Sermon for October 11, 2020 Pentecost 19A House of Prayer Lutheran Church

Matthew 22:1-14 Rev. Karl-John N. Stone

I’ve probably mentioned that I’m a big baseball fan, and like most baseball fans I’ve had my heart broken by my favorite team. Since I’m a lifelong fan of the New York Mets, and grew up just a couple miles from their stadium, I’ve had my heart broken many, many times. But not always. About eight years ago we decided to take our sons to their first major league game. This was when we lived in Pennsylvania, and my parents still lived in New York. So we made plans to visit my parents for the weekend and go to a Saturday afternoon game to see the Mets at their new ballpark, Citi Field.

With my boys being pretty young, I figured they wouldn’t last more than 5 innings. I also figured that I might as well buy the cheap seats since we’d probably be leaving early. So we rode the subway to the stadium, and walked into the beautiful entrance rotunda. We rode an escalator up. And another escalator up. And another. Then we walked all the way around the upper deck to left field, and up the steep stairs until we got to the worst seats in the house, baking in the summer sun. My wife Beth Ann looked around and pointed down the foul line a bit. “Hey, all of those empty seats over there are in the shade.” So we went to the shady seats and settled in to watch. About an inning later, a Mets employee walks over to us. I’m thinking, “she's gonna hassle us and make us go back to our old seats.” So I’m preparing to be disappointed. And she says, “Can I ask you a question?” OK. “How would you like to sit behind home plate?” Wait--what?!?! For free? “Yes,” she said. OK!

So she led us through the stadium. Into a special elevator that you could only ride if you had the right tickets. Past the fancy restaurant for VIPs. Down to the field level seats. She checks the tickets, looks around-- “oh, we can’t get to your seats from here. Follow me.” We go back inside, through a special hallway. “Here is the visitor’s clubhouse. Here is the players weight room. Here is a special air-conditioned lounge--if you get hot, come and cool off in here and enjoy all the free food and drink you want. Ok, now here are your seats.” Six rows behind home plate, right by the on-deck circle! Extra-wide, cushioned seats! And look, you can see the dirt on David Wright’s uniform pants from where he slid into second base!

I told my boys, “make sure you enjoy this because it’s probably never going to happen again.” And guess what? The whole family made it through all nine innings and didn’t want to leave, as we watched the Mets beat the Cubs 3-1. And that level of enjoyment was made possible, in part, because we chose to believe a good thing when we heard it. We could have said, no we’ll just sit here in the upper deck--you go find another family to sit behind home plate. But instead we enjoyed the grace and generosity that was offered to us, which we had done nothing to earn or deserve. In fact, they would have been within their rights to send us back to the cheap seats, but we ended up as honored guests in the best seats in the house.

Honored guests--kind of like the honored guests that a king invited to the wedding banquet for his son. This is the parable we heard Jesus tell today in Matthew’s gospel, to help us see what the kingdom of heaven is like. This was Jesus’ favorite teaching method, telling parables. Some were straightforward and fairly easy to understand, but others seem designed to confuse us--or at least challenge our assumptions about how we think God works.

This is one of those parables. It tells us about a king. And the king starts off doing all the kinds of things you’d expect a king to do: throw a big wedding banquet for his son, invite a guest list of “who’s-who” in the community. But then the invited guests start acting all weird. A great feast is waiting for them, but they won’t believe a good thing when they hear it. So the king sends his slaves to make sure they get the guests were aware of the invitation, but “they made light of it and went away, one to his farm, another to his business, while the rest seized the king's slaves, mistreated them, and killed them.”

So what does the king do to all of these respectable citizens who rejected his generosity? He sends in the cavalry, destroys those murderers, and burns their city! Isn’t that what we’d expect the king to do for such an insult? And if the king in this story is supposed to represent God, isn’t that what we’d like God to do on our behalf? We love to imagine a God who wreaks vengeance on our enemies; who defeats our opponents and gives them what they deserve. And because it’s God we’re talking about, he can take care of all this business before the prime rib and mashed potatoes get cold in the fancy banquet hall.

But then something else weird happens--and maybe this new weirdness is Jesus pushing us to re-examine our assumptions about God. Because the king in the parable--this God of vengeance we think we want--turns our idea of who God is upside down. The invited guests are not worthy? OK--just go invite everyone to the banquet. Go up to the cheap seats and find the people who aren’t even sitting in the right seats that they paid for--and upgrade them to the best seats in the house, behind home plate, with all the free food and drink they want. Go invite everyone you find--the good and the bad. And that would seem to include even the kind of people who had snubbed the king’s invitation earlier in the day.

God wants everybody at the banquet, because he knows that once we start learning the values of the kingdom of heaven, and experience what that’s like, we won’t want to leave. We heard St. Paul described those values in last week’s sermon as the fruits of the Spirit: Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. These are the values we grow in the more we surrender ourselves to Jesus and allow him to lead us in his way of life. As we live with the awareness of the presence of God in our life, the Holy Spirit starts to transform us through faith--as long as we’re willing to believe a good thing when we hear it.

And in this parable, the second time around the guests did believe it: “the wedding hall was filled with guests”--it seems that all these good and bad guests were enjoying the party. They were all wearing a wedding robe--which is to say, they were all putting their faith in Christ and enjoying the grace and generosity of God given to them for free. Except one guy. The king saw one guy who was not wearing a wedding robe, and says, “Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?” I invited you, I put you on the guest list, I made all this delicious food for you to enjoy. I want you to be included! Will you believe a good thing when you hear it?

And the man was speechless. He has no answer--which is how he casts himself out. He could have given an answer. Any answer. He could have said how he didn’t think he deserved this upgrade, and had done nothing to earn it--after all, he was supposed to be sitting in the cheap seats and baking in the sun. And the king would have said, “oh, come on man! Don’t worry about that--I’ve got a great wedding robe for you with your name on it!” But instead he was speechless. He couldn’t believe that such grace and generosity were even for him. Or maybe he didn’t want the transformation in his life that would surely come if he accepted the invitation. We often find it’s easier to stay stuck in our old habits even if they harm us, than it is to risk changing for new habits even if they’ll lead us to greater joy and fulfillment.

Like the one guy who didn’t wear the wedding robe, we can choose to cast ourselves out. But God’s amazing grace is still available for all because Christ died on the cross and rose again for all. His forgiveness, love, and mercy is for all--and he calls to each of us in our common humanity. Whether you wear a tux, a fancy dress, a greasy apron, or rags--God’s got your name on the guest list. Whether you’re a Democrat, a Republican, an independent, or non-political--God has a spot in his banquet waiting for you. Whether you’ve been going to church your whole life, are new to faith, or are trying to figure out what you believe or where you fit in--God’s promise of welcome in his kingdom is always open. So let’s enjoy the banquet! Amen.