Killing the Buddha, Walking in the Dark (Mid-week Message)

Fr. Tony’s Mid-week Message

October 29, 2014

Killing the Buddha, Walking in the Dark  

“If you run into the Buddha, kill him!”

--9^th century Zen Master Linji

This koan, or puzzle statement intended to create doubt and force a new way of seeing things, is a classic of Zen Buddhism.  The idea at its simplest is this:  if you think you have identified the right way to enlightenment, you by that very fact show that you have gone off track.  At a more reflective level, the idea is that enlightenment, the Buddha nature, is within you.  It is revealed by discovering unity. If you still see it as something other than you, if your mind is still caught in the deception of duality, you are wrong. 

A Christian could hardly be expected to say, “If you see Christ, crucify him!”  But we do recite in the Ten Commandments “Do not make for yourself any graven image standing for God.”    The idea is the same as the Zen saying:  we deceive ourselves when we mistake any current understanding we have of God with God proper.  In the degree that we objectify God or Jesus, we are not at unity and not in the presence. 

Having a basic humility in limits in our faith, our doctrine, and our spiritual practices is key to healthy spiritual growth.  Though this may not entail regular “tearing down the idols,” “killing the Buddha,” and starting all over again, it definitely must involve recognizing the constraints of our current place, but continuing practice all the same, in an unhurried, steady way. 

A friend of mine from the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship here in Ashland shared with me a poem that phrases this in another way, using a main image of their tradition, the lighted candle in a chalice or bowl for contemplative meditation. 

With or Without Candlelight

--John Marsh (from Victoria Safford, ed., With or Without Candlelight:  A Meditation Anthology [Skinner House Books: 2009])

If you are going to meditate by candlelight,

do not hurry to light the candle. 

The glow may concentrate your energies, but it will cost you

the contours of the room. 

If you walk the night forest by flashlight,

the electric beam may reveal details on your path,

but you will lose everything

outside your concentrated ray.

All that your light does not expose will become alien.

The sounds of animals will frighten you.

Shut off the beam, and you will travel the night forest

as one who belongs. 

Let us praise things dark and beautiful: 

The quiet of closed eyelids

The childhood of chocolate

The respectability of newsprint

The suddenness of a bat’s wing

The invitation of brewing coffee

The persistence of tar

The gentleness of nutmeg

The temptation of a cave. 

If you are going to meditate by candlelight,

Do not hurry to light the candle. 

Grace and Peace,  Fr. Tony+

Holiness to the Lord (Proper 25A)

 

Holiness to the Lord

Proper 25A

Parish Church of Trinity Ashland

8:00 AM Said, 1:00 AM Sung Mass 26 October 2014

Deuteronomy 34:1-12; Psalm 90:1-6, 13-17; 1 Thessalonians 2:1-8; Matthew 22:34-46

Leviticus 19:1-2, 15-18; Psalm 1;1 Thessalonians 2:1-8; Matthew 22:34-46

 God, take away our hearts of stone and give us hearts of flesh.  Amen 

“You shall be holy, for I, Yahweh your God am holy.”  What can that possibly mean?  Somehow “Be religious, for I God am religious” doesn’t quite make it.  Nor does “Be churchy for I am churchy,” or even “be uptight, for I am uptight.”  What does holiness mean?  How is God holy, and how can we be holy? 

The burning ones around the throne of Yahweh in Isaiah 6 chant “Kadosh, Kadosh, Kadosh” (Holy, holy, holy).   What do they mean?  The Hebrew word basically means separate or distinct from other things.  Set aside, special, to the point of causing us to stand before it in awe, trembling.

God’s holiness, or difference from everything else, is often described in visual terms in the Hebrew scriptures, where the word Kavod, or meaning both brightness and heaviness, is used.  It is a visual clue of the awesome difference:  a glorious cloud of light, so palpable that it is described as a weight. 

