22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time 2025

Have you ever been to a wedding reception and wondered, “Where am I supposed to sit?” 

Maybe you found a spot near the head table, only to realize later that it was reserved for family. 

And then comes that awkward moment—someone taps you on the shoulder and says, “Sorry, these seats are taken.” 

You have to get up, gather your things, and shuffle off to a less important table.

It’s embarrassing. We all know that feeling of wanting to belong, of wanting a good place at the table.

Jesus notices the same thing in today’s Gospel. People were jockeying for the best seats at the banquet. 

So He tells a story: “Don’t put yourself in the place of honor. Choose the lowest place. Then the host may come and say, ‘My friend, move up higher.’”

That sounds like simple dinner etiquette, but Jesus is pointing to something much deeper. He’s teaching us about humility and about the Kingdom of God.

The world tells us: grab the best seat, fight for recognition, look important. 

We see it everywhere—on social media, in our workplaces, even in families. 

Too often the poor, the voiceless, the people on the margins get pushed to the side, made invisible, left without a seat.

But God sees differently. The Psalm today says: “God, in your goodness, you have made a home for the poor.” 

That’s God’s banquet. He gives the seat of honor to the ones the world overlooks.

And Jesus pushes it even further. He says, “When you give a banquet, don’t just invite your friends, your family, or your wealthy neighbors. Invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind.”

Why? 

Because that’s how God loves us. God invites us to His table not because we can repay Him, but because He is good and generous. 

That’s what we celebrate at every Mass—the Eucharist is God’s banquet, and every one of us is here not because we earned a seat, but because Christ has invited us.

 So what does this mean for us? 

It means that humility isn’t just about being polite or self-deprecating. 

Humility means seeing as God sees—recognizing that every place at the table is a gift, and making space for those who are usually left out.

It means practicing hospitality that doesn’t look for repayment—welcoming the neighbor who is lonely, sharing with the person in need, giving time and attention to those who cannot give anything back.

It means our parishes, our families, our own tables are meant to look more like God’s banquet than the banquets of the world.

And here’s the promise: when we choose the humble place, when we make room for the poor, when we live with generosity—then one day, at the great banquet of heaven, the Lord Himself will say to us, “My friend, move up higher.”

That is the only seat that really matters.