December 3rd, 2021
Matthew 22: 1-14
22 Once more Jesus spoke to them in parables, saying: 2 “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son. 3 He sent his slaves to call those who had been invited to the wedding banquet, but they would not come. 4 Again he sent other slaves, 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.’ 5 But they made light of it and went away, one to his farm, another to his business, 6 while the rest seized his slaves, mistreated them, and killed them. 7 The king was enraged. He sent his troops, destroyed those murderers, and burned their city. 8 Then he said to his slaves, ‘The wedding is ready, but those invited were not worthy. 9 Go therefore into the main streets, and invite everyone you find to the wedding banquet.’ 10 Those slaves went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad; so the wedding hall was filled with guests.
11 “But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing a wedding robe, 12 and he said to him, ‘Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?’ And he was speechless. 13 Then the king said to the attendants, ‘Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ 14 For many are called, but few are chosen.”
Just As We Are
“And those servants went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both bad and good; so the wedding hall was filled with guests.” Matthew 22:10
The invitation to the marriage feast in our Gospel lesson today is a bit more complicated than the party invitations you received when you were a kid. Those were only sent to select friends, while the invitations in this parable go out indiscriminately: to the thoroughfares and into the streets, summoning everyone to the marriage feast, both good and bad alike. That means that the invitation by itself doesn’t mark the recipients as being particularly special -- at least not compared to others. It’s not really on account of anything about them that they get invited to the feast, because this is no longer an exclusive event reserved for those of a certain pedigree. Everyone is invited and all are welcome to show
up.
So, the wedding hall was filled with guests.
The wedding hall is kind of like the Church. It’s full of guests already, and many more continue to arrive even still. They’ve come from every tribe, tongue, people, and nation -- and they’ve been arriving for a solid two-thousand years by now. Somehow, there always seems to be enough room for the new arrivals. But so far, the King hasn’t really seemed to be in much of a hurry. Come to think of it, has anybody actually seen him yet? When is this feast supposed to start, anyway? Our table has been here for years!
And then, perhaps for the first time, you might wonder if your attendance is worth it. Sure, you’re already here, so you might as well at least stay for the food. But the invitation starts to lose some of its initial significance. Especially when you recall that everyone else was invited just the same. And so, you find that your sense of responsibility to the host is being tested. Your temptation is either to leave the wedding hall altogether or, less conspicuous, to inflate the significance of your invitation and thus to presume that your attendance itself is the evidence of your own right to be there. But while you are preoccupied with such thoughts in your head, the King suddenly appears at the head of the wedding hall. You snap out of it and quickly compose yourself and discover that the other guests at your table (whom you’ve gotten to know quite well during the long wait) are suddenly arrayed in the finest tuxedos and the most fabulous gowns, while you’re still in the clothes you came in.
So much for not being conspicuous.
“Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding garment?,” a voice behind you asks, and turning around, you see none other than the King himself standing before you. And you are speechless. The Season of Advent begins in the wedding hall, so to speak, where all the guests are gathered as they wait for the marriage feast to start. And the catch is that we don’t exactly know when that will be.
Advent is the season of the extended wait time. But the peculiar thing about this feast is that the guests are apparently supposed to get ready after they’ve arrived at the wedding hall. They weren’t dressed up when they got the invitation and they certainly didn’t have time to pick up a bottle of wine for the host. They weren’t invited because they were already the kinds of people who would make good guests. If anything, they were invited because they didn’t have anything better to do. They arrived at the wedding hall just as they were.
Similarly, my guess is that we’re entering Advent this year just as we are -- which, given the year we’ve had, is probably not the most pious or prepared. But the good news of Advent is that anticipation is what joy looks like in advance of celebration. We are already among the guests in the wedding hall, but the point of the parable is that the wedding hall is at the same time the waiting room and the dressing room as well. And if the Church is like the wedding hall, then the Church is where we gather each and every week to put on our wedding garments together, so that when the King appears, we will all be clothed in righteousness and holiness together.
May our observance of this Advent increase in us the joy of anticipation during the wait time for the marriage feast, as we dress ourselves with Christ and the good works that God has prepared for us.
The Rev. Caleb Roberts
Rector, Grace Church, Ponca City
Episcopal Diocese of Oklahoma