“Why Wouldn’t You Attend a Prince’s Wedding?”
Matthew 22:1-14
First Presbyterian Church
Rev. Donald E. Ray
October 12, 2008
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Over the past 25 or so
years, my experience officiating at weddings has mostly not been with
people in the usual church setting. Many have come at the request of
colleagues from work. Some have been referrals from their friends.
Some of the couples I have not known very well, if at all prior to being asked
to officiate at their marriage. Most have had little if any relationship
with a church.
While I have been present for all the marriage ceremonies,
I have not attended all the receptions—that part of a wedding our culture
tends to consider paramount to the celebration. For some, I could easily
excuse my absence. Since my only acquaintance was related to the marriage,
recommended by a friend or friend of a friend, the couple’s inviting me to the
related festivities could well be from a feeling of obligation. To decline
I reasoned, would simply ease discomfort all around.
Prompted by this week’s Gospel text, on reflection I wonder what influences and values may have factored into my decision whether to attend the festivities or not.
This cycle of lectionary readings in Matthew’s Gospel includes four parables two of which have been Tom’s focus in recent weeks. The first about equal pay for unequal work we may ponder anew each day in our current economic crisis. The second about broken promises we can identify with too easily and discount it as just being human nature. We’ve all said we would do things and just haven’t gotten around to it. And now and then, after consideration we’ve done things we at first declined.
Bypassed for the present with the observance of World Communion Sunday was the third of the parables; a gruesome tale of a business coup in which tenants massacre servants and murder the landlord’s son to gain ownership of his vineyard. Perhaps it was just as well passed by. Drawing a connection with that story would be a hard sell. We here would be above being that ruthless.
Then there is this fourth parable. They don’t get any easier to live with. I could have titled this sermon, “Not THAT Parable Again, Again, Again.” Or, perhaps I should have gone with the Prodigal Son this morning.
All of these parables are identified with the kingdom of heaven, the realm of God. The first portrays the extravagant graciousness of that realm. The three following deal with human nature and how persons exclude themselves from the kingdom. This fourth characterizes the insidious way in which our values become depreciated and our commitments distorted. Making a go of it day to day, enmeshed in those pursuits we choose.
The parable draws a line of demarcation between the kingdom and those outside. There is the wedding feast for the prince. And then there are the invited guests for whom other things are more important. Pressured for their RSVP they react, even violently. The king retaliates. Then, others are invited. One of those who comes would appear too arrogant to invest himself in the occasion. To him it’s just a free meal and some entertainment. So out he goes. It sounds a lot like just another day on the planet.
What happened to this story that began, “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son. He sent his slaves to call those who had been invited to the wedding banquet, but they would not come.” (Matthew 22:2-3) A royal wedding promised to be a gala affair. Attending afforded opportunity to be with the best people; to celebrate lavishly. A royal wedding promised the hope of an heir destined for the future. Why wouldn’t you go to a prince’s wedding? Is it that the kingdom of heaven, a celebration of love and joy and peace seems too surreal to be possible or is it that we are just too entangled in the ways of our culture to accept the invitation.
Wedding invitations often express something of the joyousness of the love and relationship to be culminated in the marriage of the bride and groom. John Rutter’s setting of Paul’s word to the Philippians is a kind of prologue to an invitation to the Prince’s wedding.
“The peace of God which passeth all understanding,
Keep your hearts and minds in the knowledge and love of God,
And of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord:
And the blessing of God almighty,
The Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost
Be amongst you and remain with you always. Amen.” (Philippians 4:7)
The peace of God which passes all understanding. Such a banquet entrée.
War passes our understanding, too. War is strategized. Sophisticated weaponry is developed. Life and limb are committed for honor. But the enemies made, thwart the plans; wreak destruction with simple devices; recklessly throw themselves into battle. Across millenniums of history, no one has yet figured how to end a war; how to get out of a war once it has been started. Yet our culture continues it’s preoccupation with it. The risk of peacemaking, the Jesus story makes evident, is that the peacemaker may suffer without inflicting suffering in return. It is not that by warring we may protect ourselves from suffering. No one escapes suffering in war. For two millenniums the story of this one who opted not to inflict suffering affords the alternative. That story offers the haunting hope that if we give up attack and defense we might attend the wedding banquet of the one called Prince of Peace. Would we continue to destroy and suffer and die? Or would we eat and drink and dance in celebration of peace and love?
For the wedding of the son of king of heaven and earth, what more appropriate introduction to the invitation than the words of the New Testament letter bearing the name of John:
“Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love…Beloved, since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another…if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us.(I John 4:7-8, 11-12)
I find the image of a wedding banquet for the prince a rich representation of the realm of God. Weddings, not always and everywhere, but at their best are a splendored celebration of love—love that is, but love that is hardly a glimmer of what it can, what it will become over the years.
In a lesser known duet from one of my favorite shows, “Fiddler on the Roof” Tevye asks Golde:
“Do you love me?
Do I what?
Do you love me?
Do I love him? With our daughters getting married and this trouble in the town, You’re upset, you’re worn out, go inside, go lie down, maybe it’s indigestion.
Golde, I’m asking you a question! Do you love me?
You’re a fool!
I know, but do you love me?
Do I love you? For twenty five years I’ve washed your clothes, cooked your meals, cleaned your house, given you children, milked your cows, after twenty five years why talk about love right now?
Golde, the first time I met you was on our wedding day, I was scared.
I was shy.
I was nervous.
So was I.
But my father and my mother said, We’d learn to love each other. So now I’m asking, Golde, do you love me?
I’m your wife.
But do you love me?
Do I love him? For twenty five years I’ve lived with him, fought with him, starved with him. Twenty five years my bed is his, if that’s not love, what is?
Then you love me?
I suppose I do.
And I suppose I love you too.
(together) It doesn’t change a thing, but even so, after twenty five years, it’s nice to know. (1)
Of all those weddings in which I have shared, for most the traditional chronology--boy meets girl, they court, fall in love, get engaged, married, have children—has been scrambled. Many have had minimal current contact with the church if ever. They would be on the revised wedding guest list for the kingdom. But they would be on the list. So I have RSVP’d “yes” to the wedding invitation in the hope that somewhere, someway there will be the love, the joy that will be a glimpse of God’s presence.
Jesus by his life style and through his parables makes it clear that this kingdom of heaven he heralded was no other worldly matter, but every bit in the reality of life.
He says, “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son.” (Matthew 22:2) Why wouldn’t you go to a prince’s wedding. It promises a glimmer of light that the darkness of bitterness can’t overcome. There will be blossoming joy bringing beauty to life lost its luster. There will be melodies of hope ringing out against despair. There will be commitments of love that will hold us steady through all the tides of life. And when we have celebrated the wedding banquet, and live the life; washed the clothes, cooked the meals, cleaned the house, milked the cows we may find that we love God even as God loves us.
Amen.
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