RSVP, Appropriate Dress Required
9 October 2011
Proper 23A
Beijing China
Exodus 32:1-14; Psalm 106:1-6, 19-23; Philippians 4:1-9; Matthew 22:1-14
Once more Jesus spoke to the people in parables, saying: "The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son. He sent his slaves to call those who had been invited to the wedding banquet, but they would not come. 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.' But they made light of it and went away, one to his farm, another to his business, while the rest seized his slaves, mistreated them, and killed them. The king was enraged. He sent his troops, destroyed those murderers, and burned their city. Then he said to his slaves, `The wedding is ready, but those invited were not worthy. Go therefore into the main streets, and invite everyone you find to the wedding banquet.' 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.
"But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing a wedding robe, and he said to him, `Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?' And he was speechless. 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.' For many are called, but few are chosen." (Matt. 22:1-14)
God,take away our hearts of stone and give us hearts of flesh. Amen.
When I was a young Foreign Service officer, I had an experience that forever changed the way I read invitations. I always knew that the RSVP (répondez, s’il vous plaît) bit was to give the organizers enough information so that they could properly plan and execute the event. And I knew that the “Dress: formal” meant black tie, and “informal” meant business suits. But when I received an invitation from the U.S. Ambassador to China to attend an outdoor reception with country-western music, marked "casual," I assumed that this meant comfortable, especially since it was taking place in the late summer, when Beijing is hot and humid. I knew that some of my colleagues were wearing western wear in keeping with the party theme. I also knew that most of my colleagues from the Embassy political section would be wearing business suits anyway, presumably on the principal that one can never never be too rich, too thin, or, in the diplomatic service, too stuffy or too formal. This was, after all, work. It was a social "obligation", where I would be "on the clock" as it were. But it was going to be hot, and the invitation said "casual." So I decided to wear a nice linen suit that I owned, made for the tropics, with knee-length short parts. The day after the event, I was called into the office of the Minister Counselor for Public Affairs, who proceeded to scold me and berate my lack of judgment for showing up at an Embassy event in shorts. “But the invitation said “casual,” I replied, “and my mom always told me that being overdressed for an event was as bad as being underdressed.” This simply infuriated my boss, who, after all, was trying to prevent me, and more importantly, him, from further embarrassment caused by young Mr. Hutchinson’s bad judgment. He stood, pointed his finger dramatically in the air, and said, “The invitation said casual. It did not say beachwear!”
I took the message—no matter what, never wear shorts at an event where the Ambassador was hosting; never wear shorts at a working representational "social" event.
I took the message—no matter what, never wear shorts at an event where the Ambassador was hosting; never wear shorts at a working representational "social" event.
Today’s Gospel reading is all about RSVPs and proper dress for a command social event. Jesus recounts a parable—a comparison that tells us about our relationship with God by drawing a parallel with something from regular life—a detail, practice or story—sometimes mundane, sometimes unusual.
The parable as told here has a real edge, and at first blush appears to be about a bunch of seriously disturbed people. A king orders the senior members of his court to the prince’s wedding banquet. This provokes serious insubordination by some, who simply blow the invitation off, and outright rebellion by others, who proceed to kill the king’s messengers. At this the king flies into a rage and sends in the troops to wipe out not only the rebelling nobles but their city as well. He then orders his staff to scramble to find someone—anyone— to serve as party-stuffers. Once the random passersby are seated at the party, the king notices that one of them isn’t wearing just the right attire for an event of such dignity. He again goes a little crazy, and orders his people to tie the poor man up “hand and foot” and throw him outside into the darkness, where there is nothing but “weeping and wailing, and gnashing of teeth.”
Matthew ends with a moral to the story: “Many are called, but few are chosen” that is, “the invitation may have gone out broadly, but only those who accept the invitation and come in proper clothes can stay for the whole party.”
Now over the ages there has been no shortage of capricious, erratic leaders who behave in ways that encourage rebellion, murder whole villages, abuse their staffs, and change their minds about guest lists and appropriate evening dress at the last minute. But Matthew is not trying to say that God is like one of these sadly familiar characters. His description of the original invitees’ bad RSVPs, both insubordinate and rebellious, and the bit about the poor man in the wrong clothes underscores that the story is about how the guests behave, not the king. It is about how we respond to God’s invitation.
The Gospel of Luke, written about the same time as Matthew, tells an earlier form of the parable, one that is also preserved in the Apocryphal Gospel of Thomas.
Here is how the original parable probably went:
A man gave a great dinner to which he invited many guests. When all was ready, he sent his servant to summon the guests. But one by one, they all began to give excuses for not coming. The servant reported this to his master, who in a rage commanded his servant, ‘Go out quickly into the streets and alleys of the town and bring in here anyone you find. I want my home to be filled for the banquet.’
