Just to keep everyone sane, lets start by admitting that this story is bonkers. If we try to explain away the madness of it, smooth over the rough edges, water down the intensity, we’ll probably go crazy and we’ll definitely miss the point. No, let’s give Jesus the benefit of the doubt and assume that he told a bonkers story because he wanted to. What is he teaching us? Why is he using this sledgehammer of a story to teach it?
Let’s actually begin with the first reading from Isaiah, which will give us a running start at Christ’s parable. Isaiah is writing about God’s holy mountain, where every tear is wiped away, where there is no more hurt or conflict, where a rich feast is set before us to enjoy in perfect bliss. Isaiah uses this very earthly imagery to help us imagine the fulfillment of our hearts truest desires, the kind of fulfillment that leaves behind no restlessness, no regret, no anxiety, nothing but happiness. How do you imagine that? Maybe it’s a little differently than Isaiah. One little guy told me he though Heaven was an endless field of mud and him on a dirt bike. I think that’s great. As long as we remember that all our images fall short.
In the New Testament, the main image for this perfect happiness is the Wedding Feast of the Lamb. The wedding is the marriage of heaven and earth, of Christ the Bridegroom and the Church his Bride. So now, with the stage set at least that much, let’s dive in to this crazy story.
The King sends out invitations to the wedding feast of his son. Now, as social calendar events go, this is pretty definitely number one for a few decades. An invitation to the wedding of the King’s son is an ultimate status symbol, and probably a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. This is your big golden Willy Wonka ticket. This is your Cinderella moment; you’re going to the Ball.
No, they say, they can’t be bothered. They snub the invitation. Like I said, bonkers. It’s like if the Willy Wonka kids had shrugged and thrown away their golden ticket. It’s like if Cinderella had said, “no thanks, I think I’ll just clean the kitchen floor again instead.” But that’s not the half of it. Some of them kill the messengers who brought the invitation. It’s total insanity. People in this story are not acting in any remotely plausible way.
I think Jesus wants this sledgehammer to break through our acceptance of sin and mediocrity. The King has invited us to that Holy Mountain Isaiah dreamed of; he’s invited us to the Wedding Feast of his Son. And many times and in many ways, we’ve snubbed that invitation. This invitation should have been priority number one for every minute of every day, but none of us can say it always has been. We’ve allowed other things to come before it. This sledgehammer of a story brings home just how insane that really is.
How does the King respond? Remember, they’ve snubbed him and killed his messengers. He sends troops to kill them and burns their city. Well, that is how Kings typically respond to such an act of war as the murder of their representatives. It’s very much parallel to last weeks story, in which the tenant farmers killed the landowners’ son, and the disciples said that the landowner would surely kill them in retribution. Both of these stories bring to our attention the severity of the offense. They demand we consider the reaction that an earthly king would have. Is that the way God responds? No, God the Son will say to God the Father, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”
Well, our offended King still has an empty guest list, and so the invitation goes out far and wide. He commands his servants to invite everyone they can find, bad and good alike, everyone! The greatest event there could be, the most glamorous and amazing feast, and it’s absolutely un-exclusive. No one is turned away.
Well, almost no one. There’s one more bizarre happening. It’s this guy who shows up improperly attired. You can probably guess this isn’t about clothes, but about attitude. His attitude is just as insane, just as bizarre as the ones who snubbed the invitation of the century. He shows up, but he treats the invitation with casualness, with disrespect, with ingratitude, with contempt.
And we’ve got to admit that we, too, can be insane in just this way. Sometimes we live as though we expect to slouch up to the gates of heaven and say “Hey, lemme in.” Sometimes we treat our religion as an invitation we can just take for granted, something ordinary and unexceptional. We acknowledge the King’s incredible invitation, but we treat it with casualness, with disrespect, with ingratitude, with contempt.
And cutting off when this passage does, it seems to end on a negative note, with this disrespectful, contemptuous guest thrown out and wailing and gnashing of teeth and all that. But step back and remember the full scene that’s been painted: the Wedding Feast begins. And it’s full. And you’re invited. Everyone is. The hall is filled with anyone who was willing to accept the invitation, and who treated it with any amount of gratitude and respect. When you put it that way, this story really does start to look like awfully good news.
Well, you’ve been invited. It’s up to you to accept the invitation and to allow yourself to be clothed by Christ.
I’m going to end with a story about the last member of the great Austrian House of Hapsburg. Otto
“Who desires entry?”, he asked, following an ancient script.
The master of ceremonies responded, “Otto of Austria, former crown prince of Austria-Hungary, prince royal of Hungary and Bohemia, of Dalmatia, Croatia, Slavonia, Galicia, Lodomeria and Illyria; Grand Duke of Tuscany and Cracow, Duke of Lorraine, Salzburg, Styria, Carinthia, Carniola and Bucovina; Grand Prince of Transylvania,…” I’ll skip the rest of Otto’s 42 titles, all read proudly. But the door warden responded, “we do not know him” and closed the door in their faces.
The MC knocked again. “Who desires entry?”
“Dr. Otto von Habsburg, President and Honorary President of the Pan-european Union, Member and Father of the House of the European Parliament, honorary doctor of numerous universities and honorary citizen of many municipalities in central Europe, member of venerable Academies and Institutes, bearer of high and highest state and Church decorations, orders and honours, which were granted to him in recognition of his decade-long struggle for the freedom of peoples, for what is right and just.”
The Friar did not flinch. “We know him not.” The door was shut.
A third time the herald knocked.
“Who desires entry?”
“Otto, a mortal, sinful man.”
The door opened.
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