Sisters & brothers, grace to you & peace from the God who invites, the Christ who calls, and the Spirit who lures. Amen.

Sitting at a wedding banquet in the Courtyard Marriott last evening, I looked around the room to see all the guests of Julie and Craig. There were all the usual suspects at a wedding banquet. There was the wedding party bedecked in their festive garb: bride beautiful Julie (beloved soprano in our choir, she’s not here this morning), Craig the groom whose buttons were busting with pride in his bride, the beaming attendants, the loving parents of the couple, Julie’s father — a retired Lutheran pastor — now confined to a wheelchair but able at long last to accompany his buoyant and elegant daughter down this aisle earlier in the evening. There were coworkers and childhood friends. The entire St. Paul’s Choir was there, having kissed these rafters with their prayerful anthem during the marriage liturgy. There was the DJ who seemed to swallow his microphone and sounded more like Charlie Brown’s teacher. Guests galore. Some dancing, twisting and shouting, out on the dance floor. This morning it feels like I might have twisted the wrong way.

The dinner arrived, servers scurrying back and forth from the kitchen with plates of beef, chicken, and the pasta primavera for the non-carnivores among us. The champagne glasses were filled for toasting, wine glasses were refilled once — maybe twice — and the joy and gladness of the wedding feast was palpable.

We were all in our places, doing what invited guests do at a wedding banquet. We were celebrating. We were all gussied up, looking fine and festive — yes, even the Lutherans. We were feasting — savoring the food and drink. We were relishing the moment of joy for Julie & Craig, who have found in each other a love and a life.

I thought of this morning’s text (well, it was Saturday night after all). What if none of the invited had RSVP’d favorably, like in the parable Jesus told the disciples? What if everyone had checked “regrets?” Worse yet, what if everyone, refusing the invitation, didn’t even bother to send the RSVP note back at all? It’s hard to imagine. How hurtful to hear the lame excuses as phone calls would be made to follow-up with the guest list. “Sorry, I have to work that weekend.” –or- “Sorry, Wall Street is a shambles, and I’m a wreck.” -or- “Sorry, I’m all tied-up-in-knots over this election.” –or- “Sorry, gas prices…you know…”

One layer of this parable Jesus tells is getting at the religious leaders of the day for rejecting the message of the prophets (and the prophets themselves) who were preparing the people to receive the Promised One, the Messiah. St. Matthew wrote his gospel following the first Jewish revolt against Rome and the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem in 70 CE, and so he is interpreting those current events in light of Jesus’ teachings.

Another layer of reality is the increasing numbers of Gentiles — those who were not Jewish — who were responding favorably to the message of Jesus, the one who had been crucified and risen from the dead. The new message being preached was that salvation wasn’t only just for the people of Israel anymore, as was the teaching of the religious establishment, but was for everyone. Not just for those living by the laws prescribed by Moses, but also for those who had nothing to do with Moses and all those rules and regs.

That message was rocking St. Matthew’s world, and that radical message of who is invited to the wedding banquet, who is invited to the feast of God’s eternal reign, who is welcome at the celebration of cosmic salvation, is still rocking the religious establishment and their various institutions up to this present moment. Christian denominations and religious institutions of every tradition continue to debate who are invited, who are chosen, and who are included.

These days, we are seeing in excruciating ways how our national political discourse is also divided by those who find other-ness threatening: Muslims, Arabs, persons of any color other than white, immigrant people, people who find love in another of the same gender, refugees, people who don’t believe or live the same way you do, people whose patriotism is expressed in ways different from our own.

“Go therefore into the main streets, and invite everyone you find to the wedding banquet,” said the king to his slaves. And St. Matthew continues, “Those slaves went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad; so the wedding hall was filled with guests.”

That “good and bad” part really gets under our skin. Because we all just want the good ones to be invited. People like us, people who think the way we do, people who agree with our point of view. Not those others. Not those ones. Just the good ones.

If Jesus’ parable gets under your skin this morning, then mission accomplished. If Jesus’ picture of the kingdom of heaven disturbs you, makes you wonder, offends, scandalizes, trips you up, then he gets his point across with this parable.

And just to push it one bit further, there is this fellow who comes into the banquet hall but doesn’t bother to take the lovely wedding garment that has been provided for those who have just been pulled-in off the streets. This is a wedding banquet after all, and it’s for the prince, so the king — being the ever-gracious host who thinks of everything — provides elegant attire for those who might not otherwise have been dressed and ready for the occasion. For some reason, this fellow refuses the robe. A gracious invitation, a lovely banquet hall, a festive occasion, the fatted calf on the barby, enough wine for multiple glasses-full, but this one wouldn’t — or didn’t — put on the robe, and was unable to give a reason.

It might be likened to one of these beautiful quilts being given to someone who is shivering cold and feeling alone and uncared for. Here is warmth, here is a blanket, here is love and compassion — stitched just for you. But the one to whom it is freely given, and for whom it has been graciously prepared, refuses it in all its beauty and simply will not wrap it around themselves. And so, by refusing to wrap themselves up, they will be left out in the cold — a blanket in their hands, ready to warm them when they are ready to snuggle into its softness, into its welcoming embrace, into the gift that is in their very hands.

St. Paul’s words from the 2nd reading describe what the gift of that wedding robe looks like: “Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near.”

Sisters and brothers, may we all be found wearing the robe of rejoicing as we too are pulled off the streets, as we too are beckoned in from the highways and by-ways and freeways of life, as we too are invited to the wedding feast.

May we be found wearing the robe of rejoicing that we have been invited and chosen, and so has our neighbor.

In the words of the prophet Isaiah, “Let us be glad and rejoice in God’s salvation.”

Come to the wedding banquet. The feast is ready to begin and there is plenty at this table for all. Plenty of grace, plenty of forgiveness, and plenty of love to go around.

Amen.