Sermon preached by The Reverend Dr. Harold T. Lewis

SERMON PREACHED BY THE REVEREND DR. HAROLD T. LEWIS, RECTOR CALVARY EPISCOPAL CHURCH, PITTSBURGH, PENNSYLVANIA ON THE TWENTY-FIRST SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST 9 OCTOBER 2005


"How did you get in here without a wedding garment?" (Matthew 22:12)


On an Easter morning several years ago, I ribbed our former curate, Colin Williams, when he appeared in the sacristy in a seersucker suit. In a mini-lecture on sartorial correctness, I expounded on the time-honored tradition that such suits, along with straw hats and white shoes, do not make their appearance until Memorial Day. (I later learned that in the South, whence Colin hailed, where hot weather starts a little earlier, that rule is relaxed somewhat.) Earlier this week, at a black-tie dinner, one of our number apologized for the fact that he was clad in a blazer, and explained that the cleaners had delivered someone else's tuxedo, an error he didn't discover until he went to put it on. Once Claudette and I were invited to a cocktail party on a yacht, the invitation to which read "Nautical chic." Nothing in our closets seemed to fit that description, so we regretfully declined. The attention given to what we put on our backs is almost frightening. There is a cottage industry churning out books on "dressing for success." Esquire Magazine has a column every month which answers earth-shattering questions about the correct length of (cuffed or uncuffed) trouser legs, whether the slits in your cummerbund should face up or down (up, for the record) and whether you can wear a button-down shirt with a double-breasted suit (absolutely not!)

The parable in today's Gospel has to do with appropriate dress. In it, the king is giving a wedding banquet for his son and he sends out invitations. The "A-List" invitees all had an excuse, so the king sends his servants to invite the "B-List" folk. When even those ingrates make excuses and refuse to come, some even rebelling violently, the king sends emissaries out into the streets to invite anyone they met. We're talking the hoi-polloi, the riff-raff, all and sundry, all sorts and conditions of men and women, those whom the king would normally have nothing to do with. Now these guys don't get to play the palace too often, were probably hungry, and besides probably had nothing else to do. So the banquet hall quickly filled up. So far, so good. But then there is a kind of Hitchcockian twist to the story. The king comes in and spots one man who was not dressed properly for the occasion. When the king confronts this man about his dress, the man sits quietly and doesn't even say anything in his defense. The king then has him bound hand and foot and thrown out of the banquet into "outer darkness"! What is wrong with this picture? The sentence seems unusually harsh for what appears to be a minor transgression --- and, lest we forget, the poor guy was summoned from the street, with no opportunity to go home to change into something more suitable. Obviously Jesus had never been to a production of Gilbert and Sullivan's Mikado and heard the song "Let the punishment fit the crime."

But we must remember that this is a parable, in which reasonableness and plausibility give way to theological truth. Biblical experts that we are, we know that Jesus is really talking about salvation history. The king (God) has a wedding feast (read "messianic banquet") for his son (Jesus). The ungrateful invitees are the house of Israel, and the slaves who are killed, are, as in an earlier parable, the prophets who were rejected. And just as in that parable, the owner of the vineyard kills the tenants and lets it out to others who will produce fruit, so in today's parable the king burns the cities of the ones who refused the invitation to the banquet and then replaces them with other guests. These guests, despite their being outside the fold, and being among those who are the least, the lost, and the last, will get into heaven before the scribes and Pharisees.

