World Party
Matthew 22:1-14
It’s been a long time since we’ve read from the Gospels. Over the summer we spent eleven weeks in Genesis and then four weeks in Philippians. The last time we read from one of the Gospels was back in early June, some four months ago! But don’t get comfortable; we’re only visiting. We’ll be in the Old Testament next week.
So that we’re not jumping in cold, let’s get ourselves situated on where exactly we are in Matthew’s Gospel. The setting is Jerusalem. Jesus and the disciples have come to the holy city to celebrate the Passover. The day before Jesus had entered the city to shouts of “Hosanna!” from the crowds that lined the streets. Many of the people who cheered him that day believed that Israel’s Messiah had at last arrived. Surely now God was going to liberate Israel from Roman oppression and make all things right.
Immediately after arriving in the city Jesus headed straight for the temple. He caused quite a stir there by overturning the tables of the moneychangers and, with the aid of a homemade whip, driving out the merchants selling various religious wares.
As you might imagine, this did not win him any friends among the religious establishment. The next morning the chief priests, elders, Pharisees, and the entire presbytery came out to confront him, demanding to know by what authority he was acting. But Jesus wasn’t interested in answering their questions, at least not in the manner that they demanded. Instead, he told them a pair of parables that only further provoked their ire. Matthew writes, “When the chief priests and the Pharisees heard his parables, they realized that he was speaking about them. They wanted to arrest him, but they feared the crowds, because they regarded him as a prophet” (Matt. 21:45).
Not wanting to push the envelope any further, Jesus then tones down his rhetoric.… Of course not! He raises the ante! He doubles down! With the religious authorities still seething with rage, Jesus goes on to tell yet another parable aimed squarely at them. That is the parable before us today.
In the Gospel of Matthew, the kingdom of heaven is a theme that Jesus returns to again and again. The phrase “kingdom of heaven” appears 31 times in Matthew’s Gospel. It’s the central theme of this Gospel, the frequent subject of Jesus’ preaching and parables.
Throughout his parables, Jesus uses several metaphors for the kingdom of heaven. The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, like treasure hidden in a field, and my personal favorite, like workers in a vineyard who despite working different numbers of hours are all paid the same wage. And according to the parable that Jesus tells in today’s reading, the kingdom of heaven is like a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son. The king draws up the guest list and sends out his servants with the invitations. Who would not be honored to attend the wedding of the king’s son? Who doesn’t enjoy a royal wedding?
But one by one people send their regrets. One must tend to his farm. Another cannot spare time away from his business. You know how it is.
In the face of this reluctance, the king sends a second group of servants, saying, “Tell those who have been invited: Look, I have prepared my dinner, my oxen and my fat calves have been slaughtered, and everything is ready; come to the wedding banquet.” He thinks that if the invited guests understand that the table is set, the feast is prepared, and the bar is fully stocked with Dom Pérignon and Johnnie Walker Blue, then surely they will make time for this special occasion.
But those invited to the king’s banquet couldn’t care less. Some make light of it. Imagine attending this fool’s feast! He thinks he can buy me with a banquet? He’d better think again.
Others take matters to the extreme. They seize the king’s servants, abuse them, and then kill them. When word gets back to the king, rather than sending any more servants, he sends his troops to kill the killers and burn their city to the ground. It’s wholesale destruction and devastation.
Still determined to host a wedding banquet for his son, the king then sends a third round of servants, but this time there’s no guest list. Instead, he orders his servants to go into the streets and invite every person they see—good and bad, worthy and unworthy. They are not to discriminate. Absolutely everyone is invited. Like the signs posted outside so many churches, all are welcome.
And it works. This time the people answer the invitation by packing the wedding hall from wall to wall. It’s quite the party. Everyone is having a great time. The food is fabulous. The drinks are generous. The conversation is lively. The DJ is rocking the party.
The king is busy making the rounds, greeting all the guests, when he spots a man who is not wearing a wedding robe. The man doesn’t appear dressed for a wedding at all. He’s wearing a tank top, jeans shorts, and flip-flops. The king approaches the man and says to him, “Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?” The man has no good answer. He’s speechless.
The king therefore orders his servants to bind the man and throw him out into the darkness, “where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” And finally, Jesus ends the parable with a mysterious epilogue: “For many are called, but few are chosen.”
Where is the good news in this rather harsh story filled with violence and condemnation?
What in the name of all that is holy is happening here? I thought the gospel was good news? Isn’t that what the word means? Where is the good news in this rather harsh story filled with violence and condemnation?
Before we delve too deeply into interpreting this parable, let me first offer a word on parables in general. Parables are earthly stories that reveal heavenly truths. They are not stories pulled from the newspaper, which is to say, they are not factual, but they are truthful. In parables we won’t find any details, such as the names of people and places. What was the name of the king who threw a wedding banquet for his son? Where did this banquet take place? What was the city that was destroyed? When it comes to our understanding of Jesus’ parables, none of these details matter, which is why they’re not given.
Also, parables are meant to be provocative. They are designed to raise questions and challenge our expectations. Parables operate according to their own logic, which is the logic of the kingdom of heaven, not of earth.
Now, as far as the Parable of the Wedding Banquet is concerned, we find a logic that can hold in tension two conflicting ideas—grace and judgment…judgment and grace. The key point to keep in mind is that judgment only occurs under the umbrella of grace. The judgment that we find in this parable—both the judgment of the invited guests who kill the king’s servants and the judgment of the man who shows up at the banquet inappropriately attired—is meted out only after an offer of grace is refused.
