Dueling Banquets
It was the second time I’ve preached from Matthew 22:1-14. This may be the most difficult parable in the gospel narratives. Here are a few paragraphs from my words.
I asked a mentor how he served one congregation for 30-plus years, through all the social change, pastoral care, and preaching. I said, “You must have upset some people from time to time from the pulpit.” He grinned and said, “You know, sometimes people were unhappy with what they heard. I often reminded them that I was preaching to myself and they were overhearing my internal conversation.”
We live in a time when being offensive or provocative is a career. Maybe it’s always been that way and social media has made it easier. Polarization is profitable in this rage based attention economy. Followers of Jesus are called to be in this world, not of it.
We’ve got these dueling banquet stories about the world we live in, our communities of religious practice, what God is like, and what the kindom of God is like. Today’s text is part of a section in Matthew that asks questions about authority, community, and the obligations of both.
I often look into the parables as if they are a mirror. What are these teaching stories trying to show me about my discipleship and my practice of Christianity? How does the church need to evolve? Must it change and to what end? It is frightening, liberating, and humbling to consider how these stories enable or disarm my excuses. For me, this parable upends the righteousness of thinking Christians are the only beloved of God. It startles my sense of privilege if we allow it.
As I observe and interact with our culture and the world, I’ve come to believe that followers of Jesus need to do more than turn the crank of Christian tradition. Plenty of people can do that.
If the kindom of God that the life and teachings of Jesus of Nazareth embodied, that banquet idea of a heaven, a kindom is ever to be an alternative to this current Age of Empires, it will happen because the many or the few will decide to live without some of their excuses. And that starts with me. It starts with you and our siblings in faith, and our cousins in faith, recognizing that followers of Jesus do Jesus-like things. (That’s not always aligned with Christian tradition.) It begins at a table where you don’t need a reservation, you just pull up a chair. There is plenty to share to chase away any gloom.
When we do, we will have listened to this parable and have better tools and vision to discern between the dueling banquets vying for our attention and remember that:
Lord whose mercies never cease;
The Lord’s mercies are new every morning;
And the Lord’s faithfulness extends beyond our ability to see it in a mirror dimly and describe it, understand it, and yet be embraced by that faithfulness.