Bernie Madoff certainly did. You’re familiar with that name. A few years ago Bernie Madoff operated the largest Ponzi scheme in world history. Through this scheme he committed the largest financial fraud in U.S. history. Prosecutors estimated the size of the fraud to be nearly $65 billion. Yes, that’s “billion” with a “b.” That’s based on the amounts in the accounts of Madoff’s 4,800 clients as of November 30, 2008. But when he was exposed, it all came crumbling down. He lost everything dear to him. A son committed suicide, his family and friends turned their back on him. He was stripped of all his wealth—his yachts, his private jet, his homes in exotic locations, everything that gave him a sense of place in the world. And on June 29, 2009, at age 71, Bernie Madoff, the man who seemingly had it all, was sentenced to 150 years in prison, the maximum the law allowed.
Why did he do it? Obviously greed played a role, but it wasn’t the key factor. According to one biographer Bernie Madoff’s driving motivation was to gain recognition. He wanted to be somebody. As a young person Bernie never stood out. He wasn’t smart enough in school . . . not athletic enough . . . not handsome enough . . . not articulate enough. He was rejected by one girl after another. He was a nobody as far as his standards of human worth were concerned. He seemed to have only one gift. He excelled at making money, especially money fraudulently taken from others. And he used that gift to obtain the recognition he so desired. Unfortunately, it was not the kind of recognition anyone would want. The recognition of committing the world’s largest case of fraud destroyed him and destroyed many of those around him. (2)
My guess is that deep down most people long to be somebody. Jesus understood that. Jesus was a master psychologist. He knew that all of us crave recognition. He knew that the desire for status is an innate part of the human condition. Most of us don’t want to simply keep up with the Joneses—we want to be slightly ahead of the Joneses, the Smiths and everyone else on the block.
It is very human to want to be one-up on our friends. There was a Harvard study that I read not too long ago where they asked students, “If prices were the same, which option would you choose: Option A: you make $50,000 per year and everybody else makes $25,000 per year, or Option B: You make $100,000 per year, but everybody else makes $200,000 per year?”
Which option do you think the majority of Harvard students chose? They chose Option A. They would rather make $50,000 and everyone else make $25,000 than make $100,000 and have everyone else make $200,000. (3)
That says something about human nature, doesn’t it? Status is at least as powerful a motivator as money. That’s true today. It was true 2,000 years ago. Jesus knew that, and he saw an opportunity to use that very natural craving for recognition to teach us some very useful lessons.
One Sabbath, Jesus went to eat in the house of a prominent Pharisee. When he noticed how the guests picked the places of honor at the table, he told them a most interesting parable:
“When someone invites you to a wedding feast,” he said, “do not take the place of honor, for a person more distinguished than you may have been invited. If so, the host who invited both of you will come and say to you, ‘Give this person your seat.’ Then, humiliated, you will have to take the least important place. But when you are invited, take the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he will say to you, ‘Friend, move up to a better place.’ Then you will be honored in the presence of all the other guests. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”
Isn’t that a whimsical bit of wisdom? I can almost see the smile on Jesus’ face as he relates it. But you see, in Jesus’ day money wasn’t the primary motivating factor in people’s lives. The dominant value was prestige. Dinner parties were planned according to the social status of the guests. Everyone had an established place on the social ladder. The guest list was very important. It was important that family members and community leaders be honored. Where you sat at dinner revealed your status. (4)
At a formal banquet, it would be absolutely humiliating to be asked to move to the foot of the table. Obviously every culture has its pecking order. It’s silly, of course, but it’s important to some people. I am reminded of an answer Baron Rothschild once gave when asked about seating important guests. His answer was, “Those that matter won’t mind where they sit and those who do mind, don’t matter.”
Obviously Jesus was not interested in helping his disciples win the status game. He knew, however, how potent this drive to be No. 1 is. Ask any employer what is the most important motivator of employees besides money and he or she will say, “Recognition.”
The story is told of the woman who had worked hard raising a family with little appreciation from the family. One evening she asked her husband, “I suppose, Peter, that if I should die you would spend a large amount for flowers for me, wouldn’t you?”
“Of course I would, Martha. Why do you ask?” he answered.
“I was just thinking,” said Martha, “that the expensive wreaths would mean very little to me then. But just one little flower from time to time while I am living would mean so much to me.” (5)
We all want to be recognized. We all want to be appreciated. Jesus understood that. So he gave his disciples this little whimsical bit of advice about taking a secondary seat so that you might be moved up to a greater seat.