The link between holiness and glory is so tight that the two are used as synonyms in poetic pairing structure in the Hebrew verse.  Note:  “Ascribe to the Lord the glory or honor due his name; worship the Lord in the splendor of his holiness. (Psalm 29:2)

Strangely, the difference and distinctness of God from all creation lies behind all creation, beneath everything other than God.  Remember Paul on the Areopagus:  “In [God], we live and move, and have our being…” 

 

So taking a cue from those burning ones in Isaiah, we to this day sing in our weekly meal of common things made holy, bread and wine become somehow Christ’s Body and Blood, “Holy, holy, holy, … heaven and earth are FULL of your glory.” 

Common things made holy, set aside for God and special use:  this is the sense that the Leviticus Holiness Code declares, “You shall be Holy for I am Holy.”  If we belong to God, we are indeed dedicated and set aside, set apart, different from those about us.  Though they too belong to God, we are different because we recognize this.  Holiness is awareness of God’s immanent presence and love. 

This is why the Tractate to the Hebrews (12:14) declares, “Make every effort to live in peace with everyone and to be holy; without holiness no one will see the Lord.”

It is also why the prophet Zechariah describes the day of salvation as one when common things will all serve God’s purpose.  He uses the inscription on the High Priest’s Breastplate “Holiness to the Lord” to express this (14:20-21):  “In that day shall there be inscribed upon the bells of the horses, Holiness to The Lord; and even pots … shall all be like the sacred bowls before the altar.  Yes, every pot in … Judah shall be “holiness to the Lord…”

But what does this mean?  Again, at heart it is simply recognizing the presence of God where it always was, but where we didn’t see it before. 

Some of you have asked me why we sometimes use holy water to bless objects and not just people.  Or why we reverence the blessed sacrament after consecration.  In the eyes of some, this is crass superstition or worse, magic.   Rather, these things are sacramental:  inward grace seen and made real by outward signs.   The act of blessing itself is not the issue:  it is the holiness or virtue recognized and made real by the act.   In Eastern Orthodoxy, the great blessing of the Waters on the Feast of Theophany (what we call Epiphany) is not to take bad water and make it good.  It is to act out our recognition that God has already blessed all water in creating it, and all rivers by being baptized in Jordan.   We shouldn’t believe in magic when this means superstition and silliness.  But the magic in a child’s wonder and the awe of seeing God’s beauty—this is magic we should never lose or belittle.  

In the rabbinical commentaries on “Be holy for I am holy,” there is often the idea that simple, common, everyday acts become holy if we do them with right intention.  Paying the plumber is an act of holiness when done consciously with the desire to manage the plumbing problem and honor the artisan with just compensation for expertise and labor.   Being holy means living in the presence of God even when—especially when—we are doing normal, everyday things, even when we are doing embarrassing and personal things, perhaps even when we are straying from God’s will.    In a very real way, I think that “being holy” is the way ancient Hebrews expressed an idea phrase in a different way by Buddhists: “being present” and “mindful.” 

But Scripture also teaches you cannot be holy while disobeying God.  And so sometimes, like in the Holiness Code itself, it gives lengthy lists of what to do and what to not do.  Holiness cannot be reduced to actions, however. 

The heart of the matter is love.  Holiness also entails what Buddhists call compassion.  Note how in the Leviticus passage the concern with fairness and equitable treatment of others, as hallmarks of holiness, is summed up in “love your neighbor.”    

That is the point of today’s Gospel.

The Pharisees ask Jesus a question of halakhah, or legal interpretation.  “Of all the 613 commandments in the Torah, (365 "Thou shalt not"s and 248 "Thou shalt"s), which is the most important?  What is the heart of the Law?   Of all the competing and sometimes contradictory rules, which ones take priority and interpret the others?”

Jesus starts his answer by something not all that unusual: the Shema‘, the credo of Judaism recited every morning and evening: “ Hear, O Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord alone. And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your might.”   Most rabbis had also pointed to this passage from Deuteronomy as the heart of the Law. 

