Sermon

Our Worthy Response

by the Rt. Rev. Martin S. Field, Bishop of West Missouri

The Gospel lesson for this day, sometimes referred to as the “Parable of the Wedding Banquet”, could, I think, more appropriately be called the “Parable of the Insulted King”.  Here’s why.

It was common for kings or important personages to throw wedding banquets, to which they might invite the entire village.  But this banquet — Jesus makes clear — has special allusion to the promised banquet of the messianic era.  It’s a metaphor.

It’s a strange and unexpected story of a king who throws a wedding party, most likely for his son, which was a very common thing to do in those days.  Indeed, to understand this story, we need to take a moment or two to examine both near-eastern wedding etiquette and the power of kings in Jesus’ time.

But remember throughout: this parable describes aspects of the Kingdom of God.  It is a story with a meaning, a moral, a message.

In our story, we hear that the host—the King in this case—calls his guests to his feast three times.  Why?  Well, ancient papyri discovered throughout the Holy Land testify to a practice of double invitations, both among the upper classes and in the regular village life of commoners.

The king previously, before our story begins, honored his would-be guests with a first invitation – a warning invitation if you will – and apparently they all gave the appropriate response and agreed to attend.

This first or warning invitation was issued because, in ancient times, the exact time when the preparations of a feast would be completed was difficult to determine in advance.  Therefore, there’s this first invitation, and then a second invitation would be sent out at the appropriate hour.  The second invitation, which we hear about in the parable, is merely to inform them that the dinner, the dinner they’ve already agreed to attend, is now ready.

Note, if you will, that attendance at weddings was a social obligation in Palestinian Judaism, and attendance was a “command performance” when one was invited by a higher, richer, more powerful person, particularly one upon whom one was socially dependent.

But in Jesus’ story the would-be guests, now invited not once but twice, make no move to attend.  So, the king sends out his servants again, issuing, in effect, a third invitation.  Such is this king’s courtesy that he overlooks the social faux pas of the invitees and gives them even more chances to attend than would be normal.

Again.  Remember, this is not just a great story, this is a metaphor for the Kingdom of God!

Anyway, a guest who refuses to come at this point is clearly going out of his or her way deliberately to insult the dignity of the king who has counted on their attendance and graciously prepared food for them.  Then again, for all the invited guests to refuse to come would greatly shame the host, and, therefore, this unanimous refusal barely disguises what must be a concerted plan to purposefully insult the host.

Moreover, for the king to graciously extend the honor of an invitation to a banquet, and be rebuffed as if his benefaction was meaningless, is more than a traumatic breach of the social order; it is an act of rebellion.

Slaughtering messengers (as happens to the king’s servants in the midst of spreading the third invitation) constitutes an explicitly revolutionary act, and Jesus’ audience would naturally be drawn to side with the king and applaud his just rage . . . . that is unless they became aware that the lesson was aimed at them — which it is!

The violence of the king’s reaction is, perhaps, abhorrent to modern ears, but realistic nevertheless; after such an insult to an ancient king's honor, nothing less than the vengeance depicted would satisfy his dignity: “The king was enraged.  He sent his army and destroyed those murderers and burned their city.”

Vengeance restores some of the king's honor, but to recoup it more fully the king must invite other guests who will accept his invitation, even if they are of much lower status than the first invitees.  The matter is urgent: otherwise the freshly prepared food will spoil.

So, the King has his servants go out to the streets and find a new batch of guests, ones that will obey his summons, no matter their social or moral standing.

So now we’ve arrived at the story’s first main teaching: the arrogant often ignore God, so God seeks the lowly of this world, for it is such as theses who will humbly acknowledge his reign.  Again, a metaphor for God’s Kingdom.

Welcoming both the good and bad (as the passage says) has clear echoes of Jesus' own mission to sinners, and it reminds us that grace not only forgives but also transforms.  All are welcome, but the expectation of one who enters is that they will not remain who they are at entry, but will be transformed at the banquet.

Here’s what I mean.  Back to our passage.

Once the newly chosen guests have begun to dine, the host enters to greet his guests, and that’s where a second parable-within-the-parable begins.

He enters after the banquet has begun, as is customary, and he spies an attendee without proper attire: in essence a man is wearing mud-stained overalls to a white-tie affair, and the king is angered.

We probably aren’t surprised by the man’s clothing.  After all the story seems to indicate that the king’s servants had just swept the streets like an old, British Navy “press gang” and brought in every person they could find without giving them any chance to prepare.  The surprise to us is that there’s only one in dirty, unacceptable clothes, only one clad in a way unfit for such an auspicious occasion.

But here’s the twist.  Some scholars believe that ancient hosts may have actually provided wedding garments to their guests as they entered to ensure that each was attired in such a way that the host would not be insulted.  On the other hand, the term wedding clothes (as used in our lesson) may simply refer to clean garments as opposed to soiled ones.

Whether gowns were passed out or not, to come to a wedding in a soiled garment insults the host, and this host is in no mood to be further insulted.  Patrons invited their social dependents to banquets expecting due honor in return, and this man — like the first and now punished invitees — has responded to grace with an insult.

This second, mini-parable shows another reality of the Kingdom of God.  Just as most of the Jewish leaders were unprepared at Jesus' first coming, some professing disciples of Jesus will be unprepared at his second coming.

Unprepared Christians are those who have not put on wedding garments, those who have made no attempt at transformation of life into the being of a kingdom person, a citizen of heaven, a child of God.  Professing Christians who insult God's grace by presuming on it and who make no use of God’s grace to grow into the moral stature of Christ — thus failing to honor God’s Son — will be banished to outer darkness and weeping where there will be gnashing of teeth.  Many are "called" or invited by the Gospel’s message of repentance, but only those who respond worthily will share the inheritance of the chosen, covenant people.

“Only those who respond worthily . . .”

Who are you in the parable we’ve just examined?  The King in the parable is God, so that’s not you or me.  The wedding banquet is for his Son, so we’re not the groom.  We have been called to the banquet by the servants of God: prophets, apostles, teachers, sages, preachers, and priests through the years, so we’re not the servants.  We have heard the summons, the call, the invitation, so we are the invitees.

But here’s the rub.

Do you see yourself as one of the guests who refused to come?  Or are you one of the guests in attendance?  Have you attended the Kings white-tie affair in dirty rags and filth?  Or have you been so clothed — so transformed — as to bring the King honor?

How worthy has our response been, my friends?  How worthy has our response been to the abundant blessings of God, to his invitation to the banquet, to his grace and salvation, to transformation of life?

The King has called us to his banquet.  His grace invites us to — as the prophet Ezekiel writes — “a new heart and a new spirit”, a transformed way of living that far exceeds that which is offered by this mundane, material realm.

Next week, this cathedral church will begin this year’s Stewardship Campaign.  Will you respond “worthily” to the King whose banquet you are even this day enjoying?  Will you allow God to transform the way you use his gifts of time, talent, and treasure?

Today’s parable—from Matthew’s Gospel—reminds us of one unavoidable aspect of the Kingdom of God: only those who respond worthily to his grace and invitation will share the inheritance of God’s chosen people.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

© Grace and Holy Trinity Cathedral