October 9, 2005 - 21st Sunday After Pentecost - Mother Stephanie Parker

FIRST READING: Isaiah 25: 1-9
PSALM: 23
SECOND READING: Philippians 4: 1-9
GOSPEL: Matthew 22: 1-14

(Audience participation will be noted in bold print and italics)

Well today, yet again, Jesus is still in the Temple embroiled in His continuing confrontation with the Jewish authorities. To remind you of the last several weeks, and if you haven't been in worship with the lectionary for the last couple of weeks, we are actually continuing a conversation that began for us several weeks ago - sort of like a mini-series - and we had to wait until this week to pick up where we left off last week.

If you remember, this began with the procession of palms. Jesus had just entered the city of Jerusalem to great glory and hosannas. He went almost immediately from there and overturned the tables in the Temple, immediately upsetting the Jewish authorities, and He came back later that day to teach in the Temple. As we remember, the Jewish authorities confronted Him and said, "By what authority do you do these things?" Then, Jesus started telling this series of parables - these parables that we have come to call The Controversy Parables.

So, as our passage begins, Jesus is sharing yet another parable, and, if we remember also - what is happening shortly after this? Where is Jesus headed in just a day or so?

The Cross

The Cross. These are tense and intense times that Jesus is in, so what Matthew relates in this troubling passage is one of those allegorical parables that Father Andrew actually talked about last week. Now, in this form of parable, each character in the story, in fact, symbolizes a key player for a vital truth about the Kingdom of God that Jesus is announcing. As the Gospel unfolds, if we listen closely, we begin to hear many, many things. We hear Jesus revealed - the history of God's loving, but troubled relationship with the people of Israel. We hear Jesus' word about the meaning and nature of Christian discipleship. Amidst these things, we hear something else, as well; something that, quite frankly, might trouble our hearts. We hear Jesus tell us of God's ultimate judgment upon those who have accepted God's unqualified invitation to enter the Kingdom. Jesus delivers the difficult news that following Him will be demanding and costly. Jesus tells us that we, like the beloved people of Israel, have a choice to make in how we respond to God's gracious invitation. Life in the Kingdom, Jesus is saying, is something than cannot be lived in half-measure. True discipleship is something we cannot take on simply as a weekend hobby or as a way to feel better about ourselves for a day or two a week. Our arrival at the banquet must find us willing to be transformed by God's endless and loving Grace. Our transformation will need to be as apparent as a sparkling white wedding robe. It is not enough, Jesus is saying, to simply show up. Life in the Kingdom demands not perfection, not moral purity even, but our full and unstinting commitment. We are told, in today's Gospel, that to do nothing less than give Christ the totality of our lives may well result in their eternal forfeiture. How can it possibly be true that, in God's gracious and boundless Kingdom, many are called, but few are chosen?

Now, with the passage of time, some of the hard edges of the difficult teachings from our Scriptures have been worn smooth to us. They have worn thin and worn smooth and dull by how familiar we have become with them. This passage, however, I think, still spills out over us with a flow of words that can leave us feeling quite confused and troubled. These are hard words to confront, and I know, as your preacher, I thought long and hard about preaching on that beautiful passage from Philippians - The peace that passes all understanding! Wouldn't that be a lovely sermon? - not having to talk about weepin' and gnashin' of the teeth?! And I know some of you are going to accuse me of being that Baptist that you do after I finish this sermon here, as well! Just hang on tight! Remember, I am a much better Episcopalian than I was a Baptist!

So, it would be easy to skip over this very difficult passage. These are hard words to confront, but Jesus' truthfulness, my friends, is uncompromising. So, as faithful Christians, we are called this day to examine the true nature of our understanding of God's judgment. We are called today to examine closely the true nature of our own understanding of God's judgment - God's judgment on those for whom He so lovingly spreads the banquet. Incredible image from Isaiah! What a lovely feast to be invited to. And now, the King with His wedding banquet.