But then Jesus adds, “and a second commandment is just like this first one,” citing an obscure portion of the Leviticus Holiness Code, the very one we read today: “‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’  On these two commandments depend the entire body of scripture.” 

This juxtaposition is something completely new, first made by Jesus. 

He puts these two commandments using the verb “love” on par with each other.  In so doing he bridges a great divide in the Hebrew tradition:  the contrast between holiness and purity on the one side and social justice and fairness on the other, between Priests and prophets, or ritual and ethics.

Why love?   Why not fear, or obedience, or respect?  Why not honor, or duty?    Jesus is saying the openness and vulnerability of our hearts is where we find the ability to find the right path to faithfulness to a holy God and taking care of one’s fellow human beings.   This is what it means when he says the link between the two is love. 

Love is hard to explain or define.  Remember Pooh and Piglet?  “How do you spell love?” “You don’t spell it, you feel it.”   And it’s not just a feeling, but a feeling that finds expression in a disposition of the will, in a lifetime of acts.

Maybe it’s the loss of self-regard we experience in love.   Most of our other emotions and habits can be pursued while manipulating and being manipulated by others.  But if love starts doing that, we no longer consider it love.   

Think about it:  your best loves—whether a partner, or friend, parent, or child—what is their essence?  Loss of concern about yourself and focus on the beloved.  That’s one of the reasons that finding right ways to set boundaries in love relationships is so tricky, and so necessary.  

The two are on par with each other.  Holiness must be bound by justice.  And Justice must be driven by holiness. 

In other words, mindfulness and being present must find expression in compassion.  And our concern for decency and fairness must never descend into mere self or group interest.  Mindfulness and detachment is the way to do this.    None of this is possible without love. 

This week, I invite us all in our meditations and prayers to look at our relationships for signs of love, for hints of the great love that lies behind all things.  And look for the various ways the love of God is made manifest in our love and the love of those about us.  I hope that such reflection may help us expand the scope of love in our lives and the mindfulness we have each moment of God's loving presence. 

In the name of Christ, Amen. 

Diversity in Spirit (Mid-week)

Fr. Tony’s Mid-week Message

October 23, 2014

Diversity in Spirit

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net which was thrown into the sea and gathered fish of every kind.” Matthew 13:47

Last Sunday’s Forum featured Shirley Woodring leading a Mutual Invitation Bible Study on several passages from the New Testament on the variety of gifts God gives us.  As I heard different parishioners share their stories and feelings about the variety of gifts we receive, I was struck by the contrast between such an expansive view of God’s love of diversity and the “one size fits all” wooden ideology of conformity commonly ascribed to Christians.

Most traditional Christian treatments of spiritual life and development talk about four processes of God at work in us that happen simultaneously over years:  awakening, purgation, illumination, and union.    Awakening is the stirrings of our desire for God and realizing the fact that God is already present in us and loves us.  Purgation involves a variety of disciplines and habits that help us identify and lose those things in our lives that impede God’s presence and overshadow our true self.  Illumination is the gradual process of how such darkness flees and is replaced by the light behind it alone.  And union is where we live in contemplation and appreciation of God’s beauty, and channel God’s love to others. 

These processes at work in each of us produce true individuals, each different from the other.  God does not call us to be robot victim souls, all marching to the same drum, all with the same blank zombie stare.  God calls us to be authentically ourselves, each and every one. 

God in creating each of us has different things in mind, and the way I must walk by definition is different from the one you must follow.  This is why Paul speaks of a diversity of gifts, but one spirit.  This is why Jesus uses the image of a dragnet, with its diversity of catch, to describe God’s Reign. 

Grace and Peace,  Fr. Tony+

Caesar's Coin (Proper 24A)

 

Caesar’s Coin

18 October 2014

Proper 24A

8 am Said, 10:00 am Sung Mass

Parish Church of Trinity, Ashland (Oregon)

Isaiah 45:1-7; Psalm 96:1-9; 1 Thessalonians 1:1-10; Matthew 22:15-22

God, take away our hearts of stone and give us hearts of flesh. Amen.

