It is a sad sight. You can see it, can't you? The table groaning under the load of the food. Baked fowl, roasted beef, fruits and breads, sweet meats and fresh vegetables, rack of lamb, sauces for dipping and wine for pouring, and all of it prepared lovingly and lavishly. Candles lighted. Places set. Guests summoned. And the Host, waiting.
And waiting. And waiting. The servants getting a little antsy. The dishes growing cold. The candles burning lower. A great supper all made ready. The guests had only to come in and eat and enjoy. But they don't come. The look of perplexity and confusion on the face of the host. Then the excuses.
"I have bought a field and must go inspect it. Pray, have me excused." "I have bought five yoke of oxen and must go check them out. Pray, have me excused." "I have married a wife, and so I cannot attend."
See the face of the host. His perplexity fades and a look of anger takes its place. His bountiful feast has been spurned. So be it. he sends out the servants to call others - those with whom he had no prior relation. He summons them to the meal. And when there is still room, when the house is not yet full, he sends out the servants one more time to scour the highways and byways and urge the people to come in and feast with him, so that his house will be filled.
With such a story Jesus Christ lays bear to us the way of the Gospel. He teaches us what the Gospel is, how the Gospel is received, and challenges each of us to look long and hard at our own lives.
So what is the Gospel? Nothing less than this, my friends, the news that a feast has been prepared for you. Not a measly little meal, mind you, but a veritable feast. Our first reading spoke of the nature of this feast. You see, feasts aren't just held for no reason. You usually have something that you are celebrating. And this feast has as its occasion, as its reason, the celebration of death's destruction. "Come, eat of my bread and drink of the wine I have mixed. Leave your simple ways, and live!" Behold, the reason for this feast. Death has been destroyed. It's power forever vanquished. And life is offered you instead.
Now, don't mistake me. Death is still around. It is as awful and ugly and hateful as ever. But it is not the final word. Christ came into this world to destroy it by enduring it. Christ came to explode it from the inside out and make it what it never was before. He filled death itself with His own presence, His own life. On Calvary death took Him, and swallowed Him down like a tasty morsel, but on Easter Jesus was doing the eating, swallowing down death forever. Changing it so that for all who die in faith in Him, death is harmless, for their sins have been forgiven. For them, death is but a little sleep, and then comes the awakening to the celebration that never ends - and we get the foretaste of the feast to come even now.
So the Gospel is news that God has invited us to share in his celebration over death's destruction - a celebration that will last forever. And since death is where we are all headed, it gives each of us a rather personal reason to be glad. It's not as though God had a problem with death. We are the ones with the problem, we are the ones who are dying. But His love for us it so great that He was not content to sit by and watch us all spend eternity separated from Him, from His life, from His laughter, from His joy. And so Christ came to slay death on our behalf and to open up to us the way of everlasting life. Christ came to prepare the feast. And He did it all.
When someone asks you to dinner, it is usually deemed polite to ask what you can bring. But when God invites you to his great supper, he tells you up front that there is nothing you can bring but yourself. he says: "Come, for all things are now ready." It is part and parcel of the Gospel invitation to make it clear that there is nothing you need do, except sit down and let yourself be served by God. he wants to give you the joys of eternal life. He wants to serve you by taking away your sin, by bearing your burdens, by wiping your tears and giving you eternal joy. All he asks is that you permit him to do so - and He grateful when you accept. (St. John Chrysostom)
That is the very heart of the Gospel itself. But how does such a kind invitation fare? It gets excuses. Many and varied but with a certain sameness about them. At rock bottom the message back is: "Thanks, but no thanks. I've got better things to do with my time." And so far too often when the Gospel invitation rings out for people to come and let themselves be served by God and receive his eternal joys, the invitation goes unheeded.
How utterly sad. To spend a life-time running after the things we are all bound to lose, while God stands by and beckons to come and freely take the gifts by which we can live forever. To place top value on what is so manifestly passing away, while ignoring or taking for granted that which lasts forever.
There is a solemn warning in the text when the invitation moves on. Those originally invited do not have an open invitation for all time. The day of grace passes on for individuals and peoples. And the giver of the feast solemnly utters: "For I say that none of those men who were invited shall taste my supper." It is a dangerous thing to trifle with the Gospel invitation and to imagine that there will always be time later. Sometimes later is simply too late.
And so how is it with each of us? We know that a feast has been prepared for us in honor of death's destruction. We know that our Savior has done all the work for us on our behalf and that we have only to receive what He gives. We know that He calls to us every day to come and taste of His bounty in Word and Sacrament. Do we give him excuses? "Lord, I'd love to read your Word today but I don't have time." "Lord, you know I want to go to your Supper but Sunday is such a bad day for us to do church; it's the only time we have to do the things we like to do, you know?" Lord, I know that I need to turn from that sin, and follow you with my heart, and I will, but just not now. Okay?"
The table is laden. The candles are burning low. What will it be? Will we still try our excuses or will we recognize how silly we would be to forgo this feast? Will we turn and take our places and look at the love on his face as He serves us up so richly the salvation he has prepared for us? Will we feast at his table with him and the rise to run into the streets, the highways and the byways and shout to everyone we meet: "O taste and see that the Lord is good! Blessed is everyone who puts their trust in him!"?
"The Spirit and the Bride cry come!
And let the one who hears say "Come!"
And let the one who is thirsty come;
Let the one who desires take of the water of life without price.
Amen
