Jesus
likens the kingdom of heaven to a wedding feast (Matt 22:1-14). But, for a
wedding story, his parable has a lot of murder and violence. Some of the guests
invited to the wedding feast simply make light of it and – excusing themselves by
this or that trifle – do not come. Others, however, seize and kill the servants
whom the king sent bearing the glad news and invitation. In response, the king
sends in his troops and kills not only those insensate murderers, but also
their entire city.
Having no guests left and finding his first-invited
guests unworthy, the king invites a multitude in from the streets. This is
where we come in, I expect. But the violence does not end here – for both the
good and the bad now sit together at the feast – and the king makes sure the
bad do not go unpunished.
He sees among the guests a man who has no wedding
garment and asks him how he got in so inappropriately dressed. If the man were
guiltless, surely he would defend himself – protesting that he was invited by
the king’s servants or that he was too poor to afford such finery. But the man
says nothing. It would seem, then, that he has no excuse. So the king has him
bound hand and foot and cast into the outer darkness where there is weeping and
gnashing of teeth.
What is the meaning of all this violence? What kind
of party is this? What party comes with such stakes? This is rather like
getting a wedding invitation – but in fine print at the bottom is written,
“Celebrate or die.” It becomes rather clear that we are not talking here about
the usual kind of wedding party. We might not want to be invited to a wedding
like this – it sounds rather dangerous – but, like it or not, we are invited.
It is a free invitation to celebrate, but it’s an
invitation we’d better accept. It’s an invitation with teeth. It is an occasion
of great joy, but it is deadly serious. Those unwilling to partake joyfully
will have hell to pay. Because this
wedding feast, as Jesus says at the outset, is like the kingdom of heaven. The
wedding clothes we are to wear to this
feast are those we put on at baptism. That is, they are like Christ himself,
for, at baptism, we are clothed with Christ (Gal 3:27). To be thrown out
of this wedding hall is to be thrown out the gates of heaven.
But this party isn’t just exactly like heaven either. For one thing, it’s a party to which both the good and the bad have come. I’ve been to a few parties like that.
In fact, every Divine Liturgy is a party like that,
if you think about it. Our Eucharistic celebration is like a party to which
both the good and the bad alike are invited. The sinners and the saints sit
together in the pews. For that matter, they’re usually sitting together in the
same seat. If you’re wondering whether you’re a sinner or a saint, remember
that you can be both. This struggle between the good and the bad happens mostly
on the inside.
Jesus’ parable reminds me of a passage in C.S.
Lewis’ novel The Screwtape Letters, which I highly recommend. It’s framed as a series
of letters from a senior demon – Screwtape – to a junior demon – his nephew
Wormwood – with advice on the best way to tempt a soul to keep him out of
heaven and secure his place in hell. The demons sardonically call their victims
“patients.”
Well, Wormwood gets in trouble one day when his
“patient” converts to Christianity. Screwtape is mightily displeased. But, he
assures his nephew, their hope of damning the poor soul to hell is not lost.
“One of our great allies at present,” says Screwtape, “is the Church itself.”
You see, Screwtape is well aware of what Jesus is
saying in today’s gospel: both good and bad guests fill the wedding hall – and
the devils can use the bad ones to help corrupt the good. The Church in this
world is a mixed bag.
Screwtape points out that the new Christian will
get to his pew, look around him and see just those neighbors “whom he has
hitherto avoided.” You’ll want to “lean pretty heavily on those neighbors,” he
advises Wormwood “It matters very little, of course, what kind of people that
next pew really contains,” writes Screwtape. “Provided that any of those
neighbors sing out of tune, or have boots that squeak, or double chins, or odd
clothes, the patient will quite easily believe that their religion must
therefore be somehow ridiculous.… Never let him ask what he expected them to
look like….”
It may be, of course, that “the people in the next
pew” are actually good and holy people. Of course if they’re not, writes
Screwtape “– if the patient knows that the woman with the absurd hat is a
fanatical bridge player or the man with squeaky boots is a miser and an
extortioner – then your task is so much the easier.”
You see, the demons will use our sins not only to
drag us down but also to drag others down with us, if they can. Our neighbors
see our sins and our hypocrisy and it sometimes convinces them that the church
itself is hypocritical and ridiculous. Of course, I’m reminded of that old
retort to the common complaint that there are too many hypocrites in church:
“Don’t worry, there’s always room for one more.”
So, do not judge others. Look to your own sins.
That’s the point. All are invited and welcome to
the feast, regardless of their sinfulness. But those who accept the invitation
have a serious duty. This love feast is not a free-for-all, come-one, come-all,
do-as-you-please, orgiastic bacchanalia. This is a wedding feast – a
celebration of commitment, fidelity, fruitfulness, life, and love. A wedding is
where two become one, and at this wedding, we the Church become one with Christ
our Lord. Those unprepared to celebrate these things – those
without a wedding garment – cannot remain in the kingdom of heaven. We are now
before the gates of the kingdom of heaven and our king is inviting us in. His
invitation is this: Repent, and know the joy only Christ can bring.
Holy Gate (Royal Doors),
16th century,
Arkhangelsk Regional Museum of Fine Arts |
2 comments:
This is a most edifying meditation. Thank you!
I have been informed more than once that at such a wedding feast the host PROVIDED the wedding garment. The implication, then, is that the guest refused it. This would translate into a refusal of grace, would it not, which makes perfect sense of the whole thing.
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