We live in a polarized, partisan world.   Money is a big part of it.   Partisans from both sides of the spectrum argue, mainly about money.  “Occupy Wall Street” protesters bemoan the gap between rich and poor.  On the other side, the “Tea Party” protesters bewail high taxes and big government. Both claim the moral high ground.   “Justice” cries one side; “liberty” shouts the other. 

In today’s Gospel, people ask Jesus to join a faction and endorse a tax revolt.    

“Is it right to pay taxes to Rome?” they innocently ask.  

A controversial subject: the Roman tax had led to riots and revolts in the past that had ended with the crucifixion of thousands.  In 70 C.E., a general insurrection about it would lead to the destruction of the Jewish homeland. 

People saw the tax as political enslavement, and some, as sin, because it was paid in currency stamped images of men claiming Godhood.

The local elites had entered into an uncomfortable partnership with Romans, each party for its own purposes.  The Pharisees argued that taxes needed to be paid to keep peace and save lives.  The Herodians were in bed with the Romans, staffing the bureaucracy, providing propaganda, and pocketing some of the receipts.    

A Temple shekel

They ask this at a sensitive time and place: Passover Week, in the outer courtyard of the Temple (Matt 21:23). The day before Jesus had caused a huge disturbance there by driving out those who exchanged the idolatrous legal tender for kosher currency made for use in the Temple to buy sacrifices and make offerings (Matt 21:12). The act was clearly a rejection of the cozy system of power that used the Temple as a means of controlling people.   Was it also a call to reject the power of Rome altogether, including the hated taxes?  They would accuse Jesus of this later in the week when he was tried for his life (Luke 23:1-4).

“Is it permitted to pay taxes to the Emperor?”  

If Jesus says “yes,” he marks himself as an Imperial tool, a quisling, a disloyal Jew, fair game for the rage of the mob.  If he answers “no,” he commits treason and marks himself for Roman execution.

Jesus replies, “In what coin is the tax paid?  Can you show me one?” 

 A denarius 

They produce a denarius, the coin for a day’s wage.  It bears an image of the emperor with the inscription, “Caesar Augustus Tiberius, son of the God Augustus.”  On its back is a picture of Tiberius’ mother Livia, wife of Augustus, posed as the Goddess Peace. 

Jesus innocently asks, “Whose image is that?  And whose inscription?” 

Jesus has thus reversed the trap set for him.

They are in the Temple, even if only an outer courtyard.  By a strict reading of the law, such a coin shouldn’t even be here. 

Their sheepish reply shows they know they have been had, “It bears the Emperor’s image and his inscription.” 

Jesus replies, “Well then, if this coin belongs to Caesar, give it back to him!”  And then he adds, slyly, “And what belongs to God, give back to God.” 

Christians over the centuries have thought this was some kind of comment on the scope of our obligations to earthly rulers: two separate realms, God’s and Man’s, the Church versus the State.   But this is not what Jesus means.

Tertullian, writing before the Emperor Constantine put the Church firmly under the control of the state by legalizing and establishing it, says this: “What has God’s image? Why, human beings, of course, since ‘God created human beings in his own image.’”   It is not a question of two spheres, but one alone: God’s.  We—all that we are, all that we will become, and that we think is ours—belong to God.  We are the coin that bears God’s image that we must give back to God.  Psalm 24:1 says, “The earth is the Lord's, and all that it in it; the world, and all those who live there.”   Everything belongs to God.  We owe God everything.     