Jesus followed this very practical lesson with another. Turning to the host of the banquet, Jesus said, “When you give a luncheon or dinner, do not invite your friends, your brothers or sisters, your relatives, or your rich neighbors; if you do, they may invite you back and so you will be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”
This is a much less probable scenario, but also a much more serious one. Jesus is giving us a lesson about how to make our life really count. If you really want to make your life count, you won’t do it by playing silly games about status and recognition. You’ll quit worrying about what kind of car you drive or wearing the latest fashions or even how spacious your house is. No, the driving force in your life will be serving Christ and making the world better for all people.
Author and Pastor Tony Campolo tells a story of an experience he had at dinner in Port-au-Prince, Haiti, some years ago. He was checking on mission programs that his organization carries out day in and day out in Haiti. He wanted to see how the workers were surviving emotionally and spiritually. At the end of a long day, he was tired and “peopled out,” so it was with great relief that he sat down to eat a good dinner at a French restaurant in the heart of Port-au-Prince.
He was seated next to the window so he could enjoy watching the activity on the street outside. The waiter brought a delicious looking meal and set it in front of him. Tony picked up his knife and fork and was about to dive in when he happened to look to his right. There, with their noses pressed flat against the window, staring at his food, were four children from the streets. They pressed their faces right up against the glass; they were staring at his plate of food.
The waiter, seeing his discomfort, quickly moved in and pulled down the window shade, shutting out the disturbing sight of the hungry children. The waiter then said to Tony, “Don’t let them bother you. Enjoy your meal.” (6)
If you know anything about Tony Campolo, you know that “enjoying his meal” under such circumstances would be far from his mind. Because of his love for Christ, Tony has a passion for helping the forgotten children of this world. If he can find a way to help, he will.
His experience reminds me of a story told by another pastor whose name we do not know. It seems that a layman in a church in one of the most run-down sections of the inner city of a large urban area found his newly-appointed pastor standing at his study window weeping as he looked out over the tragic conditions. The layman tried to console him: “Don’t worry. After you’ve been here a while, you’ll get used to it.”
The pastor replied, “Yes, I know. That’s why I am crying.”
God help us if our hearts ever harden to the conditions in which many people find themselves. It might be children with no one to look after them except a drug addicted mother. It might be an elderly man or woman who has just lost a spouse, it might be a young woman with a newly discovered tumor in her breast. It might be a neighbor who has recently lost his job. The number of people who are dealing with heart-rending issues are manifold. God help us if we simply pull down the curtain and ignore their need.
Jesus is giving us a lesson about how to make our lives really count. It’s not whether you sit at the head table. It’s not whether the maitre d’ at the finest restaurant in town knows you by name. It’s where you sit at the final banquet table which Christ has prepared for all his saints. Those places are reserved for people with compassionate hearts who are willing to do more than give sympathetic nods to those who are hurting, but will also offer a sympathetic hand.
There is an old, old story about a young boy who, on an errand for his mother, had just bought a dozen eggs. Walking out of the store, he tripped and dropped the sack. All the eggs broke, and the sidewalk was a mess. The boy tried not to cry. A few people gathered to see if he was OK and to tell him how sorry they were.
In the midst of the words of pity, one man handed the boy a quarter. Then he turned to the group and said, “I care 25 cents worth. How much do the rest of you care?” (7)
Jesus said, “When you give a luncheon or dinner, do not invite your friends, your brothers or sisters, your relatives, or your rich neighbors; if you do, they may invite you back and so you will be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”
In the long run of things, it doesn’t matter if the cartoon character at the amusement park recognizes you, or even if the President of the country recognizes you. When the final day comes, will God recognize you? That is really all that matters.
1. “Front Lines” by Howard K. Smith, Modern Maturity, May/ June 1997, pp. 18, 20.
2. Andrew Kirtzman, Betrayal: The Life and Lies of Bernie Madoff (New York: Harper, 2010). Cited by Max Lucado, Unshakable Hope (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2018).
3. John Ortberg, http://mppc.org/sites/default/files/transcripts/061203_jortberg.pdf.
4. Dominican Albert Nolan, Jesus Before Christianity, (Orbis 1978). Cited by Anne Bathurst Gilson, http://www.washingtonparish.org/sermon%20sept%202%202001.htm.
5. Robert Conklin, How To Get People To Do Things (New York: Ballantine Books).
6. Tony Campolo, Stories that Feed your Soul (Grand Rapids: Baker Books, 2010), pp. 104-106.
7. Source unknown. https://www.sermonsearch.com/sermon-illustrations/2178/broken-eggs/.