A man gave a great dinner to which he invited many guests. When all was ready, he sent his servant to summon the guests. But one by one, they all began to give excuses for not coming. The servant reported this to his master, who in a rage commanded his servant, ‘Go out quickly into the streets and alleys of the town and bring in here anyone you find. I want my home to be filled for the banquet.’
When Jesus originally told the story, everyone knew that one of the great images of the Hebrew scripture for God’s saving act at the end of time was that of a great banquet. Even though there were plenty of passages that said, like today’s Old Testament reading, that this banquet would be for people of all nations (Isaiah 25:7), many of the religious teachers around Jesus taught that this would be an exclusive event limited to God’s people only.
Jesus replies to such a stingy image of God with parables. He points to the weather and says that God gives his rain and sunshine to both good and bad people alike (Matt. 5:45). He says this tells us about God’s love for all and should be a model for us in how we treat others. Jesus points to families and notes that when children ask for bread to eat, parents do not give them stones, or when they ask for an egg to eat, do not give them a scorpion. “If even average parents try to give their children good things, how much more generous will God be?” (Matt. 7:9-10; Luke 11:11-13)
Jesus’ actions matched his words. He regularly ate and drank with people that his religion told him would make him unclean. He had dinner parties with drunkards and prostitutes, much to the horror of Jesus’ “righteous” opponents. “It is the sick who need a doctor,” he would say, “not healthy people.” (Matt. 9:12)
But not everyone wanted a God as generous as the one Jesus described. They would quote scriptures that “proved” God was picky and exclusive. Jesus would reply by quoting other scriptures, where God looked more loving. He reserved his deepest anger for people he accused of “refusing to enter God’s door, and also barring the way to others” (Matt 23:13). He told other parables to explain why it was that despite God’s overwhelming goodness and generosity, some people were right with God and others were not.
Jesus’ actions matched his words. He regularly ate and drank with people that his religion told him would make him unclean. He had dinner parties with drunkards and prostitutes, much to the horror of Jesus’ “righteous” opponents. “It is the sick who need a doctor,” he would say, “not healthy people.” (Matt. 9:12)
But not everyone wanted a God as generous as the one Jesus described. They would quote scriptures that “proved” God was picky and exclusive. Jesus would reply by quoting other scriptures, where God looked more loving. He reserved his deepest anger for people he accused of “refusing to enter God’s door, and also barring the way to others” (Matt 23:13). He told other parables to explain why it was that despite God’s overwhelming goodness and generosity, some people were right with God and others were not.
One is the story of The Pharisee and the Tax Collector: a “religious” man goes to the Temple and prays, “Thank God I’m not like the sinners around me.” Beside him stands a traitor—a collaborator with the occupying Romans, a man who profits from the sufferings of God’s people. The traitor stands far off due to his shame. He won’t even lift up his eyes to God because he fears that God might give him what he deserves. “Have mercy on me, a sinner,” he prays. And Jesus says that the traitor went away right with God while the so-called religious man went away as stone-cold-hearted as he came (Luke 18:10-14).
It is in this context that Jesus tells the parable of the Great Banquet. His point is that God’s banquet is open to all, not just those originally invited. Some people, thinking they’re too important, may actually turn aside God’s love. Jesus, as a Palestinian Jew, loved and respected the Law that set his people off as God’s chosen ones. But he knew that the Law was not enough. Human beings could take even something as holy and pure as God’s Law and twist it into something ugly and oppressive. That is why he is so insistent, in his stories and deeds, on what St. Paul later calls grace and how we must be aware of our need for it.
It is in this context that Jesus tells the parable of the Great Banquet. His point is that God’s banquet is open to all, not just those originally invited. Some people, thinking they’re too important, may actually turn aside God’s love. Jesus, as a Palestinian Jew, loved and respected the Law that set his people off as God’s chosen ones. But he knew that the Law was not enough. Human beings could take even something as holy and pure as God’s Law and twist it into something ugly and oppressive. That is why he is so insistent, in his stories and deeds, on what St. Paul later calls grace and how we must be aware of our need for it.
The writer of the Gospel of Matthew is a good Jewish Christian who follows Jesus in all of this. But he is also lives in a world where the Church has already been opened up to gentiles, and trying to understand how God could have let Jerusalem and the Temple be destroyed by the Romans in A.D. 70. Matthew tends to blame this national catastrophe on the rejection of Jesus by the religious leaders—that is probably why he adds the nobles’ murder of the king’s servants and the destruction of their village. Matthew is also afraid that some Gentile Christians have taken liberties with very basic things that should not be taken advantage of. His detail about the proper wedding attire underscores that regardless how broad the Church has grown, there are still be standards for the gentile late-comers to God’s banquet.