So why even give that coin back to Caesar?  For Jesus, money is not the point.   Paying or opposing the tax both are partisan acts.  Both are  corrupted by not putting God first. “Go ahead and give Tiberius that coin, since it plainly belongs to him. But there are bigger fish to fry—like how we pay back to God what is his!”  Don’t get worked up over taxes, whether morally outraged at a political insult (a loss of “liberty”) or ritual impurity (committing “idolatry.”)   You have that coin in your pocket.  You are already up to your neck in sewage, so don’t start going all squeamish about a little splatter on your face.

For Jesus, we are living in occupied territory: not Romans occupying Palestine, but the Powers and Dominions, the evil systems that reign here, occupying and distorting God's good creation.  He says, “Do what you need to do to get by under such an occupation.”  That’s why he tells parables about corrupt managers, unjust judges, and labor disputes:  have street smarts, but don't ever think that this is the main event.  “Be as wise as snakes, but harmless as doves.”

Money stands in for so many things for us.  It objectifies value and worth, work, and honor.  “How much is that person worth?” we ask, oblivious to how we have reduced the person to mere possession of pieces of the economic pie.   “I have done right by her,” says the man about to be divorced for emotional abandonment, thinking only of money.  “Oh, he doesn’t work, then?” we ask about a stay at home father, just because his work isn’t measured in currency units.  The proverb says it all, “Money is Power.” 

Jesus will have none of this.  

Jesus says, “No one can serve two masters.  Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and Money.” (Matt 6:23-25).  

It is not just coins with Caesar’s image that are idolatrous.  It is any money when it takes first place in our values and judgments.    This is why financial stewardship is important for our spiritual growth.  If we let love of money or fear of insecurity outweigh our thankfulness for God’s abundance, we are limiting God’s grace for us.  If we let them destroy our consecration to God, our willingness to give up the control we have of resources to others whom we trust to work in God’s stead, we damage ourselves.  

Money is not the only idol.  Power is too: party, sect, identity, clan, or nation when they become more important than mercy, justice, and love. 

The Pharisees and Herodians want Jesus to spring for a partisan connection.  He will have none of this either.   What matters for Jesus is an open-hearted trust and devotion to God, and the acts of mercy and social justice that result from this.  All else is secondary. 

So paying Caesar’s coin back to him also means admitting and wisely managing our loyalties and partisan identities.  Again, “be smart as snakes, but harmless as doves.”   Don’t deny your identities or have any illusions about your group loyalties, but don’t let them control you, or run out more important things. 

Faction and sect hurt us not just in larger society.   In Church, we love to identify ourselves as part of this or that group, tradition, denomination, theological movement, worship style, or way of reading scripture.  But when Jesus says, “give unto God what is God’s,” he is saying to let go of our petty preferences and tastes, of any self-absorbed obsession about our own identity and party or sect.   

Paul says, “In Christ, there is no Greek or Jew, slave or free, male or female”  (Gal. 3:28).   Listen:  In Christ, there is no Protestant or Catholic, Evangelical or High-Church, progressive or conservative.  Paul says, “Is Christ divided?  Were you baptized into Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or any other party or sect? No”  (1 Cor. 1:12-14).   Were we baptized into this or that rector, this or that teacher, or spiritual director?  No.  There is one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all.    If we ever let any affiliation or identity that we have alienate us from this basic truth, we have lost our way.

The world we live in is occupied territory.  All of us live under the Dominions, and as such, we are all in Caesar’s game, and have to pay in Caesar's coin.  In the degree that this is so, we play by Caesar's rules.  But as Jesus said after his arrest, "those who live by the sword die by it."  There is a much more important game afoot.  There are much, much more important issues that we should focus on.  

I pray that during this week, in meditation, reflection, and prayer, we all take note of the idols in our lives and then move to put them in their place.  Let us identify and name the Powers.  If you are in the thrall of an idol, stand up, get off your knees.  

Give back to Caesar what he owns.  But give to God what is God’s. 
 
In the name of Christ, Amen.

