Have you ever made out a guest list for a big important and personal event? Something important like your own wedding? Now, imagine if you just bagged the list, flung wide the doors and invited everyone—absolutely everyone.
The parable of the wedding feast was told by Jesus in answer to those who asked: what is this kindom of heaven like? Kindom sounds silly, right? Where is THE KING? What ruler would throw a huge banquet to honor the family heir, send invitations to those on the guest list, then be astonished when the entire guest list declines— too busy with their own enterprises, and some even murdering the ruler’s emissaries?
This ruler became furious, ordered his military to burn the murderers and destroy towns and businesses, then went out to invite everyone and anyone, good and bad, credentialed and not, to the feast. The new guests all ran on it and celebrated mightily. Well, except for one poor soul who had no proper wedding garments so was kicked out by rough bouncers and removed from that guest list forever.
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When I read this story, I felt my mood soar and plummet immediately. Of course it’s only a metaphor, but . . . a godly guest list?
THE DIVINE REALM SHOULD BE TRULY INVITATIONAL WITHOUT COST, YES?
* * * *
Once I was ordained and serving in a parish I started a gospel drama group. Acting out stories would be fun and educational I thought. Better than a one-preacher sermon from a solo pulpit. I invited anyone interested to join. We gathered. I suggested that we try an impromptu and improvisational version of Jesus’s ancient wedding feast parable. We used the altar area as our stage. I read the story, and told them to begin the drama. Everyone started to talk at once. Some thought they didn’t deserve to be invited. Others claimed they had been invited because they were best friends of the family. Still others hung back uncertain. One woman, trying to play Jesus’s mother, Mary, shouted: “Son, this isn’t working!” We all suddenly burst out laughing and crying at once. We had created chaos.
* * * *
This drama group certainly was a failed idea, I thought. Right?
THIS IS THE REIGN OF HEAVEN-ON-EARTH. IT’S OPEN TO ALL, RIGHT?
* * * *
Why in the world would God with whom I’d had lively one-sided conversations since I was a small child kick me out, kick anyone out? If this God is CREATOR, then that word itself automatically means to do something new, to challenge traditional ways, to respect the vast array of offerings and opportunities and not insist on or rigidify just one single way.
* * * *
My drama group kept going. We sized down by choice not by rejection. I acted as a director, figuring that a great orchestra needs its conductor to make good music together. We read biblical stories and shared thoughts and feelings not “answers.” By Easter we were ready for the Vigil. A group of six or seven women came into a darkened church in single file and solemn. They slowly walked up into the altar area, which became, well, an empty tomb. One shroud-like blanket was lying on the floor. The group gathered in silence. Some knelt, some stood, some close, some with a bit of distance. Very slowly the women began each to say something as slowly the lights were coming up—dawn. There was no script. One woman who did not believe in God, stayed silent except quietly to say something like, I just don’t get it? When the lights were fully on, the drama finished and the women all walked slowly away from the empty tomb and out of the church using the side entrance. The watching congregation stayed silent. One woman snuck back into the church, snatched the “shroud” and left again. As she was leaving she turned back three time to say, “But what does it mean?”
