Twenty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time
31 August 2025
First Reading: Sirach 3:17-18, 20, 28-29
Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 68:4-5, 6-7, 10-11
Second Reading: Hebrews 12:18-19, 22-24a
Gospel: Luke 14:1, 7-14
Reflection By:
Bro. Carlo Alexis Malaluan
Diocese of Imus
In Filipino culture, there’s something sacred about a "handaan" —a feast, a gathering. Whether it’s a wedding, a town fiesta, a graduation, or even a simple birthday, meals are never just about food. They’re about relationship. To be invited is to be noticed, remembered, counted. To be welcomed and given a place at the table is to feel that your presence matters. There is a beautiful Filipino word for this, "Kumbida" from Spanish, "Con vida", pointing out that it is not simply meals that we share but life.
We all know that feeling when we’re treated with special regard at a gathering—when someone sets aside a seat for us, serves us first, or even calls us by name with affection. And perhaps, just as deeply, we also know the sting of being left out, of not being invited, of being placed on the margins — literally and figuratively.
So when Jesus speaks in today’s Gospel about a wedding banquet, we understand what’s at stake. He watches as guests choose the best seats for themselves — the places of honor. And He offers a gentle yet piercing parable: “When you are invited, go and take the lowest place… For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”
At first, it might seem like a lesson in social etiquette. But Jesus isn’t teaching manner. He’s teaching the posture of the Kingdom. In a world where we often measure worth by status, recognition, or visibility, Jesus reminds us that at His table, the most honored are those who do not demand honor. The most welcome are those who do not compete for space, but create it for others.
He then turns to the one hosting the meal and says: “When you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind.” It’s a reversal. The usual logic—of inviting those who can repay us—is dismantled. Jesus invites us into a deeper way of relating: one that does not seek return, but gives for the sake of love.
This is challenging. Because so often, even unconsciously, we carry with us a desire to be seen, to be acknowledged, to be rewarded. Even in our acts of kindness or service, we might quietly hope for a thank-you, a seat of honor, or at least a sense of recognition. But the Gospel invites us to a purer kind of generosity—one that mirrors God's: generous without conditions, welcoming without counting.
And perhaps that’s what Jesus wants us to see: that the true banquet of the Kingdom isn’t about where you sit, but how you love. It’s not about being important in the eyes of others, but being small enough to make room for someone else.
In our Filipino gatherings, we know how it feels to be part of the celebration, and how deeply human the longing is to belong. But Jesus teaches us that the deepest belonging comes not from being treated as special, but from treating others—especially the overlooked—as beloved.
So today, we might ask ourselves: In the gatherings of my life—at home, in community, at work—do I seek the place of honor, or do I create space for others to feel honored? Do I give only where I expect return, or am I learning to love quietly, freely, like the Host who invites all?
Because in the end, the truest feast is not the one where we are celebrated, but the one where we make others feel they have a place at the table.
Prayer
