Trinity 2 Dcn. Russell Hobbs
Trinity Anglican Church Given: 06/13/10
SECOND SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY – Luke 14:16-24
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled.” (Mat. 5:6)
It is no small thing to get an invitation from God. He is, after all, the source of every joy, pleasure, hope, love, and beauty that exists. “Every good gift comes from above, from the Father of the lights of heaven.” (James 1:17). It is surprising, then to see how often we settle for second best.
Jesus was once invited to dine with a leading Pharisee and his guests. Evidence of Jesus’ miracles, his claims, and his willingness to confront had no doubt preceded him, and the banquet gave the host and his other guests a chance to hear and see Jesus for themselves. He lived up to his reputation. He healed a sick man—it was the Sabbath. He challenged them to humble themselves and to give to those who could not return the favor. Perhaps in an attempt to turn the conversation in a less provoking direction, one of the guests said, “Happy the man who shall sit at the feast in the Kingdom of God.”
Jesus willingly took up the topic and transformed it. The feast of the Kingdom was ready now! Jesus gave them the parable that is our Gospel reading for Trinity 2. A certain rich man, he said, sent invitations out widely for a banquet and when the day arrived and everything was ready he sent a servant to bring the invited guests to his house. All of them made excuses. Three cases were typical. One needed to see some land he had bought. Another needed to try out five yoke of oxen he had procured for his farm. The third, had just married. They could not come. Justly angered, the master of the house sent his servant into the needy corners of the city to bring in poor, the maimed, the halt, and the blind. When the table was still not full, the master sent the servant beyond the city limits to make more come in and fill his house. Then the Master said, “Not one of those men who were invited shall taste my banquet.”
The Master’s words are no petty chiding. In this parable, Jesus uncovers the loving heart of God. Everything was now ready: the Messiah had come, full salvation was being proclaimed, the miraculous evidences of the invading Kingdom of God were obvious. Jesus was himself the fullness of God, the unequaled revealer of the Father. And he had come that they might have life, and have it in abundance.
His listeners likely understood well certain features of the parable. They were the ones who were too busy with the good things of life—land, business, family—to come to the table of salvation richly set by the Father through his Son Jesus. Jesus’ fellow guests probably understood that the lame, poor, and blind represented the needy Jews—often outcasts—that flocked to Jesus. More offensive yet, those from the highways and byways, from outside the city, represented Gentiles who would sit at the master’s table. Yet they, the leaders of the Jews, would be excluded.
A few days earlier Jesus had declared: “There will be wailing and grinding of teeth there, when you see Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and all the prophets, in the kingdom of God, and you yourselves thrown out. From east and west people will come, from north and south, for the feast in the kingdom of God. Yes, and some who are now last will be first, and some who are first will be last.” (Luke 13:28).
And what about you and me. We know that real life cannot be found in two places. We cannot serve God and money, or God and anything—service to God is categorically different. Life can sometimes be quite sweet with successes and ventures, with the blessings of family, or government, or a soft bed at night. These are gifts from God for our enjoyment. Yet, we too are invited to something different. God our Father calls to us: “I will be your God and you will be my people.” Do we put him off?
Let’s get real specific. What does it mean to sit at the banquet table set for us by the master? It means at least two things. First, to sit at the banquet table means to assist at the Eucharistic feast. Second, to sit at the banquet table means to embrace the fundamental reorientation implied in our baptism and confirmation.
First, then, we see the banquet that Christ, through his representative, will set before us here this morning in the Eucharist. The exhortation read last Sunday used this very gospel parable to call you and me to come to the table. After all, is it not the case as Saint Paul says: “When we bless ‘the cup of blessing’, is it not a means of sharing in the blood of Christ? When we break the bread, is it not a means of sharing in the body of Christ.” (1 Cor. 10:16)
Second, accepting the Father’s invitation to the fully-prepared banquet of life and salvation in Christ means embracing a radical internal reorientation. The seed and the fullness of grace given to us in baptism and confirmation bursts up like a flowering bud into a categorically different kind of life. Coming fully to God in Christ overwhelms all other things within us. In the verses immediately following our Gospel reading Jesus shocks the crowds with this: “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, even his own life, he cannot be a disciple of mine.” This was hyperbole—obvious exaggeration to make a point. It is like another saying of Jesus: “If your right hand is your undoing, cut it off and fling it away; it is better for you to lose one part of your body than for the whole of it to go to hell.” (Mat 5:30) He is not recommending mutilation; and, he is not commanding hatred of our spouses or children. He seems to say that the love of God in Christ—coming to God’s table of salvation—is an overpowering realignment of priorities. To those who instead choose the good things of this world he says: “None of those men which were bidden shall taste of my supper.”
This inner transformation can take some time—a lifetime! Paul talks of the need to have our minds renewed. (Rom 12:1) Most of us have seen the shell of an opened Robin’s egg. The tiny bird inside had broken out from the quite, dim world of the shell into a dissonance of sounds and smells. This was a one-way door—the tiny creature can never go back—in fact, if it is to survive it must growth and struggle continuously. Baptism is the door through Christ into his church. Yet, when the door is opened, we find ourselves in a sort of a miles-high majestic stairwell going ever up. There are beautiful stained-glass windows lining the stairwell and depicting the life of our Savior and of faithful believers through the centuries. And far above shines a gloriously unbearable light. What will we do? Sitting is uncomfortable and not really allowed—and others on the way up may step on our toes. We could jump out a window to our destruction, but that is obviously foolish. Certainly the only wise thing, my brothers and sisters, is to heed the voice of the Master that calls to us through John the Apostle, in the last few verses of our Bible, (Rev. 22:17) ““Come!” say the Spirit and the bride. “Come!” let each hearer reply. Come forward, you who are thirsty; accept the water of life, a free gift to all who desire it.”