Beloved Sister Death (Midweek)

Beloved Sister Death

Fr. Tony’s Mid-week Message

October 15, 2014

We started the month with the Feast of St. Francis, and the Blessing of the Animals.  St. Francis’ Day brings to mind for most of us the hymn “All creatures of our God and King.”  It is based on the great Tuscan language poem praising God for all God’s creatures written by Francis in the last year of his life. 

I have had the great blessing in the last two weeks of being able to give last rites to two parishioners, and of simply being with their families and friends.  Death of a loved one is hard, not least because it reminds us that each and every one of us will one day die.    The month will end with the fall Triduum of All Hallows’ Eve, All Saints’ Day, and All Souls, which each in their own way talk about death. 

Just before his death, St. Francis added a final verse to his great hymn of praise.  In it, he sees death not as an enemy to be feared and overcome, or an aberration ruining God’s creation, but rather as a fellow creature of God, made by God for his own mysterious purposes: 

“Praised be You, my Lord, through our Sister, Bodily Death,

From whom no one living can escape.

Woe to those who die in mortal sin!

But blessed are those whom death will find in Your most holy will,

For the second death shall do them no harm.

Praise and bless my Lord and give him thanks,

And serve Him with great humility.” 

In the metrical translation we usually sing as “All Creatures of our God and King,” the verse reads thus:

And even you, most gentle death,

Waiting to hush our final breath

O praise Him, Alleluia!

You lead back home the child of God,

For Christ our Lord that way has trod,

O Praise Him! Alleluia!

The Prayer Book’s rites for what we normally call a funeral clearly identify it as a celebration of the resurrection, based in our faith in the Risen Lord.  While death is painful, and a time of sorrow and grief at separation for us the living, it is part and parcel of the life cycle God made when he created us.  Though we must not seek it out, or minimize its mystery and the fear it inspires, in a very real way, Death is our beloved brother or sister creature. 

Grace and Peace,

Fr. Tony+

RSVP, Appropriate Dress Required (Proper 23A)

 

RSVP, Appropriate Dress Required

12 October 2014

Proper 23A

Parish of Trinity, Ashland (Oregon)

8:00 am said; 10 am sung Mass

Isaiah 25:1-9 Psalm 23 Philippians 4:1-9 Matthew 22:1-14

God, give us hearts to feel and love. 

Take away our hearts of stone and give us hearts of flesh. Amen. 

In my second Foreign Service assignment, I had an experience that forever changed the way I read invitations.  I always knew that the RSVP bit was to let the hosts know how many guests to expect.  I knew that the “Dress: formal” meant black tie and evening wear, and “informal” meant business clothes.  But when I received an invitation marked "casual" from the U.S. Ambassador to China to attend an outdoor reception at his home with country-western music, I thought this meant comfortable.  This was in the late summer, when Beijing is hot and humid.  I knew that Embassy officers were wearing western togs in keeping with the party theme.   Political section officers would surely be in business suits, since they always wore business suits.   This event was “social” in the sense of “social obligation.” We would be "on the clock."  But it was going to be stifling, and the invitation said "casual."  So I decided to wear a nice linen suit, made for the tropics, with knee-length pants.  The day after the event, the Minister Counselor for Public Affairs called me into his office and proceeded to scold my lack of judgment for showing up at an Ambassadorial event in “shorts.”  “But the invitation said ‘casual,’ I replied, “They taught us in A-100 that overdressing was as bad as under-dressing.”  This simply infuriated my boss, who, after all, was trying to further embarrassment caused by young Mr. Hutchinson’s bad judgment.  He continued, “The invitation said casual.  It did not say beachwear!”  

I got the message—never wear shorts at an event the Ambassador was hosting, no matter what.   The polite insincerity of saying “casual” was to put guests at ease, not to relieve Embassy staff from wearing proper working clothes to what was a work event.

Today’s Gospel reading is all about RSVPs and proper dress for such a command “social” event.