Now, as we stand in the long shadow that has been cast by the devastating events of the past several weeks, we might wonder - What in the world is there in this passage that can bring us the Good News? I think Andrew asked the same question last week. It is one that is right out there. Where, in these troubling words - what is there that can possibly comfort us in the face of our growing fear and increasing anxiety? Now, for some - and we must admit this truth - the notion of God's judgment upon those who transgress might bring great comfort, and if we don't admit it, I think we're not coming to Jesus! O.K.? Now, we might think of it as a great comfort, particularly, in all seriousness, when we think of people who perpetrate great evil, like terrorists or despots. We want to hold some people like that and their actions to a greater condemning judgment. Or, this passage might just leave us wondering about the nature of judgment that some believe God so cruelly delivers on all those poor souls we hear about or read about in the papers every day - people who are senselessly robbed of their lives or happiness in random acts of cruelty, violence, war, natural disasters, divorce, betrayal, or sudden loss - any of these things. Now God, according to this punitive model where God is punishing us when we are having times of misfortune, this God is invisible, unpredictable, vengeful, and cruelly-random. Just listen to people in the midst of any tragedy or crisis that they are suffering, and, sooner or later, you might hear this phrase: "Did God do this to punish me? God, what have I done? Am I being punished?" It is a heartfelt plea that we have all possibly uttered at one point from the depths of despair and darkness that is so great it is hard to feel the light penetrate and touch us. The nature of God's judgment has long been a fearful and confusing question for us. I know many people who profess a loving and merciful life-giving God, but who can turn in an instant to the belief that the outer darkness is the penalty we pay for an imperfect life. Have any of you ever felt that way? Be honest! I'm going to raise my hand. O.K., I am the only one in the room with those two guys? O.K.!

Back here!

Well good. Thank you for the choir!

What is more difficult to reconcile with this thought, however, is that the God who loves us so much - now let's think about this connection - How can we reconcile this thinking with the God that loves us so much that He gave His only begotten Son that the whole world might be reconciled to Him? How could our God possibly be that kind of punishing God that we were just talking about?

Now, again, you may well be wondering to yourselves whether or not I remember the words of the Gospel that I just read. If some misguided soul at God's heavenly banquet is thrown into the eternal darkness for not having the right clothes, after, I might add, accepting a last-minute invitation to the celebration, surely then this Scripture proves that God must be an invisible, unpredictable, and cruelly-random judge. How in the world do we reconcile these questions? Shouldn't true evil be punished? And wouldn't God be the person who punishes true evil? Is God, in Christ, a merciful judge or a punishing judge? Today's Gospel does point us clearly to the answers, but, like most things that are challenging, it requires our faithful attention.

Rejection, violence, judgment, and death - today, we witness these both in our world and in our Scriptures. In the most paradoxical way, the violence in today's passage can offer us a strange consolation as we face the darkness the world sometimes can hold for us. Today, Matthew reminds us that the Bible is not all lambs and rainbows, and I, for one, am eternally grateful. Eternally grateful. If it were, as Barbara Brown Taylor tells us, it wouldn't be our book! If it was all softness and light, would it tell our story? It couldn't. She reminds us that Scripture has everything in it - wonder and terror, as well as our worst fears and our best hopes - both for ourselves and for our relationship with God. It, quite frankly, also contains some very boring law books and very boring census material. It's all there! All of it! It is not all lambs and rainbows. The greatest hope of all in this is found in that both the terrors and the joys - and this is key - are wrapped up in the fullness of our Covenant story with God. The totality of this life we live - the good, the bad, and the ugly; all of its joy and all of its sorrow - is wrapped up in God's loving and redemptive embrace.

Now, in this light, we re-visit today's passage. Now, as I said before, in this kind of parable, this allegorical parable, the symbolic meaning of the allegory can be unlocked. It's very direct. Jesus' message, both then and now, becomes quite clear. In a straight interpretation, we might hear Jesus saying something like this - I am going to take it out of its allegorical form and, in my creative way, hopefully, open it up a little bit for you.

But, first, remember the context. I want to set this very clearly. This is not Jesus over and against the Temple authorities pointing His finger and warning them that this is their last chance. Jesus is not at odds with the Temple authorities. Jesus desperately, desperately wants them to be reconciled and brought to the table. So, the context of this very intense conversation is this, and think of any conversation you, yourselves, have ever had with a spouse, a partner, a child, or a parent who was intent on self-destruction and who was bent on making a mess out of their lives. What do you do? You say things like, "Please, listen to me!" The intensity of this conversation is great. The language is fair; it is to the point; it does not seek to spare feelings; it seeks to bring somebody to salvation and to bring them out of this point of despair.