The key point to keep in mind is that judgment only occurs under the umbrella of grace.
That first appearance of grace in the parable is the wedding invitation that goes out to the first guests. We’re never told why those who are initially invited receive an invitation. Why are they invited and not others? Are they advisors and associates of the king? Do they conduct business with the king? We’re not told. They don’t appear to have done anything that would warrant their invitation. The king simply writes their names on the guest list and invites them to the banquet.
Even after those invited make excuses and decline the invitation, the king shows yet more grace by telling them just how great the party is going to be. “Are you sure you can’t make it? You might want to reconsider.” He even lets them know the dinner menu and explains to them that everything is ready. All they need to do is show up. The invitation ends almost with a plea: “Come to the wedding banquet.”
Only after the invited guests make their refusal to attend the banquet explicit by first abusing and then killing the king’s servants does judgment enter the picture. The king’s desire is to invite and welcome guests to his table. Only when that invitation is violently rejected does the king resort to judgment, and a truly fearsome judgment it is.
The second instance of grace occurs in the wake of that judgment. With those specifically invited having refused the invitation, the king then says, “Well, in that case, I’m just going to invite everyone.” He sends his servants out onto the corner of Main and Broadway with instructions to invite everyone within earshot. The good and the bad. The worthy and the unworthy. Those who would fit right in at a royal banquet and those who would never expect to stand within a mile of the king’s presence. There are absolutely no conditions that must be met, no qualifications that must be presented. Just a willingness to say “yes” to the king’s invitation.
The second instance of judgment follows shortly thereafter when the king eyes a guest who is not wearing a wedding robe. Now, what’s so offensive about not wearing a wedding robe? The invitation didn’t specify a dress code!
This isn’t about dress codes. This is once again about refusing to accept the grace and generosity of the host. Now, I’m going to do a bit of interpretation here. None of what I’m about to say is explicitly stated in the passage, but I think we can safely infer it. First, the king invites people from off the street, just as they are. A guest gathered from off the street with no warning would not be expected to run home, shower, and change into formal evening wear. This is a come-as-you-are affair. Why? Probably because a robe was provided.
Second, the king assumes that the man could have put on a robe. He asks, “Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?” I asked my servants to outfit everyone with an appropriate wedding robe. Where is yours? The fact that the man is speechless—that he makes no attempt to explain himself—suggests that he knows that a robe was available to him. He simply refused to put it on.
And third, the king is not at first hostile or accusatory. He addresses the man as “Friend.” If anything, he seems bewildered that a guest has refused something graciously offered to him. Only after the man cannot answer for himself does the king toss the man out of the party.
Before we get to what this all means for us, I want to talk about what it meant for those to whom Jesus told it. Remember, his audience is a gathering of chief priests and elders from the Jerusalem temple, along with some Pharisees. They’ve confronted Jesus because in causing a commotion at the temple he has indirectly challenged their authority.
All of these men were members of the Jewish religious establishment. They were the educated elite. And in their own minds, they were the good guys. They were the men in white hats defending the faith and traditions handed down over generations from these radical ideas being spouted by this rabbi from the rural backwater of Nazareth.
Through the parable Jesus’ message to the religious leaders is, “Listen, you’ve been invited to the banquet, but you refuse to come. Therefore God has extended the invitation to everyone—Jew and gentile, men and women, slave and free. God has flung wide the doors and invited the entire world to the party.”
Indeed, everyone is on the guest list. Good and bad. Rich and poor. Liberal and conservative. This is not an exclusive party of A-listers. This is not Studio 54 in 1977. There are no velvet ropes separating the haves from the have-nots. Because being invited to this party has nothing to do with what you have but everything to do with what you are willing to receive.
Because being invited to this party has nothing to do with what you have but everything to do with what you are willing to receive.
Are you willing to receive a grace that you can in no way earn? Are you willing to put on the robe of Christ’s righteousness that is given to you? Are you willing to regard all of your qualifications and all of your achievements as nothing more than trash, to paraphrase Paul’s words in Philippians from a few weeks ago?
Because this invitation is the gospel. It is for everyone. This word of forgiveness for those with a guilty conscience, this word of healing for those wounded in body, mind or soul, this word of reconciliation for those divided by conflict, this word of good news for the poor, this word of liberation for all who are held captive…it is for you. And it is for the person sitting next to you. And for the person preaching to you. And for all the people who are not attending church today or who have never sat in a church other than for a wedding or a funeral. This good news of forgiveness, healing, reconciliation, and liberation is for all of us.
Many are called. Indeed, many are called to the table, but few are chosen. The best illustration of the parable’s mysterious epilogue that I can think of is from the novel The Great Divorce by C.S. Lewis. In it, a group of recently deceased people who find themselves in a perpetually grim and joyless city called the “grey town” are given the opportunity to board a bus bound for heaven. Yet many groan and grumble while waiting for the bus and leave the line before the bus even arrives. Of those who do board, most find heaven objectionable for one reason or another. There are people there who are beneath me. I want to be in charge as I was on Earth. I think this is all a trick to make me look foolish.
The sad truth is that some people simply will not accept their acceptance. Some people cannot abide a God who will only take “yes” for an answer. But that is not for us to judge. We are not judges but rather messengers. Messengers tasked with bearing the good news that in Jesus Christ, God is throwing a party, and everyone is invited.