There is nothing so holy or good that we human beings, left to our own resources, cannot manage to mess up. In his day, Jesus stressed that we can twist God’s Law into something ugly and oppressive. Matthew, in his, said we also can misuse God’s grace, and twist it into an excuse for cheap self-will. You know what I’m talking about. How many of us haven’t wondered at some point whether we might go ahead and do something we know in our heart is deeply wrong thinking “it’s O.K., I’ll repent later. God will accept me back.” Phillip Yancey, in his book, What’s So Amazing about Grace?, calls this twisting of grace into an excuse for sinning as “the loophole of grace.”
Just before and during World War II, Dietrich Bonhoeffer in his book The Cost of Discipleship used the term “cheap grace” to describe using God’s grace as an excuse for spiritual laziness or mediocrity in following Christ. He argued that we should dutifully and joyously follow Jesus out of gratitude for his grace. Such gratitude for expensive, precious grace on Jesus part requires a lifelong commitment to the way of the cross: self-sacrifice and service. Bonhoeffer lived here what he preached. Unrelenting in his witness against the Nazi regime, he was ultimately executed brutally by the Gestapo.
It is precisely “cheap grace” and the “loophole of grace” that St. Matthew condemns in his image of the man caught without proper wedding clothing. This celebration can have no party-poopers, no half-hearted acceptance of free tickets, no cheapening of the event by haughtiness of the original invitees or inattention by latecomers.
To summarize: in order to accept the invitation, we have to be open to receive it. St. Augustine says, ‘God gives where He finds open hands.’ You can't receive the gift if your hands are already full, or are clenched tight.
In yet another parable, Jesus compares God’s kingdom to a narrow path and a tight gate, which at any given time only a few can manage to squeeze through (Matt 7:13-14). This is because in order to get through such a tight fit, people have to be willing to abandon all the baggage they are carrying, whether riches, resentments, self-will, sins, or even what appears to be good things if they are getting in the way. This is a far cry from the loophole of grace, from “cheap grace.”
Likewise, C.S. Lewis said that asking God to forgive our sins without also sincerely wanting to amend our lives is like asking God to change us without changing us. Cheap grace, the loophole of grace—these simply misunderstand what is at issue in grace, and what is at issue in sin.
What does accepting grace, freely offered, look like in practical terms?
It looks like me admitting that I am helpless and hopeless. It sounds like the sincere phrase “I am sorry and I humbly repent.” It feels like a heartfelt cry, “I throw myself totally on the merits of a merciful Jesus.” It sounds like Martin Luther's cry, "I am yours Lord, save me."
None of these are payments in a transaction, or actions that merit God’s favor. None of them provide excuses to cheapen the price with which we were bought. They are simply acceptance of grace offered. In the long run, a life lived in that grace starts bearing what St. Paul called the fruits of the Spirit: we begin to follow Jesus in self-sacrifice and grace toward others.
What does accepting grace, freely offered, look like in practical terms?
It looks like me admitting that I am helpless and hopeless. It sounds like the sincere phrase “I am sorry and I humbly repent.” It feels like a heartfelt cry, “I throw myself totally on the merits of a merciful Jesus.” It sounds like Martin Luther's cry, "I am yours Lord, save me."
None of these are payments in a transaction, or actions that merit God’s favor. None of them provide excuses to cheapen the price with which we were bought. They are simply acceptance of grace offered. In the long run, a life lived in that grace starts bearing what St. Paul called the fruits of the Spirit: we begin to follow Jesus in self-sacrifice and grace toward others.
I myself have known God’s grace. At a particular time in my life, all was hopeless and helpless, through my own “thoughtlessness, weakness, through my own deliberate fault.” Marriage was unraveling, health was fading; career was careening. I found that I had to surrender to God, and accept my own powerlessness. Then gradually, steadily, God worked wonderful changes. I am still far from what God wants. But I live each day in gratitude that I am not what I was.
I suspect that many of you have had similar experiences. If so, continue in faith and gratitude, and share the invitation to the party through your actions and words.
If you have not had such an experience, then please listen to this call to God’s banquet, you random passerby. The tickets are free. But they are not cheap. And neither is the celebration. The banquet is priceless, the bread the finest, and the wine, a vintage that makes our hearts gladder than any other.
Come to the banquet, and let’s try to wear the right clothes.
In the name of Christ, Amen.
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