Avoiding Shame, Doing Good

“even though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, 

at least because of his persistence 

he will get up and give him whatever he asks.”

–Luke 11:8

The verse above comes from one of Jesus’ most intriguing parables. 

“Suppose one of you has a friend,” he begins, “and you go to him at midnight and say to him, ’Friend, lend me three loaves of bread; for a friend of mine has arrived, and I have nothing to set before him.’” The one approached answers from behind a closed door, saying that since it is locked and the children are asleep that he cannot help. “I tell you,” Jesus continues, “even though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, at least because of his persistence he will get up and give him whatever he asks.”  As is true of all of his parables, so does this one draw from customs of his era. Still, some components of the story raise questions.

One aspect that could seem odd is the amount of bread requested. Three loaves seems excessive for one dinner guest—even for one like me who loves all kinds of breads! Yet in that era bread was more than simply part of the meal, as it also served as utensils for dipping into the various dishes.

We could also be curious about how the man in the parable would know where to go looking for bread in the middle of the night. That aspect of the story wouldn’t have been a question for the first disciples either as women baked bread in a common courtyard. Thus, it would have been known who in the neighborhood would have sufficient bread left over even at midnight.

Still, a key component to understanding Jesus’ parable is to be clear about the concept of hospitality in that culture. Few of us would go looking to borrow bread from a neighbor at that hour and yet such a request would not have been odd to Jesus’ first hearers. They lived in a society where hospitality was not simply the job of the host, but the entire community. Thus, when the man says to his friend “I have nothing to set before him,” implicit in those words was “I have nothing adequate to serve my guest so that the honor of our village will be upheld.”  Such shared responsibility for hospitality could also seem odd to us, but lives on in many places of our world.     

As part of a sabbatical leave years ago, I enjoyed visiting Turkey. One day, I was flying from Istanbul to Ankara and arrived at Ataturk Airport at least 90 minutes ahead of my scheduled departure time. Thus, I was confused when I got my boarding pass and the ticket agent mentioned the plane was leaving in about 20 minutes. When the flight was announced, there were no boarding zones or assigned seats as everyone rushed for the gate. I also received a full meal in route, too, even though I was flying coach and take-off-to-landing was barely an hour. Both components of that trip felt like a bygone era of air travel.

After retrieving my luggage in Ankara, I was surprised my ride was not waiting as everything on the tour had gone like clockwork. Only later did I realize that the Istanbul ticket agent had put me on an earlier flight than the one for which I had been booked; again an element unknown of in this country. When an hour passed with no ride having appeared and no way to call my tour company, I exited the airport and went to the front curb. The driver wasn’t there either so I re-entered the building and found the Turkish equivalent of a TSA check-point just inside the door. 

As my luggage was being scanned, I mentioned to one of the security personnel how I couldn’t find my ride. He left his station and literally ran down the concourse and soon returned with another man. I told him about my problem and he invited me down to his office as he made a phone call. As he waited for a return call, the man offered me some tea and asked about my visit to Turkey. Minutes later, he heard from my tour operator who said that the driver would be arriving shortly. The man escorted me to the place I needed to stand and my ride appeared soon thereafter. The rest of the tour unfolded without a hitch.  

Such active hospitality was the cultural norm behind Jesus’ parable, too. Thus, the man who resisted providing bread with a feeble excuse of the door being locked or fear of waking the children would have sounded unimaginable to those who first heard the parable. They couldn’t have conceived of one who would violate the code of hospitality for such reasons. Thus, Jesus sets the stage and then concludes, “even though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, at least because of his persistence he will get up and give him whatever he asks.”

The avoidance of shame has always been a great motivator. A student may complete all the homework not for the satisfaction of learning, but to prevent being embarrassed should the teacher call on her the next day. A taxpayer can decide to follow all of the rules not because he thinks they are fair, but to avoid the angst of an IRS audit. A driver can adhere to the speed limits, not because they agree the boundary is reasonable, but because she or he remembers the humiliation of being pulled over in the past and seeing other drivers look their way. 

Seeking to avoid shame can result in all kinds of good behavior even if it doesn’t match one’s preferred choice and perhaps that is what Jesus was saying about the friend who finally helped the neighbor in need. Then again, I could have completely missed Jesus’ point. What do you think?

All-knowing One, you alone act always from pure motives.  Help me to grow in making the right choice for the right reason, even when I have no bread to share.  Amen.