So, it might go something like this: "The Kingdom of Heaven is breaking into this world, and it is colliding head-on with the old. I tell you these things so that you may understand, My friends, that you have a choice to make. I am the Messiah! The Son of God! I have come to dwell with you, and this is cause for great celebration! God, the Father, has laid open the gates of Heaven, so that no one, no one, will be excluded from God's heavenly banquet. God has loved you, Israel. You were the first to be invited to share in all that I am, but, time and time again, you rejected My invitation. You placed the ordinary things of life before Me, pursuing your own wills, and when I sent My servants, the prophets, to call you back to justice and mercy, and to pay attention to what was really important in life, you killed them. Even now, as I stand before you in the flesh, My Israel, you seek to take My life, as well. Jerusalem will fall. The Temple will be destroyed. Its heavy fortified holy walls cannot save you from your own folly. All choices have consequences, and God cannot save you from the bad choices that you make. I want you to come to this celebration. I also want the gates of Heaven to be opened to sinners, Gentiles, Samaritans, and all other peoples of this earth. And, like you, they have done nothing to merit this entrance into the Kingdom, and all I ask of them is the same thing I have asked of you - they must love God with all of their hearts, and with all of their minds, and with all of their souls, and they must love and value the other as much as they value themselves. But I have a word of warning for the newly-invited, as well: Like you, My people of Israel, they need to learn that Grace is free and cannot be earned. Everyone, everyone has equal access. Your imperfectness will never bar you from the Kingdom, but, I tell you, do not accept this Grace unless you are willing to be transformed by God's love - transformed as though you had changed from a dirty garment into a white robe. I've got to tell you, if you come freely to the banquet, and you find yourself mute before God and unwilling to receive God's Grace for all, then I cannot save you. To come to this banquet unchanged by this great gift of God's Grace will result in its own punishment, dealt by none other than you, alone. If you get to the table and decide the person beside you is unworthy, and you choose to leave, My friends, you have just sent yourself to the outer darkness. I invite you all, good and bad, but, in the end, you, yourselves, are the ones who must decide. Many of you will say yes and then simply decide that the cost is just too high. My Grace is free, but it is not cheap. Discipleship is often costly. The world will treat you no better than it has treated Me. But, I promise you this: I will be with you always - always."

The rejection, violence, judgment, and death of this world reside side-by-side with the in-breaking Kingdom of God, my friends. What is present in our world is present in our Scripture, because Scripture is the story of both our loving and merciful God and the story of the brokenness and darkness this world can sometimes hold. Today's Gospel, in all its seeming harshness, is actually a deep and abiding Word of the Love of God for God's people. When we look at the evil and pain in the world and how quickly it can cast its sudden merciless judgment, the words of today's message have much to tell us about the true nature, not of the judgment of the world - we know what that looks like; It's harsh; it's capricious - but the true nature of the judgment of God. The judgment dealt by the brokenness of the world is self-serving and utterly pitiless in its thoughtlessness. It speaks to serve only self. The people who lost their pensions in the Enron scandal - God didn't take their pensions away. That wasn't God's judgment; that was Enron executives' judgment. That was the brokenness of the world breaking in with that random cruelty. This is the kind of judgment that is invisible, unpredictable, and cruelly-random, not God's judgment. Left un-repented or un-transformed, a life refusing to be touched by God's Grace judges itself, does it not, in the end? The cynical and hopeless expression of life, even if we profess ourselves as Christians, judges itself with the same harsh verdict with which it judges the world. What does Jesus say? "If your eye is dark, your world will be dark".

You make the choice. To stand before the throne of our loving and merciful God in silent rejection of Grace and Mercy, for yourself as well as for others, is, in the end, its own harsh judgment. Again, we have a choice to make. We can judge ourselves by the world's standards and suffer, or we can stand before Christ in all of our unworthiness, whatever it may be, and be blessed with Eternal Life.

Again, I say it, the choice is ours.

So, as we look at today's Gospel and think of the tragic ways the world can fail us, we do find words that can comfort us in our fear and in our anxiety. This is key, because if we believe that the One to whom we surrender ourselves for judgment in the end is merciful and loving, we must then believe that the world that we live in, with all of its flaws and all of its brokenness, can be saved. If we believe in God's Mercy and Love, we must believe that the pain and failure we suffer in this world can always, always be redeemed. In this truth, there is no place of brokenness, sadness, betrayal, of any act you have done to yourself, or of any act you have done to another - in this belief, tomorrow truly is another day. And you have a chance to begin again. This is God's judgment.

So, our Scripture tells us the whole story - the story of our sorrow and pain, and the story of evil, as well as the story of God's continuing love and forgiveness for the world that God has made. And, because God, through our Scriptures, gives us this great gift, we know that the pain we might find in this world will never, ever have the last word.

So, whether the terror is heard on Sunday in the Scriptures, like we read today, or lived in our lives in any way that we confront these challenges every day, the question before us remains the same: Do we trust God to act mercifully in all the events of our lives? - All of the events, good and bad, up to and including that final judgment? The choice, at this point, the Scripture tells us today quite clearly is all ours.

God has already chosen.

God always chooses mercy, forgiveness, and love.

AMEN