Sermon; 19 Pentecost/Proper 23A; Matt. 22:1-14
Here we go again with yet another brutal and damning parable that lends itself to replacement theology. But while the earlier parables required thoughtful interpretation to come to the conclusion that Christians could also find themselves in trouble if we don't live appropriately, today's parable is explicitly direct at and inclusive of us latecomers into God's kingdom.
In today's story we have a king who wants to throw a wedding banquet for his son. In this story he is not an absentee landowner coming to collect his share of the produce. Here he is an active part of the lives of his subjects and works to bring them all into the party. Like the other parables we have heard, the villagers want no part of what the king is asking/offering.
And like the earlier stories, the king turns to others who will participate in an appropriate manner; previously by throwing out the existing tenants and today by sending out his army to totally destroy the city and kill the inhabitants.
And here we need to pause, because there are two issues we need to address. First is that, in this time and place, the king is ultimately destroying his own property. Maybe not the smartest move. And the second is a scholarly thought that this story indicates Matthew was written after the fall of Jerusalem to the Romans in 70 c.e. The thought is that this story was a Christian interpretation of events in the life of Judaism – again a supersessionist form of theology.
Despite that, now we move to a place where all are invited, both good and bad. This can be a reference back to Jesus' claim that even “the tax collectors and prostitutes” will come into the kingdom of God. It can also possibly reflect the all-inclusive theology found in Acts. We now have a scene where the king has filled his banquet hall with all manner of people.
And this is where the parable becomes pointedly directed at Christians. Yes, we believe that God's invitation and grace have been extended to all people, both good and bad, equally. But here we have Jesus telling us directly that it is one of these new people, it is one of the people picked off the street to join in the banquet, it is one of the late comers, it is one of us, who is suddenly bound hand and foot and thrown into the outer darkness.
If the other parables hinted at it, this parable is explicit – God has expectations and just because we've been invited doesn't mean we have a free ride. What is going on here where a person who accepts a last-minute invitation is tossed out for failing to live up to the dress code? Not everyone keeps a spare tux or gown handy in case they receive one of these last-minute invitations. And on top of that, the king asks him how he got in. Um . . . you invited him! It seems that the king is really to blame here.
But those are surface concerns and we need to look a little deeper. This isn't just a parable, but an allegory in which everything stands for something else. We need to follow this through to the end, and that's exactly where this portion of the story takes place – the end.
The king is God. The son is Jesus. The banquet hall represents the Church. The good and bad people who are invited in represent all those brought into the Church through its evangelistic mission – “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations.” The wedding robe/garment represents the Christian life. And the ejection from the banquet hall into the outer darkness represents the final judgment at the end of the age.
That wedding robe essentially represents the good fruit we talked about last week. The wedding robe signifies that our baptism really is a significant change in our lives, or should be. Loving God, loving our neighbors, living in peace, unity, gentleness, with self-control, and an outward focus that clothes the naked, waters the thirsty, welcomes the stranger, and feeds the hungry is the fabric of our wedding robe.
When we accept the invitation to come to the party we are also accepting the responsibility to behave as if we belong here. When we accept the invitation to eat at the heavenly banquet, we also accept the responsibility to live with a sense of awe and wonder, a sense of thankfulness and joy, and a desire to see that others partake of this feast.
In some sense it's a little like when I say, “The Lord be with you.” __________________, and that lackluster response follows. One possibility is for me to give you another chance and say, “Act like you want to be here!” Another possibility would be for me to say, “If you don't want to be here, feel free to leave.” So let's do this again: The Lord be with you. ____________________.
In a biblical sense, though, this parable is a prelude to Matthew 25:31-46 in which Jesus tells of the separation of the sheep and goats. Those who feed, clothe, welcome, and visit are welcome to stay at the banquet, while those who do not are removed. It also looks back to Matthew 7:21-23 where Jesus says, “Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my father.”
We invite all. We welcome all. But with the acceptance of that invitation are expectations. Those expectations are to bear good fruit. Those expectations are to proclaim the gospel. Those expectations are to work for justice and peace. Those expectations are to respect the dignity of every human being.
Ultimately I don't think this story is meant to scare the hell out of us. Instead, I think it's meant to encourage us to live as if we were clothed in a wedding garment fit for a feast.
So, as we move forward in our faith and out into the world, I want to encourage you to see Christianity as the fabric of your life; something you put on every day and live like you mean it. And to borrow a phrase from the Rite of Confirmation: May the Holy Spirit, who has begun a good work in you, direct and uphold you in the service of Christ and his kingdom.
Amen.