Called and Chosen Wedding Guests
Called and Chosen Wedding Guests
Text: Matt. 22:1-14
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Royal weddings are a big deal. For those who remember, there were countless people on this side of the Atlantic who woke up in the middle of the night to watch the latest British royal wedding live on TV. Maybe you were one of them. The ceremony, the buildings, the preeminent people in attendance, the clothes—all of it made it a feast for the senses. If that was your cup of tea, it was not an event to be missed.
In the parable Jesus presents us today, we have a king who is going to throw the wedding celebration of the century in honor of his son, the heir of the kingdom. The finest foods are prepared, special for this event; the guest list carefully drawn up; no expense spared. When the big day drew near, the king sent servants to the invited guests to call them, but in a shocking turn of events, they would not come. So he sent other servants to coax them, “See, I have prepared my dinner, my oxen and my fat calves have been slaughtered. Dinner is cooking as we speak. Everything is ready. Come to the royal wedding feast.” But they paid no attention and scattered. One went off to his farm, another to his business, while the rest did the unthinkable and seized the messengers, treating them shamefully and even killing them. To kill a messenger in this time was to send a message of one’s own: they would kill the one who sent the messengers if they only had the chance. So the king was angry and sent his troops to destroy those murderers and burned their city.
Jesus told this parable in a sequence of lessons in which He was exposing the hearts of the chief priests, scribes, and Pharisees. It’s not too difficult to see Israel’s own scandalous history woven into this parable. Like the invited guests, they had been called through the promises given to their ancestor Abraham, through the Exodus out of slavery in Egypt, through the giving of the covenant at Mount Sinai. And what was their reaction? Complaint, ingratitude at being called to be a unique people. They despised the feast of manna miraculously provided for them every morning. When they were given the glory of the tabernacle and the temple later on, they went away, one to the shrine of Baal on the hills, another to the shrine of Molech in the valleys. The rest seized the prophets who had been sent to invite Israel back to the Lord’s goodness and they treated them shamefully and killed them. So the Lord was angry and sent the Assyrians, and then the Babylonians, and then the Greeks, and then the Romans to show Israel that the gods and goddesses they were chasing could not save them at all.
And then, in the parable, and in the timeline of God’s people, it became clear: The wedding feast was ready, but those invited were not worthy. So the messengers were instructed to go to the main roads and to invite as many as they could to the wedding feast, the highways and byways, every corner of the earth. And so the prophets and apostles and evangelists and missionaries did just that. So the wedding hall was filled with guests, the Lord’s house was filled with worshipers; some from the original guest list of ancient Israel, who had come to see and know the Bridegroom Jesus when He appeared, and others who had not been on the list before, but now were wholeheartedly welcomed to the wedding feast.
As it so often goes with these particular parables told shortly before Jesus’ crucifixion, if the story stopped here, it would be a happy ending. The wedding hall filled with guests, the Church filled with people from every tribe and nation and tongue. But the parable goes on. When the king came in to see all the gathered guests, he noticed a man who had no wedding garment. He had been invited to the royal wedding and he decided to not even change out of his everyday clothes, to treat it as if he were just out working in the field or walking down the dusty roads. He thought so little of this event, of the wedding of the son; so little of the king himself that he couldn’t be bothered to have a single thing about his day changed. And so the king asked him, “Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding garment? Are you a crasher? Or did you just think so little of this that you refused to change into something appropriate?” And the guest was speechless. There was no excuse for this dishonor. So the king said to his attendants, “Bind him hand and foot and cast him into the outer darkness. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” Then Jesus plainly gives the lesson from the parable: “For many are called, but few are chosen.”
This continuation of the parable is a lesson for those who have been called to receive the Lord’s promises after the original recipients rejected it—and it’s the same lesson that was meant for the original recipients too. The nations to whom the Lord sends messengers after His Old Testament people Israel had repeatedly walked away from Him and His invitation—those who have been called to faith now, including us—these new guests are not to show the same kind of disregard and dishonor to the King, or His Son, or the invitation to the wedding feast that the others showed. Yes, they might have actually come to the feast, but the dishonor could still hide in their hearts. How many people wear the name Christian, but are indistinguishable from unbelievers? How many say that they worship the Lord, but only when it’s convenient or easy or costs nothing? How many are willing to have even the smallest part of their life changed because they’ve been called to something great and wonderful? This refusal can take all sorts of forms: the cult of busyness that our society is obsessed with, thinking that worth is somehow tied up with being busy nonstop. Or it’s money, or leisure, or convenience, or whatever. They’re all excuses. Like the guest without a wedding garment, who’s physically present but still dishonoring the king, how easy is it to be present but just go through the motions, to not have the Word find its place in our minds and hearts. How often do we resist repentance, refusing to change into a spiritual wedding garment, insisting that our old rags are good enough, that there’s no reason to change, that I don’t have to admit that this was wrong, that it’s someone else’s fault, that this look is perfectly fine. How often do we resist forgiveness, refusing to change our garments of sorrow and sackcloth into a glorious shining robe, thinking that God couldn’t forgive me for that, that He could never accept me, that I can’t be saved or forgiven, and thus fall into despair.
Many are called, but few are chosen. That line could cut us deep with doubt and worry that maybe we’re the ones who have been called, but not chosen; that we’re the ones destined for the outer darkness. And that can be a useful word of warning for us. But the King still sends messengers, and He has a message for you: You are called, and you are chosen. You know this because you have been called by the Word. You’ve heard it today. You’ve had faith kindled and enlightened. You’ve heard the invitation of Jesus and you’re here, listening to His voice. And you’ve been chosen. If you pay attention, you can hear it, spoken directly to you: “I baptize you in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” There, at the baptismal font, chosen. “Take, eat; take, drink; this is the body and blood of Jesus given for you.” There at the Communion rail, chosen, with the words “for you.” The messenger servant of the King has declared to you, “I forgive you all your sins.” Chosen, forgiven, directly. God does not want to keep you in suspense when it comes to your eternal destination, so He gives these moments in time when He chooses you, when He gives you grace, when He invites you and opens the door and ushers you into the wedding hall. You are called and you are chosen. Now come to the wedding feast of the Lamb in His kingdom, which has no end. In the name of Jesus, who has chosen you. Amen.
