So the servants went out into the streets and gathered all the people they could find, the bad as well as the good, and the wedding hall was filled with guests. (Matthew 22:10)
Weddings are delightful celebrations, but preparing for one can sometimes be a challenge. There are invitations to send, decisions about who to invite, RSVPs to track, venues to decide on, and, of course, the ever-important question: What am I going to wear?
A few years ago, I attended a wedding at a lovely event center in the middle of Iowa farmland. The setting was beautiful, with an outdoor area beside a pond and tall stalks of corn stretching into the distance. It was a perfect place for the celebration.
As I watched the wedding party gather, I found myself thinking about how much bridesmaids’ dresses have improved over the years. I also thought about the bridesmaids who stood beside me at my own wedding (and I owe them an apology for what I had asked them to wear!)
Weddings may have changed over the years, but the desire to celebrate love, gather our favorite people, and share a joyful occasion remains much the same.
Jesus tells a story in the gospel of Matthew about a king who prepares a wedding banquet for his son. When the invited guests refuse to come, the king sends his servants out again. Eventually, the invitation extends to everyone they can find, both good and bad, until the wedding hall is full.
It sounds like a wonderful celebration! But then the story takes a disturbing turn. One guest, who isn’t wearing the proper wedding garment, is thrown out into the darkness. The ending is unsettling, especially when we remember that this guest was asked to come from the streets without much warning at all.
What are we supposed to make of this story?
The stories in which Jesus talks about the kingdom of heaven aren’t always easy to understand. Sometimes they comfort us; sometimes they challenge us. And sometimes, as in this story, they leave us with more questions than answers.
Why does Jesus compare this wedding banquet to the kingdom of heaven? (In researching this, I discovered there are more “scholarly” explanations about this parable than there are ugly bridesmaid dresses…)
Who does the king represent? What are we to make of the guest who is cast out? Is this a story about judgment, about our response to God’s invitation, or about something else entirely?
Maybe the best place to begin is with the invitation itself.
The king’s servants go out into the streets and gather everyone they can find. The invitation isn’t limited to the people we expect: the people who have the “right” connections, or those most loyal to the king.
God’s invitation reaches beyond the boundaries we so often create:
Between insiders and outsiders,
the worthy and the unworthy,
the people who belong and those who are made to feel they don’t.
We humans are pretty good at deciding who belongs. We make judgments based on appearance, background, beliefs, past mistakes, and all sorts of other things.
Sometimes we even convince ourselves that we need to get our own lives in order before we can approach God.
But I think the heart of this message is not that we make ourselves worthy of God’s love.
It’s that God’s love comes to us first.
Martin Luther described this relationship as a wonderful, happy exchange. Through Christ, we receive the gifts of God’s grace, mercy, and righteousness, while Christ takes upon himself our sin, shame, and brokenness.
We don’t earn our place in God’s family – we simply belong.
We don’t have to pretend to be someone we’re not.
We don’t have to hide our doubts, disguise our struggles, or wait until we’ve become better versions of ourselves before we come to God.
We are invited as we are.
And if God’s invitation is wider than our own, how might that change the way we welcome others?
And if we truly believe that God’s love is for everyone, what might it look like to make room at our own tables for people who have been left out?
Here’s the good news I keep returning to: We are not loved by God because we are beautiful, worthy, or perfect.
We are beautiful because we are loved by God.
The invitation is already extended.
There is room at the table. For you. For them. For everyone.
