A Sermon preached on Sunday October 11, 2020 at St. Augustine of Canterbury, Wiesbaden and the Christophskirche, Mainz
Isaiah 25:1-9, Philippians 4:1-9, Matthew 22:1-14
I am not certain that right now we need “a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wines, of rich food filled with marrow, of well-aged wines strained clear.” (Isaiah 25:6) I think we would be happy if we could just have our coffee hour back after church again, mind you it did resemble a feast at times! But both the reading from Isaiah and the parable in Matthew’s Gospel are not about a normal meal, they describe what we call the “messianic banquet,” which is an image of the “blessings of the age to come in which those chosen by God share in a rich feast with the Messiah. In the NT this is often pictured as a marriage supper with Jesus Christ as the groom.”[1] For us as Christians this feast is anticipated in the Eucharist.
Now I don’t know about you, but on first reading I would much prefer to be at Isaiah’s feast, than at Matthew’s. The former is a feast “for all peoples.” (Isaiah 25:6) In the latter, the host sends troops to destroy those who refuse his invitation (admittedly they had also mistreated and killed his messengers first) and when one guest shows up without a tuxedo, he is bound hand and foot, and thrown into the outer darkness. That does not sound very Christian does it?
As always, it helps to put the readings into context. Isaiah’s aim at this point in his ministry is to give his people hope. Only recently exiled to Babylon, having experienced the destruction of their city and the very centre of their worship, they will be wondering if they have put their trust in the right God. Yes, says Isaiah, you have. Our God is worthy of praise and exaltation, Our God has done wonderful things, and our God has plans “formed of old, faithful and sure,” (Isaiah 25:1) even if we don’t see the end yet. Our God is a sure refuge for the poor and the needy and in the end, on the last day, on the Day of the Lord, all peoples will come to Zion, by then wonderfully restored, to join in a magnificent feast with his chosen people. For Isaiah’s message of comfort and reassurance it is important to make clear that while one people, Israel, has been chosen as a sign and symbol and example, God is the God of all people and the great promise to destroy the shroud that is cast over all peoples and to swallow up death forever is for everyone. (Isaiah 25:7-8)
So why is Jesus’ parable of the wedding feast so different, and why does it sound so threatening and frightening and even exclusive? We need to look at context again. One of the more disturbing sentences, “The king was enraged. He sent his troops, destroyed those murderers, and burned their city,” (Matthew 22:7) is probably a later insertion by Matthew. You won’t find it in Mark’s earlier version of this parable. By the time Matthew wrote his gospel all down, Jerusalem had already been destroyed by the Romans in AD70. This is what he is alluding to, just like I often bring in a reference to a current or recent event in my sermons to make a story relevant.
Jesus’ intention with this parable is to warn, to try and bring his people back from the brink of a self-inflicted destruction. He also uses it to look back on a long history of rejection. The slaves or servants who are mistreated and killed in the parable stand for the prophets up to and including John the Baptist, who were mocked, ignored, and sometimes killed because of their message. Jesus is teaching against both open rejection and simple complacency. “They made light of” the invitation (22:5), they didn’t see the urgency. Jesus wants to wake them up. God is still inviting you, the chosen people, to be part of God’s kingdom. But if you don’t accept the invitation, then those places will still be used. That is Jesus’ first warning.
The king’s extended invitation is very inclusive, to all the people you find in the highways and byways: Outcasts, lepers, demoniacs, those who carry out despised trades … When Christianity is at its best, we have repeated this pattern, and invited the outcasts of the difference societies we encounter, like the untouchables in India, to follow Christ. Though often of course in a different part of the building, or in a building of their own where we can’t see them.
In the parable we heard how “those slaves went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad.” (Matthew 22:10) The good and the bad, saints and sinners. We like that don’t we. Our slogans are “The Episcopal Church Welcomes You” and “God loves you. No exceptions.”
And that is true …. But – and this is Jesus’ second and perhaps for us more uncomfortable warning, there will still be judgment in God’s kingdom. Everyone is invited, and God’s love reaches out to all people wherever and whoever they are, but that does not mean that they are supposed to stay as they are. On the contrary, to accept God’s invitation is to accept the need to change, to be transformed. Theologian Tom Wright says about this passage: “In God’s kingdom love and justice and truth and mercy and holiness reign unhindered. They are the clothes you need to wear for the wedding. And if you refuse to put them on, you are saying you don’t want to stay at the party.”[2]
In the Bible, clothing is often used as a metaphor for behaviour. In Ephesians chapter 6 Paul calls on that community to “put on the full armour of God” consisting of the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, the feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace, the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. And in Romans 13 (13:14) his call is to “clothe yourselves with the Lord Jesus Christ, and do not think about how to gratify the desires of the flesh.” These are not requirements before you can be invited, but they are an appropriate spiritual and moral response to the invitation, as Paul reminds the Philippians at the very end of that letter: “Finally, beloved, 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. Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me.” (Philippians 4:8-9)
God loves racists. But they have no place in heaven if they stay racist – in fact they will feel as uncomfortable as homophobes and misogynists would too, surrounded as they will be by a real rainbow gathering of all sorts of peoples. God loves ruthless, greedy, and arrogant businesspeople and politicians, but God still wants them to change their ways. I could go on. God loves them, but hates what they do and stand for, because it harms them, harms others, and ultimately harms and mars God’s good creation as well. Jesus healed those with physical ailments. And Jesus offers healing for our moral and spiritual ailments too.
We all have need of transformation. So as we accept the invitation to join in the foretaste of the Messianic Feast that is Holy Communion, let us also allow it – Christ’s real presence – to transform us, that we may be clothed with the Lord Jesus Christ.
Amen.
