In the name of God ☩ Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
What’s wrong in Salisbury? What’s wrong with politics? What’s wrong with education, or healthcare, or the church? There is no shortage of articles and opinions out there on those questions. It’s easy to come up with a list of all the problems in the world. I won’t list any examples, but I’m sure you all could help me in coming up with a pretty comprehensive list. Whether it’s casual conversation with friends, the news, or even sermons – so often we talk about all the things that are wrong.
It’s more than simple pessimism, even optimists fall into this trap. They might have a positive outlook on these problems, but they still see the problems everywhere. We might try to put this focus on problems in a positive light by asking questions like “What can we be doing better?” And that’s a fair question, as there is always room to improve. But I wonder if always focusing on what is lacking, on what is wrong, on what is a problem is slowly eroding our ability to be joyful or to be grateful.
Instead of asking “What’s wrong,” what would happen if we asked “What’s right”? Towards the end of his letter to the church in Philippi, St. Paul writes “Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.” We know from social science that our environment, including our mental environment, deeply affects our emotions, worldview, and actions. Studies show that children who watch violent cartoons are more likely to act violently immediately after viewing them. And from experience, we all know that being around people who are stressed out makes us stress, just as being around someone who is joyful helps us to be more joyful.
How about if we ask what’s right, and honorable, and commendable, and excellent in our city, in our nation, in our political system, in our church, in our jobs? There’s a lot of good out there, if we’d just allow ourselves to see it. Paul knows that there are problems in the world, and he’s written about these problems in many of his letters. It’s not about pretending that problems don’t exist, but it’s about not letting problems live rent-free in our minds. Rather, Paul exhorts us to think about what is just, and pure, and pleasing. If we think about these things, rather than focusing on problems, it might be that we see God’s goodness all around us.
You’ll recall that in the language of the Bible, the word “repent” doesn’t mean to apologize or make amends for a mistake, but “to repent” means to change your mind. What Paul is calling us to is repentance, to changing our minds. Through Jesus Christ, we are brought into the wholeness, goodness, and peace of God which surpasses all understanding and guards our hearts and minds. It is an invitation to repent and see what is holy and good.
An invitation is what is being issued in today’s reading from Matthew as well. Some scholars have called this parable a summary of the entirety of Matthew, and it comes at a crucial place in Matthew. Jesus tells this parable during Holy Week and it’s parables like this, told against Temple authorities that got Jesus killed. And it really is a radical parable.
It wasn’t uncommon in Jesus’ day to have a lavish wedding banquet when a child got married, and it’s not uncommon today. As a priest, I go to a lot of wedding receptions, and I’ve never seen one like this one that Jesus describes. No one expects all of the guests come to a wedding. You invite 100 people to a wedding, but you really only expect about 80 to show up, and that’s the number you plan for. I’ve never seen a wedding reception that has 80 invited guests and then 20 random people pulled off the streets because there is food for 100 people. But Jesus tells us that the good and the bad are invited to the wedding banquet.
God doesn’t invite us to the banquet because we’re good people who deserve it. God invites us because the party is ready and there’s more than enough for everyone to join in the festivities. We will be surprised by who attends the heavenly banquet – there might be some people there who we think are morally bankrupt or undeserving there, people we’d never invite to a party. This radical inclusion of God’s invitation grates against our sense of what is proper, what is fair, what is deserved. But it’s God’s party, not ours; we don’t get to decide who makes the guest list. And the Good News in that is that it means that you and I are in no danger of being left off the guest list.
And then the parable, if this is even possible, gets more challenging. A man shows up saying “Hey, I heard there was a party going on.” But this man wasn’t wearing the proper attire to be attending a wedding banquet, and so the king orders this man to be bound hand and foot and thrown into the outer darkness where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. I thought everyone was invited, both the good and the bad? At least this guy showed up and didn’t come up with excuses or kill the king’s messengers. But he shows up, maybe he didn’t get the memo that this was a black-tie event and ends up in the outer darkness – that’s harsh.
This parable tells us something about what it means to accept the invitation. Again, the idea of repentance, of making an actual change, is crucial to understanding what is going on. There are several places in Scripture where faith is spoken of as something that we wear – the garments of righteousness, the helmet of salvation, putting on the Lord Jesus Christ. Today, we talk about keeping faith as a private matter, but for Jesus, it’s pretty clear that faith needs to be worn not only on our sleeves, but should be our entire outfit.
