October 11, 2020

Cate Thorn

Ordinary 28     Philippians 4:1-9     Matthew 22:1-14

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 “The king was enraged. He sent his troops, destroyed those murderers and burned their city.” “Bind him hand and foot and throw him into outer darkness where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” Don’t you love it when we encounter these vivid passages in our Bible of a wrathful, angry and destroying God, should we assume this to be a parable of a king to be about God? How do we put such images next to the loving all-embracing God who welcomes us always, forever ready to forgive and restore our relationship?

Today’s gospel from Matthew is the third parable in Jesus’ reply to the question of his authority. The first was the one of the two sons asked to work in the vineyard, one said “Yes” and didn’t, the other said “No” and did. The second one was of the wicked tenants in the vineyard. Each is spoken in the temple to the Jewish religious leaders. We read today’s parable as one continuous story – although it might be seen as two stories juxtaposed. Both use allegory to portray their message. The stories open with the declaration, “the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son.” Given this parable follows the two mentioned it is reasonable to identify the characters thus; the king is God, the son Jesus, the invited guests those who are like the wicked tenants, identified as the chief priests and the Pharisees. The first slaves who are sent out the Hebrew prophets, the second and third slaves sent out the early Christian missionaries, Jerusalem is the city that was burned, it was destroyed about 70AD, some time before Matthew’s gospel was compiled, the ‘good and bad’ who came to fill the banquet hall were the mixed membership of the church.

The first story ends with the wedding hall filled with guests. Guests, both good and bad, gathered from the street by the third set of slaves. It begins with the king calling those already invited to the wedding banquet of his son. According to the custom of the time, as accurate timepieces, much less cell phones with pinging calendar reminders were unavailable and preparation for a banquet was time consuming, invitations were sent out and accepted well in advance. Once the banquet was ready, the host would send notice. But, we hear, the guests “would not come”, without offering any excuses they simply refuse to honour the invitation. It was one thing, perhaps even a privilege to have been invited to such an event. Accepting an invitation in principle for some future event was easy and convenient enough. But now the invitation calls for action and the guests can only see its inconvenience. We might like to ask, “Is this story a parable for back then or is it a story of now?”

For we might be given cause to reflect upon the sense of divine call that brings us to this place of Christ following, however we understand that in our own lives. Maybe we're happy to accept the invitation to belong, to become part of the Body of Christ, the invitation is great – in principle. The invitation becomes however less convenient when it comes to the particular. We’re happy to embrace a discipleship that doesn’t move us outside our comfort zones, to live out ways of discipleship that don’t challenge us to change.

The king then sends out a second lot of slaves to these same people who’ve been offered and accepted his invitation to attend the wedding banquet. The king seeks to persuade them, tempting them with the lusciousness, the desirability and abundance of the feast that has been prepared and laid out ready for them. In order to receive this abundant provision all they’re called to do is respond. In ‘real life’ it’s most unlikely a king would give his subjects a second chance, much less try and persuade them to take that chance up but with allegory there’s a freedom to go beyond the usual. Maybe the author intends to make a point about this king who’s no ordinary king. This is God whose grace goes beyond ordinary expectations or experience.

The second time the invitees give a variety of excuses. Interestingly the preoccupation of the first who give various excuses is with good rather than bad things. They’re not out partying and drinking, no they’re distracted by the vocations to which God has called them. Maybe we’ll have time for God when we’ve finished being consumed with all the things that keep us busy. Perhaps there’s room to pencil God on our ‘to-do’ list, or we’ll simply make a mental note that God is important too. Perhaps God will just wait ‘til we’ve plenty of time.

The first part of the story is framed to speak against the Jewish leaders, perhaps as representatives of their people. Those who hadn’t responded to God’s call to attend the abundant wedding feast of God’s son, who refused to acknowledge Jesus authority. At first they simply did nothing when God called, then they were otherwise engaged and then they became actively resistant, persecuting and killing those who brought and reminded them of their obligation to respond to God’s welcome. The destruction of Jerusalem, the city that was burned, Matthew would wish to make clear was the judgement of God upon people who had rejected the invitation to the God’s banquet in the fullness of time. So as this story tells those invited had proved themselves not worthy. But God’s generosity and overabundant hospitality reaches beyond our imagining.

The king sends more slaves into the main street to invite those they find who will respond to God’s call and they do come and gather, both good and bad we hear. Historically, apparently the church of Matthew’s day offered such openness – it found an eager audience amongst those not welcome elsewhere, the irreligious and outcast, those banned from the synagogue because of mental or physical conditions. Again we might like to ask, “Is this story a parable for back then or is it a story of now?” As we reflect on this maybe we find ourselves thinking this analogy speaks of God writing off the Jewish people and replacing them with the people off the street – maybe even assume the people from the streets now invited are Christians – like us.

Well we could go that way but we still have the second, much briefer story, related to the first to tell. We’re in the midst of this abundant wedding feast, the hall filled with people, both good and bad, who have answered the king’s call. Then the king arrives, the first thing he notices is a man who’s not wearing a wedding robe. This is allegory remember, with its capacity to embrace extensions of reality, so we can put aside the finer detail of how people fresh off the street could be attired in wedding garments, maybe the king’s generosity could extend to include clothing the invited guests with such garment as they arrived. But the thing is that this man stands out, is noticed because he’s not clothed as the others. This story’s being told in the context of Matthew’s gospel with its own particular theme: no privilege on the basis of status. Only a life of transformed attitude and performance counts. Its Matthew’s Jesus who warns the disciples their righteousness must exceed that of the scribes and Pharisees (5:20), that not everyone who says “Lord, Lord” will enter the kingdom of heaven, only those who do the will of the Father in heaven (7:23); that the kingdom of heaven will be taken from those who do not bear fruit and given to those who do (21:43).

The invitation to the wedding banquet, the call to be present – granted those found, those who hear and respond, isn’t dependent on a preapproved worthiness test. But something is asked should we respond – we’re expected to change. To don the garment appropriate to the context, in keeping with the occasion of feasting at this wedding banquet. What is this garment you might ask? Colossians 3 suggests, “Therefore as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.” They echo in the beautiful words from Philippians, “let your gentleness be known to everyone ... whatever is true, whatever is honourable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise think about these things.”

We may know how we’re called to behave and to aspire to live and be people who are clothed thus. We also know we don’t always or consistently succeed. It is so hard to be thus. We do not live in, do not see reflected in the face of the world shown us, such hope or aspiration – rather much the opposite. It’s a struggle for us not to end up simply reflecting that world shown us. It can be hard to hold onto the thread of hope from which such garment is spun. And yet today’s gospel asserts this is what is required of us. To declare, insist there is an alternative way to see the way the world is, another way to live in and respond to the world because there is another way to see it. Insist that the world reflects not just the humanly created images flashing before us rather the world is place that reveals and expresses God’s blessing.

Having responded to the invitation to join the feasting at the wedding banquet of God, we remain aware of our presence there as those who choose to change, to acquire the garment fitting for our place there. It requires something of us, even if some days it feels our faithful response is more form than genuine content. Each day, each moment to choose to look for, seek, notice and speak of a world threaded through with divine presence, of grace and blessing revealed. Of divine grace and goodness bringing all that is into being – more pervasive than and prevailing over anything that would seek or seem to extinguish or deny it.

This parable, so they say, was the third in Jesus’ response to the question of his authority. It was spoken to the religious leaders in the temple. Matthew doesn’t let it rest back there, though – he confronts and disrupts us now, if we have said “Yes” to the invitation to this wedding banquet, quite how are we clothed?