I have to admit that this Gospel text for today is one that has always troubled me. The first part of the parable is fairly straightforward, but the second half is always what’s bothered me. The king throws out this one banquet guest because he is not dressed properly. Always seemed a bit of a reversal on the theme of invitation and acceptance that the parable seems to promote in the first part. You’re invited, but you still might get thrown out.

 

I think part of my issue with it has to do with the story my grandfather used to tell about why he never went to church. Back when he was a young man attending church, a poor family came into the congregation to worship. Now this would have been probably before my grandfather went off to fight in the war, so we’re talking 1930s, we’re talking Depression era here. So you can imagine that these folks didn’t have a lot; their clothes were probably a little torn, maybe dirty. And the pastor of the church demanded that they leave because they were not dressed properly. I can’t remember if my grandfather, in his anger, got up and left with them, but I do know he rarely darkened the door of a church after that.

 

It’s easy to imagine that pastor using this parable as justification for this outrage, but is that what it means? Probably not. If anything that’s taking it much too literally. But what is its meaning? To fully answer that question, we must look at the context of this story. When and why is it being told?

 

This parable is the third in a series of parables, the first two we’ve already had these past two weeks. We’re in the 21st and 22nd chapters of Matthew, which is, I might add, post-Palm Sunday in Matthew’s narrative. We’re in the last week of Jesus’ life. The patience of Jesus’ enemies has almost run out and the stakes are now higher than ever. These parables are among Jesus’ strongest attacks against his enemies. He’s not pulling any punches here. These are harsh words, powerful words, because time is running out and Jesus is determined to get his message across.

 

And who are the enemies? Well, the Pharisees, the Sadducees, the chief priests, the scribes, pretty much anyone tied to the old religious order. Not all of them, of course, there are exceptions. People among the hierarchy who have taken Jesus’ words to heart. But many of them are too hard-hearted and close-minded to listen, too afraid and threatened by change to open themselves up, too convinced of their own rightness to hear and see Jesus for who and what he is.

 

This parable is about them. A king is throwing a wedding banquet for his son, for the crown prince. And he invites all the nobility and the aristocracy to attend. But they all refuse the invitation. They’ve got better things to do. Now, my historical memory may be rusty about some things, but I do know that high on the list of “things not to do” in a monarchy political system is “say no to the king.” And yet that’s exactly what happens.

 

So our frustrated king opens the doors of his hall to the masses, to the commoners, to the people of the fields and of the street. And in they come. But there’s this one who comes in his work clothes, dirty and disrespectful. And, in anger, the king has him thrown back out into the street.

 

Why? Well, the political angle of this parable cannot be overlooked. This is the king doing the inviting. And the nobility ignore the invitation, an act of open defiance to the king’s authority and respect. Sedition, rebellion, is what that is. And the man in poor clothing. We often assume he’s there because he’s a commoner and has nothing better, that he’s dressed so out of necessity. But that’s not really what’s happening here.

 

I’ve since learned that it is the obligation of the host, in this case the king, to provide wedding robes to the guests, so that none upstage the bride and groom. And here is this man not wearing one. If he was given it, why has he not put it on? Thus, he too is defiant, openly mocking the banquet with deliberate disrespect. He mocks the king, his son, and the new bride. He’s no different that the rebellious nobles and finds himself thrown out as a result.

 

Who are these defiant ones? Of course, all of Jesus’ enemies. All those so convinced of their own rightness that they either ignore or mock God’s call. They don’t need God. They have their religion, their piety, their doctrines and dogmas, their wealth, and their power.

 

Now if Jesus were here right now, standing in this church, who would the defiant ones be in this day and age, in this context? Well, it would be a lot of folks in pews very much like these. All those tied to the new religious order. Oh, much like in Jesus’ day, there are exceptions, but the numbers of those convinced of their own rightness are many.

 

It is said that the two most basic things a human being desires are to be right and to be loved. The cynical will often say that religion is a nice package deal; it gives us both. An invisible god who loves us no matter what and a framework, lifestyle, and club membership that affirms our own rightness. Now, while I believe the institutional church has its problems, I’m not quite that cynical. Yet, there are on to something.

 

Look at what so often happens in the church. Folks will say that if you don’t believe A, B, C, X, Y, Z then you’re not a real Christian. I had a “friend” on the MySpace networking site once, a woman who saw I was from Davis, said she was moving here, and was curious about the area. But she began to send me messages about how Roman Catholics aren’t really Christian because of some of their traditions. I also had a man come up to me at the Blackwater Chapel, years ago, who told me that I had a gift for preaching, but that I was wasting it because I wasn’t a part of a “real” church.

 

Why do we do stuff like that? Why believe that if you don’t worship in a certain way or adhere to a particular doctrine or interpretation of Scripture then you’re not a true believer? Who are we to make such judgments?

 

Look at the church. You have the Roman Catholics with their rite and ritual and ancient traditions. You have us Lutherans, who do not fall very far from the Catholic tree in worship style. Our doctrine is different, but on the surface we look a lot alike. You have the Baptists with their full immersion believer’s baptism. You got the Pentecostals with the charismatic movement, arm waving, speaking in tongues, and all that. You have this wondrous diversity in the Church.

 

Who is right? Are we? Are they? Or is the whole point of these parables to remind us that it really doesn’t matter? You see, the problem with our defiance is that we’ve completely missed the boat. They say we all want to be right and all want to be loved and somewhere along the line we’ve come to think that being right is what saves us. But we’re wrong. We’re not saved because we’re right. We’re saved because we are loved.

 

God throws open the doors of the banquet hall and calls for all to enter. Come and rejoice. Come and enjoy. Come inside and leave behind all the labels, all the doctrines, all the arrogance and rightness. Come inside and put on the robe of joy that God gives to each of us, because his son came to earth, lived, died, and then rose again for us. He sent him because he loves us and he did all because he loves us. It’s not about what we believe, it’s about who. It’s about Christ and his love, a love so great as to die and rise again for the whole world. That’s what really matters.

 

Come to the feast. Amen.