Scripture

Luke 14:16-24

In this parable, Jesus uses the metaphor of a great party-giver who displays an extraordinary lack of discrimination in those with whom he wants to share himself and his riches.

It's very likely that when this story was re-told among early Christians, it was thought to be about Jews and Gentiles (non-Jews). Those on the guest list who didn't have the good grace to accept were Jews who were unresponsive to the message of Jesus. Because of this unmannerly behaviour, the commission once given to Israel, to be a light to the nations, is taken away and given to someone else. To put it bluntly, Judaism is 'superseded' by Christianity. The 'ring-ins' in the parable are Gentile Christians.

This is a congenial interpretation for many Christians, who like to believe they enjoy a special (if not exclusive) status with God. After all, isn't this what the Bible teaches? Well, here and there it does seem to say just that. And that is what you would expect to find in literature written by Christians for Christians!

But you also find material which doesn't fit so easily with that way of thinking. It's just possible that this parable could be a case in point. However, I'm moving ahead too fast. Allow me to share what has come out of my own reflection on it these past weeks - always remembering what we say about parable: there will be other shades of meaning!

1. Faith and festivity

I suppose the most obvious thing about the parable is the way Jesus links faith and festivity. It could have been linked with asceticism or suffering, with self-denial or self-giving (and sometimes is), but here that is not the case. On the contrary, it's here with people having a wonderful time at a great, rollicking love-in.

It's not some little, el cheapo 'b.y.o.' affair. 'You could bring salad, Fiona. Can you do the mornay, Sue? I'll make a quiche, and the boys can look after the drinks.' It's not a barbie down the street. Nobody has to bring anything, because it's all on the house: a blow-out of immense and staggering extravagance. You see, it's a king's banquet. This parable comes in a body of teaching about the kingdom of God.

And this is the image Jesus chooses to speak about the joys of living faith. There has been plenty of debate about whether the first Christians were ascetics; whether Jesus himself was an ascetic. Some early Christians were very big on asceticism. Perhaps the most celebrated was Simeon Stylites who sat on top of a pole and was said to have dripped with vermin.

But many more of the early Christians were not ascetics. Professor Eric Osborn, formerly with the United Faculty of Theology in Melbourne, brings this out very convincingly in one of his books. As for Jesus himself, I would remind you that one of the angry charges brought against him was that his friends were gluttonous and wine-bibbers - people who enjoyed a good time.

I'm not arguing here for what is called 'prosperity religion', nor implying that we should quit worrying about those less fortunate than we. What I am saying is that it seems more than an accident that Jesus should link faith with festivity. I owe to William Barclay a story that shows even John Wesley had lapses of judgment.

Wesley founded a school at Kingswood, near Bristol. He stipulated that no games were permitted in the school or in the grounds, saying 'He who plays when he is a child will play when he is a man!' There were no holidays. The children rose at 4 a.m. to spend an hour in prayer and meditation. On Fridays they fasted until 3 p.m. Barclay refers to this with some contempt, and says,

It is a most significant thing that Jesus thought of his Kingdom and his service in terms of a feast. The symbol of the Kingdom was the happiest thing that human life can give. Surely this is the final condemnation of Christians who are afraid to enjoy themselves.

(William Barclay, Daily Study Bible: The Gospel of Luke, Edinburgh: The St Andres Press, 1965, p.201.)

2. Substitutes for faith

Second, this parable is about temporal substitutes for faith: finding one's security elsewhere. Remember what happens? Jesus cites three excuses given for declining the invitation. The first person says, 'I've just bought some land; I must go and look it over.' The second says, 'I've just bought five yoke of oxen; I'm on my way to road test them.' And a third says, 'I've just got married.'

What did Jesus intend by these references to land, oxen, and a spouse? In one way or another, they all mean security. Possession of land, be it ever so small, signified divine blessing and a home to call one's own. Ownership of healthy animals gave assurance that a man could successfully farm the land. Having a wife meant one's line would be continued, and he would be cared for in old age. All good things in themselves, but in the parable 'substitutes' for faith.

One of the great cartoon strip artists of our time has to be Charles Schulz, the creator of Peanuts. There can't be too many people who would not recognise Charlie Brown and Snoopy and Schroeder and Lucy ... and Linus. Schulz was a Christian; in fact a Sunday school teacher. He used graphic art and these child characters to help us see ourselves.

