11 October 2026, 20th Sunday after Pentecost

Exodus 32.1-14   Psalm 106.1-6; 20-24   Philippians 4:1-9   Matthew 22.1-14

It has been said that religion is supposed to comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable, and our gospel text today certainly does that.  This parable is not a pleasant one to hear, especially if we take it literally.  This king is easily angered, lacks inclusion and gracefulness, does not tolerate error and appears very vindictive.  Even when the invitation is expanded to include all people, we see that the king is still irked, especially when you come inappropriately dressed.  If this king is supposed to be God, these actions do not gel with the God I know as generous, forgiving, gracious and loving.  Which begs the question; what is the ‘more’ in this story, what ‘more’ is required, or expected or even necessary.   How do we determine what the ‘more’ looks like or includes.

But maybe this passage is not really interested in those types of questions.  Maybe this passage is telling us plainly that a seat at the table in the Kingdom of Heaven will require us to do more than RSVP and just show up.  Calling yourself Christian is not enough, we actually have to act like it as well.  Matthew tells us there is an accountability beyond our initial response of discipleship, accountability beyond our ‘yes’, to God’s invitation to the party.

It is important for us to remember that one of the clear messages in this parable is that God is a God who invites all, no matter who they are or what they have done.  The parable tells us that God is a God of expansive love and radical inclusiveness.  Through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, we see just how far God will go to offer this invitation of grace and also, we see that God’s words of love and forgiveness are more powerful than any words of punishment, hate or fear.

Matthew goes to great lengths to point out that the ‘invited’ guests, the ‘acceptable people’, found a myriad of excuses to not attend the wedding feast.  It is difficult for us to understand his underlying motivation in framing the story like this.  And we need to be very careful not to portray this in ways that become antisemitic, because I do not think that was Matthew’s meaning.  Yes, the Matthean followers were being ‘ostracised’ by the Jewish authorities who did not accept Jesus as the ‘much longed for’ Messiah, but Matthew was not taking a jibe at them by portraying them as those who declined the invitation.  I think he is speaking more broadly to all of us about where our priorities in life lie.  Do I follow God when it pleases me or I have nothing more important to do, or do I follow God with all my heart, and soul and mind, especially when I have lots of other things going on in my life.  And we need to be constantly asking ourselves, where and to what is God inviting me to go or do now, in this situation I am currently in, in this awkward moment of confusion or busyness or maybe even in this moment of relaxation.  Invitations come in many guises and forms and we are not always open to see them even when they are staring us in the face.

In the ending of this parable, Matthew challenges us to consider how we will present ourselves at the eschatological feast of God.  Have I ‘just turned up’ or have I prepared myself and clothed myself so that I am ready to respond to God’s immediate call to action.  It is easy to ‘cruise’ through life ‘talking the talk’ without really engaging in the dialogue.  It is easy for us to ‘look the part’ without buying in to the journey, and the end of this parable makes it clear that that is not enough.  We actually need to ‘buy in’ to being Christian, we have to make it mean something for how we act, how we talk, how we engage with the world.

Now I said before that this ‘angry vengeful’ God, if that is who the king is supposed to be, is not the God I know.  But maybe, that is the God the world knows because of how we speak and act.  Maybe, even though we do not believe in such a God, my language, my actions, my ‘messages’ both conscious and unconscious, are about that sort of a God.  This parable starts by telling us the Kingdom of Heaven is like a king who throws a wedding feast.  So, if we were to compare kingdoms, is my table open to all comers?  Does my love extend to those who refuse the invitation?  Am I willing to extend welcome to those who come unprepared, unwashed and improperly attired.  Do I have a hidden agenda in seeing some ‘thrown into outer darkness’.  And finally, am I known for my impeccable honour, or for my scandalous hospitality.  Maybe, if we allow ourselves to be ‘disturbed’ out of our comfortable misconceptions about God, then the God who truly is can use us to bring genuine comfort to the disturbed and all the world’s afflicted.