Sunday: 22nd Sunday after Pentecost A
Reading: Matthew 22:1-14
Preacher: S. James Steen

Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place. When I looked at the readings for today, I soon realized that my choices were to preach on God's threat to destroy the Hebrews for worshiping a golden calf, or I could preach on God's promise of eternal damnation to the guy who failed to dress properly for a wedding banquet. Neither of these choices was exactly enticing. But I decided to go with Matthew's take on the Parable of the Wedding Banquet because I have repeatedly heard people react with alarm after reading this story. Knowing that I needed help with the passage, I asked for the thoughts of others in two Bible Studies this past week.

At the staff meeting on Tuesday, it was my turn to lead the weekly spiritual exercise; and I decided to get the staff's take on this parable. The following night, when the Liturgy Committee met, we studied the same passage. The discussion began with one member describing the king who gave the banquet as a "party pooper," and another asking, what if the guest without the proper garment was too poor to dress appropriately. Wouldn't that add insult to injury regarding the kings' harsh response? Another member said it reminded her of a recent experience, when she remembered, while on a plane in route to a wedding, that she had forgotten to pack a dress for the occasion. A man who was present said, with force, that this is an outrageous passage; it has nothing to say to us as a Liturgy Committee; and it should be stricken from the Bible!

While I admit that the passage is both puzzling and troubling, I'm not prepared to go quite that far. If you want to read a much gentler version of the parable, I suggest you go to Luke, or you could consult the source called "Q," which contained the original story that inspired both Luke and Matthew. You could even read the Gospel According to Thomas, which didn't make it into the Bible. Matthew, alone, gives us an angry host, whom most readers equate with God.

But, as I've done on another recent occasion, I want to support Matthew, not because I think it is closest to Jesus original story, but rather because it challenges us by providing a God who acts in paradoxical ways. This king is angry, but also incredibly hospitable. After the invited guests didn't show up, he went back and urged them to come. This time they not only refused the invitation, they made light of the affair and killed the king's slaves. After reacting violently to this behavior, the king "said to his [surviving] 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."

Please notice how Matthew says that the first to be invited weren't worthy, so the king invites others who, presumably, are worthy. And the Gospel describes those who are worthy to participate in the banquet as both good and bad. So, for Matthew, worthiness doesn't appear to be about being pure or good; instead it's a matter of accepting the generous hospitality God offers us; it's about recognizing that an offer of unconditional hospitality - of unconditional love - could only be coming from God, because it's God who - in spite of what we know to be true about our own unworthiness - calls us worthy and invites us to the feast.

With regard to the guest who showed up without a garment, we may never understand all that was going on here; but it would appear that his sin was to show disrespect for the host who had so graciously sent his slaves out into the streets to invite absolutely everyone to come to the banquet. Some believe that the king even provided the garment which the guest rejected.

In the 14th Century, Julian of Norwich said that there is no anger in God; but that we attribute our own anger to the deity. This may describe what we find in Matthew. Yet, I find something extremely poignant in the author's anger. How many times have we heard that it's easier to be angry than to be hurt or to be sad? For Matthew, God had provided the ultimate banquet for God's people by sending Jesus to proclaim, in word and deed, just how unconditional was God's invitation to live in the Kingdom of God. The Author of Matthew was Jewish to the core of his being, and it must have hurt him deeply that his own people failed to accept what was for him the greatest of gifts. That is, I believe, at the heart of the way Matthew portrays God, as simultaneously loving and angry, merciful and judgmental.

We may rail at the harsh side of Matthew's God; but this paradoxical God defies our efforts to domesticate the divine, to make God in our image. When I say, "God is entirely loving, accepting, and inclusive, period," Matthew nags at me: "Is God really that simple? When we refuse to honor mercy and justice, the values of the kingdom, and thus grieve the soul of God deeply, doesn't God demand more of us?

On the other hand, if our God is the Divine Gatekeeper, who stands at the door to the banquet hall with a rule book in hand, welcoming and rejecting each would-be guest according to formulas of our invention, formulas with which we are certain God agrees, then isn't it time for us to return to the highways and byways, to invite all those bad folks, as well as the good?

As an Episcopalian I am proud of how Katherine Jefferts Schori, our Primate, has dealt with those who are leaving the Episcopal Church to affiliate with conservative Anglican groups. In a recent interview on NPR's "Fresh Air," while saying that she grieves at this breaking of communion, she also states clearly and without rancor that the body they are rejecting is big enough to contain us all. Further, she says that those who are leaving fail to appreciate the fundamental value that our tradition places on paradox. The point is not for all of us to have the same opinion; it is for everyone to remain at the banquet, all being made richer, if less comfortable, by loving those who are different from us.

I can only say, "Amen."