Linus drags his grubby old blanket everywhere he goes, obstinately resisting suggestions that he might be able to dispense with it. Even mockery has no effect. As Schulz himself put it;

Linus' affection for his blanket ... is a symbol of the things we cling to ... What I am getting at, of course, is the adult's inadequacy here - the inability to give up habits which really should be given up.

(Charles Schulz, 'Knowing you are not alone' in Decision, Vol. IV (Sept. 1963), p.9)

Do you remember the incident in the gospels concerning a wealthy man who was told by Jesus to sell everything and give away the proceeds? He was unable to do so, prompting Jesus to comment that it was easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a wealthy man to enter the kingdom. I now think most of the sermons I've heard, or preached, on that incident have missed the central point.

We've already said the idea that Jesus urged on all his followers a life of radical asceticism is not very well supported. We know that in the early church some felt called to poverty and others did not. Knowing this can give a different twist to the story of the wealthy man. There's nothing inherently wrong with his being wealthy. The problem is that he has put his trust in wealth; it's his 'Linus blanket'! It's what I have called a 'temporal substitute for faith'. With that penetrating insight he shows again and again, Jesus sees this as a false security - which in the case of this man has to be relinquished before he is to know the true security and blessing of faith.

3. The undiscriminating party-giver

So to the last part, which is really stated in the title we've given this sermon: the undiscriminating party-giver. The party-giver decides to leave alone those who make excuses; if they don't want to come, that's their business. It's not in the nature of the party-giver to compel anyone; they're perfectly at liberty to turn away if that's their preference.

Instead, he sends his servant to invite the poor and crippled and blind and lame. All those down on their luck, the beggars and battlers who scrounge for a living; all the decrepit, the feeble and the senile; all the handicapped and helpless and hopeless; all the weather-beaten and maimed and hobbling ... on sticks, on stretchers and in wheelchairs.

The servant says, 'Okay, I've invited them all, but we still have lots of spare places'. The great party-giver sends the servant out again, to find those who sleep in newspaper under the railway bridges, toothless old bag ladies in their tatty fur coats, those homeless men sharing a flagon of port at the Victoria Market, and some worn out old prostitutes nobody wants any more ... for all of whom the name of God is only a cuss word!

But how do we know they'll appreciate it? We can't have people like this, with no sense of propriety - muddying up the fine carpets, eating the food in their fingers, talking to one another during the speeches. And that's not all. There are likely to be atheists and anti-religious, unbelievers and sceptics, heretics and heathens!

What is the symbolism in all this? I suppose the obvious retort is to say it means God has a special feeling for the marginalised. That's good social justice rhetoric, and it needs to be said. Given many other things Jesus said about such people, and the record of his personal encounters with them, there's no doubt that's part of the intended message.

But could there be more? 'Like what?' you ask. That all those whom the great religions regard as unqualified to eat from the royal table are viewed quite differently by the undiscriminating party-giver. In other words, whether or not they're Orthodox Jews or born-again Christians or Shiite Muslims ... whether or not they pass the tests, is of no account to the great party-giver.

Last week someone gave me a clipping that made me think I should buy the Sunday Age! It was a delicious little story about those ways we decide who in 'in' and who is not - specifically in respect of social occasions. In 1983 a warship called into Sydney. Some of the society ladies arranged a ball, but they made it clear that only officers were to be invited - and gentiles to boot. No Jewish officers were to be invited. The warship's personnel officer did exactly as required. A contingent of ship's officers duly arrived at the ball. They were all gentiles. And they were all black! The personnel officer's name, I should add, was 'Goldberg'!

It seems to me to be perfectly right and proper

for Christians to stipulate you have to believe in Jesus Christ as disclosure of God if you're going to be Christian;
for Muslims to stipulate you have to believe in Qur'an as the Word of God if you're going to be Muslim;
for Buddhists to stipulate you have to believe in the Four Noble Truths and the Middle Way if you're going to be Buddhist.

It seems to be entirely proper for Christians or Muslims or Buddhists to lay down requirements for those would-be members of those communities. It strikes me as something else again for these or any other to say, 'And we are the Department of Heavenly Immigration, whose role it is to decide who may eat at the royal table!'

If there is a sting in the tail of this parable, it may just be a rebuke to those who take it on themselves to decide who is 'in' with God and who is not. With this undiscriminating party-giver, it looks uncomfortably like our ways of assessing and classifying and judging one another may count for very little!

Reproduced here on the Warragul Uniting Church web site with the permission of the author,
Rev Dr John Bodycomb -2004.