The story seems to be about seriously disturbed people. A king orders the members of his court to the prince’s wedding banquet.   Some reply by blowing the invitation off; others rebel, killing the king’s messengers.  Insubordination.  Treason. The king wipes them and theirs out. He orders staff to scramble to find someone—anyone— to serve as party-stuffers.  But once all are seated at the party, the king notices that one of them isn’t wearing just the right attire. He orders his people to tie the poor man up and throw him out to darkness where there is “weeping and wailing, and gnashing of teeth.”

Over the ages there has been no shortage of capricious, erratic leaders who murder whole villages at the slightest hint of rebellion, petty tyrants who abuse staff and capriciously change their minds about guest lists and appropriate dress. But Matthew here is not saying that God is like any of these.   This story in Matthew is about how invitees behave, not the king.

Once again, Matthew takes a parable from Jesus and adds all sorts of details to turn it into an allegory, changing its meaning in the process.  Like last week,  the earlier form of the parable is preserved in the Gospel of Luke and the non-canonical Gospel of Thomas.

It originally ran this way:

A king 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 gave excuses for not coming. Hearing this, the king in a rage commanded his servant, ‘Go out quickly into the streets and alleys and bring in anyone you find. I want my great hall to be filled for the banquet.’

Most of Jesus’ audience knew that a great banquet was a big scriptural image for God’s future saving act.  Even though many passages said, like today’s Isaiah reading, that this banquet would be for all nations (Isaiah 25:7), many teachers said that it 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 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)

And Jesus’ actions matched his words. He regularly ate and drank with people declared contagiously unclean by his religion.   He welcomed them.  

This is the context for today’s parable of the RSVPs.  He tells the story of the host forced by RSVP “regrets” to drag in people from off the street to say God’s banquet is open to all.   Those “regretting” the invitations are the people Jesus reserves his deepest anger for, people stingy with God’s grace, those he accused of “refusing to enter God’s door, and also barring the way to others” (Matt 23:13).

But later Christians like Matthew reflect on the parable and apply the narrative device of the regretted RSVPs to their own situation, where newly included Gentiles are rapidly overtaking what originally had been a Jews-only Church.   They wonder about the large number of Jews who decline to join them in following Jesus.    Such questions only intensified with the destruction of the Temple by the Romans in 70 C.E. in what looked at the time to be a death stroke to Judaism.   Matthew tries to make sense of the catastrophe by chalking it up to most Jewish congregations’ expulsion of Jewish Christians from the synagogues, and the Judean religious leaders’ rejection of Jesus himself.   So he adds the nobles’ murder of the king’s servants and the destruction of their village to the story.   Thus he tries to account for what appeared to him to be the end of Judaism.  Note:  this is not supercessionism, the wrong-headed idea that God rejected the Jews, and transferred his promises to them over to the Church instead.  The Gospel author himself is a Jewish Christian still concerned with maintaining his faith.  He is afraid that some Gentile Christians have taken liberties with the faith inherited from the Jewish Palestinian Church.   His detail about the proper wedding attire underscores that regardless how broad the Church has become, there are still standards for the gentile late-comers to God’s banquet.  

His concern is that once we receive grace, we might not take it seriously.  Sisters and brothers--we are the body of Christ.  We sometimes don't behave that way, because we lose the vision of what we are.  Matthew is here saying to take this grace of God  seriously.  

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 Johnny-come-latelys.

In order to accept God’s 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.” 

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 Martin Luther’s heartfelt cry, “I am yours Lord, save me.”  

I myself have known God’s grace.   All was hopeless and helpless, through my own “thoughtlessness, weakness, through my own deliberate fault.”   I found that I had to accept my own powerlessness and turn it all over to God. And keep doing that, each day.  Gradually, steadily, God worked wonderful changes. I am still far from what God wants. But I live each day in gratitude.

I know that many of you have had similar experiences. You have told me your stories.   We need to continue in faith and gratitude, and share the invitation to the party through our actions and words.

If you have not had such an experience, then please listen to this call to God’s banquet, you random passerby on the street.   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.