Coach Shug Jordan at Auburn University once asked his former linebacker Mike Kollin, then with the Miami Dolphins, to help with recruiting.
Mike said, “Sure, Coach. What kind of player are you looking for?”

The coach explained: “Well Mike, you know the fellow, you knock him down and he just stays down?”
Mike answered, “We don’t want him, do we coach?”
“No, that’s right.”

Then the coach added, “There’s also the fellow, you knock him down, he gets up, you knock him down again, and he stays down.”
“We don’t want him either, do we, coach?” Mike replied.
“No,” said Coach Jordan.

Finally the coach said, “But there’s the fellow, you knock him down, he gets up. Knock him down, he gets up. Knock him down, he gets up.”
Mike said, “That’s the guy we want, isn’t it, coach?”
“No,” the coach said. “We want the guy who’s knocking everybody else down. That’s the guy we want.”

And isn’t it true? Deep down, that’s the kind of person the world admires—the one who knocks everyone else down, the powerful, the strong, the successful. Those are the people we want to be seen with, the ones we invite to our dinners and social gatherings.

But in today’s Gospel, Jesus challenges us to think differently. He tells us that the very people we ignore—the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind—are the ones we should invite, the ones God Himself honors.

Luke tells us that Jesus was invited to the home of a leading Pharisee. Everyone was watching Him closely. And right away, He notices something: people scrambling for the places of honor at the table.

So He tells a parable. “When you are invited, don’t sit at the place of honor. Someone more distinguished might arrive, and you will be asked to give up your seat in front of everyone. Instead, take the lowest place, and the host will say, ‘Friend, move up higher.’ Then you will be honored.”

Jesus is reminding us: the more we seek honor for ourselves, the more we risk humiliation. Pride always comes before a fall.

History gives us a vivid example. When Charlemagne, the great emperor of the Middle Ages, died, his funeral was filled with pomp and circumstance. His casket was brought to the cathedral at Aix, where the local bishop barred the door.

The herald called out, “Charlemagne, Lord and King of the Holy Roman Empire, seeks entrance.”
The bishop replied, “Him I know not. Who comes?”
The herald tried again: “Charles the Great, a good and honest man.”
Again the bishop said, “Him I know not. Who comes?”
Finally the herald answered, crushed and humbled: “Charles, a lowly sinner, who begs the gift of Christ.”
At that, the bishop replied, “Enter! Receive Christ’s gift of life.”

Even Charlemagne, with all his power and glory, had to come before Christ not as a king, but as a sinner in need of mercy. And so do we.

Then Jesus turns to the host and gives His second piece of advice: “When you give a banquet, don’t invite your friends, your family, your rich neighbors—because they will invite you back and you will be repaid. Instead, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind. Blessed will you be because they cannot repay you. You will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”

In other words, kindness that looks for repayment is not true charity. Doing good so that others will “owe us one” is not the way of Christ. Real love is when we give to those who can’t pay us back—when we serve without expecting recognition or reward.

Mother Teresa once put it perfectly. Someone asked her how she measured the success of her work. She answered, “I don’t remember that the Lord ever spoke of success. He spoke only of faithfulness in love. That is the only success that really counts.”

Thomas Carlyle, the British historian, once said: “Show me the man you honor, and I will know what kind of man you are.” Jesus tells us clearly: honor belongs not to the powerful, but to those who humble themselves, who serve, who give without expecting return.

Why are Christians called to choose the lowest place? Why are we asked to give without repayment?

Because that is what Christ Himself did. This Eucharistic table reminds us:

• He did not choose a palace but a stable for His birth.

• He did not choose a throne but a carpenter’s bench.

• He did not choose the high and mighty, but fishermen and sinners to follow Him.

• He did not rule from a golden chair, but from a wooden cross.

The Kingdom of God does not work like the kingdoms of this world. At Christ’s table, the only seats available are for the poor sinner, the wounded soul, the one who humbles themselves before the Lord.

So how do we stay humble in a haughty world?

First, by not seeking honor for ourselves. Second, by waiting for God to honor us in His Kingdom.

Brothers and sisters, let’s remember: true greatness is not in knocking others down, but in lifting them up. True honor is not found at the head of the table, but at the feet of Christ. And true reward is not in what others give us now, but in what God promises us at the resurrection of the righteous.

Amen.