The goodness of God and the peace which passes all understanding isn’t an invitation which we verbally accept and then carry on with life as normal. The invitation that God gives us isn’t some sort of heavenly roll call that we use to reserve our seat at the heavenly banquet. No, the faith that God calls us into is a call to repentance, to change, to transformation. The man without the robe wasn’t wearing this metaphorical garment of transformation.
Our faith is about so much more a status. Coming to church or believing in God isn’t about punching our ticket for paradise after death. We’re invited to something better than that. God is hosting the most extravagant and fantastic party that you could ever imagine, and even then, it would exceed your expectations. It’s a party that will change your life. And this party doesn’t start after you die; certainly, the party transcends space and time, life and death, but you don’t need to die before you can enjoy the life of the party.
The party is going on right now, all around us. That’s the Good News. That’s what right in our world, in our city, in our church. If we’re not always focusing on all of the problems out there, we can take part in this party. That’s what happens when we focus on what is true, honorable, just, pure, pleasing, commendable, excellent, and praise-worthy. Those things are what the party is all about, and you can be transformed by the peace, love, and mercy of God which surpass all understanding. This isn’t about the power of positive thinking, but it’s about celebration. As Paul said in today’s reading “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.” Rejoice, because there is a great party going on.
Today, we are starting our annual stewardship campaign for the 2018 budget year. Stewardship isn’t about paying the bills, it’s not about paying my salary, it’s not about funding ministry. If that’s what we were after, we’d call it fundraising and we’d find more effective ways of doing it. We’d tell you what you should give, or we’d have membership fees, or we’d charge for services rendered. But that’s not the business of stewardship.
Stewardship is your invitation to the party. Stewardship is about transformation. We give to the church to be transformed by the act of giving. We give because we want to be part of this great party that God is throwing at St. Luke’s. Certainly, we can be like the man who shows up in the wrong clothes: just showing up and doing the minimum. And all gifts are appreciated because all giving does help us to meet our budgetary needs. But that’s not stewardship and that’s not transformative.
What would it mean to give in a transformational way? Not in a way that would transform St. Luke’s, but in a way that would transform you? What would it mean to give in a transformational way so that we are anchored in generosity for God’s goodness? That transformational number isn’t as simple as 10% - for some that number will more and for some it will be less. What number would you need to put on that line on the pledge card to transform your budget? Not to bankrupt you, not to cause you stress, but to put your whole trust in God to provide for you, to make it clear that you’re ready to party. What level of giving will help you make a meaningful break with the priorities of the world, and allow you to truly follow Jesus?
Of course, this isn’t about money, it’s about priorities. Money is just the beginning of our transformation in God. God isn’t hoping that give your wallet, but rather your heart and your life. But if we can’t start with the basics, with money, then the journey to finding God’s peace which surpasses all understanding is going to be a lot harder.
As we celebrate the Feast of St. Luke today, I am reminded that there is so much right with St. Luke’s right now. Are we perfect? Not even close, as only God is perfect. But the way this community cares for each other is transformational. I’ve spoken with several people recently who have received the love of God through the members of this church, and they’ve told me that it was transformational for them. Each time we have a funeral at St. Luke’s, I’m amazed that we have a strong choir that shows up to sing. I’ve never been in a church that does that, and I can’t tell you how proud it makes me to be able to tell a grieving family that there will be a robust choir at their loved one’s funeral. I had dinner with the Youth Group last week and was a part of the 345 Group’s program, and I’m always inspired by the faith of our young people. We’re planning a lunch for those who have joined St. Luke’s in the last year or so, it’s over 25 people who we have the pleasure of inviting to such an event. Our music has been outstanding under Jane’s leadership, and that’s going to continue when Matt Woods joins us in a few weeks as our new Director of Music Ministry. Bonnie has been leading a group on Monday evenings that is helping people to go deeper in faith. Reg Boland has transformed the library and clergy vesting room into a hospitality area for first-responders. We have members active in mission throughout our community putting faith into action. Through the ministries of the altar guild, ushers, lectors, chalice bearers, and acolytes, we provide consistently excellent liturgies to praise God. There is so much that is right with St. Luke’s, and it remains ones of my deepest honors and joys to serve as your Rector.
Your pledge card is your invitation to transformation, your invitation to the party that God is putting on at St. Luke’s. Sure, there are problems in the world, but God’s love and grace give us so many more examples of what is right in this world. Let’s think on those things give us reason to rejoice and so be transformed by God’s goodness. God has invited us to an extravagant feast, so put on your best and let’s party.
