Matthew 22.1-14

I’ve heard it said (and I don’t have any research to back this up) that Christians on average are more overweight than their non-religious peers.  That is due, I’m told, to the fact that Christians “fellowship” over food constantly.  Now, don’t get offended; if this is true, rest assured, I’m leading the charge.  But think about it: Christians do eat together all the time.  Men’s breakfasts, potluck dinners, church staff lunch meetings…

Why is that?  Even in the non-Christian world, lunch is a common business meeting.  Why?  Well, practically speaking, having a meal in front of you just makes it less awkward, doesn’t it?  If the conversation fizzles out, if there is one of those awkward silences, you have your meal!

Plus, eating in front of someone is kind of an intimate thing.  Eating is something you do with family, something you do with someone you like, something you do with someone you accept and who accepts you.  You don’t eat with just anyone, do you?  You don’t plop down next to the other guy at McDonald’s (probably the only other guy at McDonald’s) and eat together.  That would be really uncomfortable!  That’s why it’s so nerve wracking for guys to ask girls out—if she goes to a meal with him, that means, on some level at least, that she like him, that she accepts him.

Basically, it boils down to this: unless you’re invited you don’t eat with someone, and unless you invite them you don’t really want someone eating with you.  You don’t show up to a birthday party you weren’t invited to, and you don’t really want someone coming to your birthday party that you didn’t invite.  Right?

God invited Israel to come eat with him.  They got invitations, they got announcements, they might even have gotten one of those refrigerator magnets in the mail so they wouldn’t forget.  They had reminders all over the house.  They were invited.

But even though they had all those reminders, even though they had their invitation, they kept planning other things.  They kept filling up their calendars with other stuff.

Anticipation is the best part of Christmas, right?  It’s one of the best parts of God’s wedding banquet, too.  And God, just like our parents when we were little, was anxious to see how Israel anticipated the banquet.  He wanted to hear how excited they were, he wanted to see them try to imagine what it would be like.

It’s like when children want to play house—to pretend they’re the parent, they have pets and kids and jobs, they’re all grown up.  God was anxious to see Israel start playing house—pretending like it was time for the banquet.  He was watching to see excitement spill over into anticipation and anticipation spill over into…well, almost reality.

And like a good parent who watches leading up to Christmas or who watches the kids play house, just doing their best to capture what it will be like when it’s finally here, God watched Israel to see just how excited he made them with his invitation.  He watched to see what they would do to try to anticipate what they were so excited for.

But it never happened.

So God sent people to remind Israel just how good it was going to be.  He sent people to remind them of things like free food, water that would completely quench thirst and never run out.  Things like swords being used for anything other than their intended purpose.  Things like lambs who didn’t have to run away from lions anymore.  Things like people from all over the world getting invited, too.

But the strangest thing happened: Israel ignored the reminders.  They were tired of the messages, tired of being told over and over again.  Sometimes they even killed those messengers.

Then God decided to show Israel what he had meant all along, to show them what anticipation was supposed to look like.

And Jesus made it so real, he made it seem like it was time for the banquet.  He made it seem like all those promises were actually true already.  He lived in such anticipation of the banquet that you could hardly tell by talking to him that it wasn’t happening right then.  He was even so excited about it that he invited everyone to come.  Everyone he met got an invitation, and he said that the banquet was going to be a lot like what he was already doing.  He showed previews of the coming attraction, glimpses into what it would be like.  Things like free food, water that would completely quench thirst and never run out.  Things like swords being used for anything other than their intended purpose.  Things like lambs who didn’t have to run away from lions anymore.

That’s what anticipation means.

God is still inviting people.  In fact, it turns out those first invitations were so valuable that the people who got them just held onto them.  They didn’t want word to get out.  But that’s not how it was supposed to be.  This party is big.  This party is for anyone who will come, for anyone who will get excited enough to anticipate it.

God wants to eat with you.  He accepts you.  He invites you.

But look at Matthew 22:11-14:

“But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing wedding clothes. ¹² He asked, ‘How did you get in here without wedding clothes, friend?’ The man was speechless.

¹³ “Then the king told the attendants, ‘Tie him hand and foot, and throw him outside, into the darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’”

Well that doesn’t seem fair!  God threw open the invitation to everyone—people on the street, the poor, the helpless, the unprepared…  How can he expect them to wear the right clothes?

Well, it’s his party.

Ben Cross