What have we been called to do?

“…For many are called, but few are chosen...’’ (Matt 22:14)

Matthew 22:1-14 (Year A: Eighteenth Sunday after Trinity 15^th October 2017)

And the story runs on. Jesus is giving out to the ‘Chief Priests and the Elders of the people’ (Matthew 21:23). Having entered Jerusalem in a dramatic challenge by riding on a donkey and behaving as an other-wordly King, friend and champion of the poor and the lost; He causes havoc in the Temple; curses a fig tree and proceeds to tell a string of disparaging stories or parables that apply to the religious leaders of His time. This was surely not a case of ‘how to win friends and influence people’. 

The mild, gentle and humble Jesus was at large in Jerusalem causing trouble and landing himself in big trouble. All right, you may say, Jesus was the Second Person of the Trinity and was entitled to do all that. We would be missing the point, however, if we thought that the fullness of humanity as well as the fullness of divinity in Jesus Christ did not present itself as a human being fully alive and on fire for truth, justice and the coming of God’s kingdom here and now as well as in the future.

The story of the King and his wedding party offers a crude and even violent image of those invited but who refused and were cut off by the King. We would be entirely mistaking the point to think of this story as a story about a vengeful God who behaves like human kings.  In the course of human history, the ‘Kings’ of this world including dictators and manipulators resorted and resort to the threefold methods of bullying: (1) violence of word or deed; (2) threats; and (3) denial of any wrong-doing on the part of the bully (it is all the bullied’s fault, so it is insinuated by the bully).   Even if this Gospel story of a bully king who insists, threatens, bullies and takes revenge, the passage has resonance for us today. 

The key point is that we have been invited to something wonderful. That wonderful treasure is hidden away from the appearances, forms and outward structures of the community of disciples. At the heart of weekly worship (above all but not exclusively in the Eucharist) and at the heart of daily witness is the Life that Jesus gives us. That Life is our light and our food and our joy in being able to go forward through the deep and dark valleys and bright and spacious uplands of life’s journey. 

We are not alone.

The point of the story is that we are, all of us, invited to partake in something truly magnificent, life-affirming and life-giving. The problem is that we don’t know it because we are too busy with our own puny plans and projects thinking that what is on offer is too remote or unrealistic to be worth the effort. If only we knew and tasted a little of what is on offer. 80% of life is about turning up, quipped the comedian Woodie Allen. Turning up is not enough, however, as one of the wedding guests found out in this story. Coming with the right attitude and receptivity (being ‘appropriately clothed for the occasion’) is an important ingredient of a successful enjoyment of what is on offer. ‘I find such and such a religious rite boring and irrelevant’ is sometimes heard on the lips of young and old. But, if we only took time out to realise that these short weekly earthly excursions to the local wedding feast are a form of aperitif for a Great Party later. And different Tables at the Eucharist, at home and in the workplace are linked.

The question should not be ‘why go to mass every Sunday’ or ‘why should Holy Communion be the principal service every Sunday’. Rather, it should be ‘what a privilege to take a full part in the Mass/Eucharist/Holy Communion/Lord’s Supper. It is not only a sound catholic principle (with a small ‘c’) but it is a sound biblical value consistent with the patterns and habits of the early Christian community who met frequently to break Bread and Word, sing together and share their beliefs, hopes, stories and lives.

I think that, here in Europe, we have much to learn about party-going worship behaviour in some other continents of the world. The party can be so good that you don’t even want to go home too soon! Or, rather, the party doesn’t stop at the door of the place of worship.

For our paschal lamb, Christ, has been sacrificed. Therefore, let us celebrate the festival, not with the old yeast, the yeast of malice and evil, but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth. (1 Corinthians 5:7b-8).

And so we find ourselves in a troubled world this Sunday morning some two millennia later.  Might we listen again to the raw force and possibilities contained in the story we have just heard? What do we hear? How do we take this story with us in to this new week that beckons? We find ourselves this morning at a banquet of his Word and Body laid out by our Lord and Brother. This place does not belong to anyone in particular and we are, all of us, invited guests of the One who has given his life for us and continues to be present among us where two or three gather in his name.  Those of us who have the great privilege of being invited to and present at the Eucharist on the Lord’s Day – the day of resurrection celebrated weekly every Sunday by the disciples of Jesus since the first century – might reflect on what it is that we have been invited to and what it is that we are called to do not just this morning but for the week ahead.

As it says in Acts 2:42:

They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.

The party extends beyond Sundays.

According to some Jewish rabbinical saying, God will ask us only one question when we meet him after death: ‘Did you enjoy my creation?’