Now some commentaries, in an attempt to make sense of out this parable, explain that in Jesus' day, when you went to a wedding reception, the king's servants, at the door, ran a kind of "rent-a-robe" concession, to supply you with the correct garment for the occasion. Such commentaries add, accordingly, that the real transgression is that the man was so indifferent to the king's hospitality that he neglected to put on the provided robe. But this is a little far-fetched. What is more likely is that the wedding garment is allegorical. It stands for something. It stands for righteousness; it stands for repentance. What Jesus is trying to tell us is that those who find themselves unexpectedly invited at the Master's table should not take the invitation for granted; we should not presume on God's grace. We may well have been included despite our shortcomings, but we must do more than just show up! This story, then, is not really about the fate of the bad outsiders; it is an instruction and a warning to insiders!
God has invited us to a banquet -- a banquet which is the fullness of life in God's presence. God has provided us with a wedding garment, God's grace. It is all we need for participation in the banquet. But there are some who scorn the garment, saying, "I'll do it myself. I will work and labor and sweat to remove my sin; to make myself worthy. I don't need the garment of grace." Their favorite hymn could possibly be "Amazing Grace how sweet the sound that saved all the wretches like you all." I call this the Gospel according to William Ernest Henley, the man who wrote "Invictus," the poem so many of us had to remember in school, with those majestic lines: "I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul." Great poetry; lousy theology!

God invites everyone into the redeeming love of Christ. It doesn't matter what kind of person you are. The invitation is, "Whosoever will, let them come." The invitation is to all - "all who labor and are heavy laden." Christ sees us as we are. Christ invites us as we are. We can only come as we are, but we must be willing to change. We must be willing to put on new clothes.

All through the New Testament people were changed after they came to Christ. Paul stopped persecuting; Peter quit boasting. Nicodemus became less legalistic and more open to the spirit. The woman at the well left her shame and her bucket behind and became one of the first evangelists. They all were transformed by the love of God. We can come to God as we are, -- we can only come as we are, bringing our selves, our souls and bodies to be a reasonable, holy and living sacrifice, trusting in God's grace -- but we cannot stay as we are. We pray that each of us might be able to wear the wedding garment of grace and be open to such change as may be necessary to live out our lives according to our Lord's gracious will and not ours.

Now if we think about judgment (if we ever do) we normally think of individuals standing at the Pearly Gates where Peter, enormous quill in hand, is poring over the Book of Life, deciding, on the basis of our track record, whether to inscribe our names or not. But are institutions judged as well? Will some branches of Anglicanism be judged for moving to precipitously? Will other branches of the church be judged for their very judgmentalism, declaring others to be outside the fold because of their actions or beliefs?

And will nations be judged for their bellicose behavior and their self-righteousness? I am not a lawyer, not a jurist, no expert on the history of American jurisprudence, so I can offer no informed opinion on the merits of the most recent Supreme Court nominee. But as a theologian, let me say what troubles me. While I would have hoped that after being born again and leaving the Roman Catholic Church of her upbringing, she would not have found re-baptism necessary, what is especially irksome is the suggestion that the candidate's conversion necessitated a migration from one political party to another. I am not making this up. May I cite the Gospel according to The New York Times? "Ms. Miers, born Roman Catholic, became an evangelical Christian and began identifying more with Republicans than with the Democrats who had long held sway over Texas politics. She joined the missions committee of her church, which is against legalized abortion, and friends and colleagues say she rarely looked back at her past as a Democrat." What is wrong with this picture? Shouldn't all Americans, regardless of political persuasion, be outraged that the message is being continually sent that one party, and not the other, has the corner on the market of religion?

My sisters and brothers in Christ, all of us, individuals, governments, religious institutions, must seriously consider getting fitted for a wedding garment of grace, repentance and humility; otherwise, we run the risk that we may one day keep company with the misguided guest who turned up at the reception but instead got a one-way ticket from the banquet hall to the realms of outer darkness.

Let us pray: O God of earth and altar, bow down and hear our cry, Our earthly rulers falter, our people drift and die; The walls of gold entomb us, the swords of scorn divide, Take not thy thunder from us, but take away our pride.
From all that terror teaches, from lies of tongue and pen, From all the easy speeches that comfort cruel men, From sale and profanation of honor and the sword, From sleep and from damnation, deliver us, good Lord! (Hymnal 1982, 591) AMEN.