Blessed Assurance

“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. [Matthew 22:11-12]

Professor Emeritus Richard (“Rick”) Lischer told our preaching class many years ago that “with rare exception, when you read one of Jesus’ parables, if something within it doesn’t startle or offend you, you need to go back and read it again.” That is to say that Jesus’ parables aren’t sweet little stories containing gems of wisdom; they are most often glimpses into a wondrous kingdom in which most of our worldly standards are turned upside-down through the Incarnation, and by the life, death, and resurrection of our Lord. Dr. Lischer’s point is particularly applicable to The Parable of the Wedding Banquet [Matthew 22:1-14, the Gospel reading for the Nineteenth Sunday After Pentecost, RCL, Year A].

The parable detailed in Matthew is quite similar to that found in Luke 14:15-23, and in the “gnostic” Gospel of Thomas. Scholars suggest that this parable is one that Jesus likely told and retold, in slightly/starkly different versions, on several occasions, and in different contexts. For example, Luke’s version is told by Jesus during the middle portion of his ministry. Matthew’s version, on the other hand, takes place during the last week of Jesus’ life, when the chief priests, the elders of the people, and many of the Pharisees–all powers within the Jerusalem Temple–had aligned against him. Jesus knows the group is plotting to kill him. He knows that his days are numbered. He knows that while he has been accepted by many “common folk,” he represents too much of a threat to ever be accepted by the Temple leaders.

Matthew’s version of the parable starts out harmless enough. Speaking to the Temple leaders, Jesus tells them that the kingdom of heaven is like a king who prepared a wedding banquet for his son (many scholars see allusions to the “Marriage Supper of the Lamb” found in Revelation 19:6-9). He sends out hand-delivered invitations to the usual suspects–the important people in the kingdom–and their response is quite startling. They refuse to come.

This is the first sign that this parable isn’t some Aesop’s Fable. In a world where pecking order is everything, where it would be a great honor to be favored with an invitation to a royal party–a royal wedding, no less–the refusal of this king’s hospitality is a direct affront to him. The king is patient, however, and, after he has made lavish preparations for the wedding fete, he sends his servants back out to the same group of invitees. Again, no takers–some merely shun the invitation, others seize the king’s servants and kill them.

Now angry, the king sends an army to destroy the murderers. He also burns “their” city (which, of course, is his city as well, see Matthew 22:7). Since the wedding banquet has been shunned by the powers that be, the king directs his servants to go out into the streets to invite anyone and everyone–“the bad as well as the good”–and accordingly, the wedding hall was filled with guests (Matthew 22:10).

With the exception of the army and the destruction of the city, Matthew’s version of the parable is pretty much like that found in Luke, at least to this point. Again, if one can get over the violence, one actually has a rather inclusive little parable here. The hoity-toity crowd is shunned, those who have been perennially left out are now included. This sounds like “our kind” of parable, where the underdog is treated to special grace and the haughty are made to feel low. And indeed, in Luke’s version of the parable, told by Jesus in the middle portion of his ministry, the parable ends on this high note. But this isn’t Luke’s Gospel; this is Matthew.

Jesus says that there is more to the story. The king comes out to greet the throng who have assembled for the wedding feast. The hall is filled with the outcasts of the world. There’s music, food, dancing. I’ll show my age:

By the time we got to Woodstock

We were half a million strong

And everywhere was a song and a celebration ….

“Woodstock,” by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young

Yet something else strange happens: The king spies a man who isn’t wearing wedding clothes and he asks, “How did you get in here without wedding clothes, friend?” The man is “speechless.” [Matthew 22:12]. Then, according to Jesus, the king does the unthinkable, the horrible: he has the man bound and thrown outside, “into the darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” And if that’s not bad enough, our Lord’s quick explanation seems cruel and too straightforward, “For many are invited, but few are chosen” [22:14]. Is this the way our Lord actually talks? It certainly seems harsh when the man is guilty of nothing more than a fashion error.

Are we offended yet? I talked with a friend about this parable earlier in the week and he quipped, “Perhaps the point of this parable is to shock us out of our complacency, out of our ‘blessed assurance.'” I’m reminded of that old hymn, favorite of many, by Fanny Crosby, “Blessed Assurance.”

Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine

Oh, what a foretaste of glory divine ….

What could my friend have meant? Well, if I’m filled with “blessed assurance,” and indeed, if “Jesus is mine,” then I don’t need to be bothered with a party where the people sitting at my table are outcasts. I don’t need to associate with those who eat with their fingers, with those who talk with their mouths full, with those whom I say heading for the wrong side of town last week. If “Jesus is mine,” I needn’t worry about celebrating with Yahweh; I’m already blessed. If “Jesus is mine,” I can react the way the first group of invitees reacted; I can just go on about my business. And I certainly don’t need to dress up in some goofy outfit, put on a party hat, blow into a kazoo, and lose all sense of decorum.

And yet, unfortunately for those of us who get too caught up within our “blessed assurance,” this ignores one important matter: the king–dare we say it, Yahweh, is intent upon throwing a lavish party, because Yahweh wants to celebrate the life and love of his son. Yahweh doesn’t want us to sit on our hands.

By the way, this morning, during our Carolina Arbors Bible Study, via Zoom, we talked at some length about the man’s clothing faux pas. Where did the others get their wedding robes? A number of scholars suggest that the king would have had his servants meet these commoners at the door and would have offered them a wedding robe of some kind. It might not have been the right color. It might not have fit properly. But you see, none of that matters, because it’s a celebration. The man, however, chose not to put on the robe. Can we see that the man chose not to celebrate with the king? He’d come in, yes; there was free food, but he wouldn’t be part of the celebration.

We spoke about one more important issue this morning: “Where was the man without the robe when the king addressed him?” The man was inside the banquet hall, at the banquet table. Rather than turn this parable into a story about who is excluded from Yahweh’s gracious kingdom, can we see that the man hadn’t been excluded at all. He was part of the celebration; he just didn’t want to join in. He was content with his own brand of “blessed assurance.”

Woody Allen is alleged to have said, “90 percent of life is showing up.” Can we see that when it comes to life with Yahweh, the 90 percent rule just doesn’t cut it! Showing up isn’t sufficient. Yahweh is calling us toward newness and transformation. Yahweh is calling us to and toward true celebration. His invitation is serious and there are consequences if we shun it. Rest assured; Yahweh will have his party, with or without us. Go on in. There are plenty of seats at the table. Put on a robe. Get yourself a cocktail and some caviar. Act silly! The party’s just starting and there’s nothing like it in this world.