Life on God’s Terms, Part 1: King of Kings

I want to share one of my favorite stories about the life of the Episcopal Church, a church that has traditionally welcomed, as the Prayer Book says, “all sorts and conditions,” regardless of age, race, economic status or education. If you’re in the neighborhood and you live near an Episcopal church, you are welcome. To me, that’s actually the Episcopal Church at its best.

 

The King’s Values

Long ago, a boy and his family had come as immigrants to this country. They came with only the clothes on their backs to the New York area. The church took them in, and they wound up living in the very large rectory with the priest and his family.

So this immigrant family now had a place to live, but they still had very little in the way of material things. As the boy, now grown, tells the story, he didn’t have enough money to get good shoes. Every Sunday morning, he was ashamed because he had holes in his shoes, and so, his greatest desire was to be an acolyte. That way, the robe would cover the tops of his shoes, so he could participate in the procession, and no one would notice his shoes.

There’s a reason that man became a priest. He “got” the gospel in a very personal way. Have you wondered why it is that when we gather, those who lead the worship wear vestments? It’s really for two important reasons: One, to call us as leaders to take a back seat, to remind us, “You’re here to fulfill an office, a very specific and particular responsibility,” not to call attention to ourselves, but to serve together and live together. Whether you’re in your Sunday best or whether you’re like that boy who has holes in his shoes, you’re just as important as anybody else. You’re included, because what matters is Jesus, not your socio-economic status.

And two, the vestments mean you acknowledge something important about who’s in charge. The standards we set for behavior and for life together come from Jesus, not from the society around us. When you wear the robes, you’re declaring that what’s important is who you are, not how much money you make. And that puts us right into a pretty frightening story: the parable of the wedding banquet in Luke 14.

 

The King’s Banquet

You need to understand: Kings in that era were just like the supreme leader of North Korea. People were terrified of them. They always did precisely what the king said, upon pain of death. There was no negotiation. So no one was shocked when the story said the king sent out a banquet invitation and people refused, they were killed. Being invited to the king’s house and not showing up was not just an inconvenience but an act of treason.

But as the story continues, the king does something very unusual. He says, “I want everybody to come to this banquet. I don’t care who you are. Go out into the highways and byways, and invite the rich and the poor—anybody who can come. I want this, I’ve made all this food, I want my banquet to be completely full of people” (see Luke 14:7-14).

 

And that’s of course exactly what happens. Now, you should know that when people were invited to an event like this, they were given something special to wear, what Scripture calls “the wedding garment.” There was no rich section over here, and the poor section over there. Everybody was included. Everyone had the special garment.

 

The King’s Standards

And so you can imagine how stunned the king is when, after all the guest are assembled, he makes his entrance into the hall. Everybody, of course, stands in attention. They’re quiet, and he’s looking over this great sea of guests. And one man stands out in particular, because he’s not dressed in the way he could have been.

And notice what the king does. He doesn’t assume anything bad. Maybe his people failed to give the man the garment. But when he asks, “Friend, why don’t you have on the wedding garment?” and the man is speechless, he knows something is going on. This man chose to stride into the king’s banquet hall, refusing to wear what the king asked, what the king provided. This action is self-centered and does not honor either the king or his guests.

So what does the king say? “Take this man and bind him up and throw him out.” The Gospel of Matthew contains an apocalyptic, end-times version of this story that says, “Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ For many are called, but few are chosen” (Matt. 22:13-14).

What’s the implication? God invites all people, no matter who they are. Our worldly accomplishments are of secondary importance to the King of all kings and the Lord of all lords. Family background, education, financial stability–all those things that are extraordinarily important to us—are not part of his standards.

What this story shows us is that we, in essence, come into the banquet hall on the King’s terms, not ours. And to come into the banquet hall insisting on our terms rather than the King’s is actually an act of treason. It’s sedition; there’s no kind way to put it. We’ll examine this more in the next post.

 

How does your life display Jesus as the King of kings? Share this blog and your response on Twitter. Please include my username, @revgregbrewer.

 

(This post is an adaption of Bishop Brewer’s sermon on October 15, 2017, at St. Mark’s Episcopal Church, Haines City, Florida.)

Unless otherwise noted, Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.