Dr. William A. Ritter
First United Methodist Church
Birmingham, Michigan
Scripture: Matthew 22:11-14
Along about 9:00 last night, I gave semi-serious consideration to wearing my tux for these Ash Wednesday services of worship. Just as quickly, I discarded the idea, given that it might be perceived as frivolous. And whatever else Ash Wednesday is about, it is certainly not frivolous.
At issue in this morning’s text is “wedding attire” (and what is “appropriate” for such an occasion). I don’t suppose there is anyone here who hasn’t been invited to a wedding….attended a wedding….or pondered what to wear to a wedding. As a veteran of 1600 weddings, I have seen it all. I’ve seen weddings where all the guests came formally attired. And I’ve seen weddings where everybody stopped one step short of “beach apparel.” As concerns male options, I’ve seen men in tuxes….dark suits…..sport coats….slacks and shirts with open collars…..khakis and sweaters….even cowboy boots and jean jackets. On the other side of the gender gap, I’ve seen women in evening dresses…..glitzy dresses….cocktail dresses….party dresses….shirtwaist dresses….power suits….slacks and blouses….even halters and shorts. No rule governs every occasion. I’ve long been told that women who attend a wedding should never dress in a manner that upstages the bride. If I could add one additional rule, it would concern the revealing of too much skin. But that’s a personal prejudice.
Most every location has a dress code. Sometimes the code is written. Sometimes unwritten. Sometimes the rules are formally stated. Other times, informally implied. Every one of us has gone to eat in an establishment that posts: “No Shoes. No Shirt. No Service.” There can be no mistaking where the management stands. By contrast, I belong to a club where I can’t walk through the lobby without a tie. Were you to ask where it says that, I couldn’t point to a sign. One is just supposed to know such things.
Actually, this text about the wedding guest who was inappropriately clad follows a more familiar story of Jesus, that of the wedding banquet itself. You remember it. The king sends out a raft of invitations. But the recipients send their regrets. Each would appear to have a good reason. But none is willing to come. Which angers the king. So he asks his messenger to beat the bushes. “Go get anybody….from anywhere….by any means.” So they do. And all of the second wave shows up.
Which sounds like the gospel we know.
Round ‘em up.
Reel ‘em in.
Take ‘em all.
One even pictures Doris Hall in the banquet hall, quietly playing “Just As I Am.”
But suddenly comes this jarring note. It strikes the ear like the sound of a dinner fork in the garbage disposal. Walking among the guests, the king finds a man with no wedding garment on. “How did you get in here?” the king asks. Whereupon the bouncers are called and the man is thrown out. Way out. Out of the hall. Out into the “outer darkness.”
What’s this about, anyway? Surely, this is not about ties….tails….tuxedos. Surely this is not about protocols…..proprieties….performance expectations. After all, if God’s grace does not come in response to good works, surely it can’t come in response to fine dress. This is harsh…. judgmental….un-Jesus-like. But it is very Matthew-like. Matthew’s gospel presents difficulties not found elsewhere. Matthew’s gospel yields images of judgment that cannot be found elsewhere. Whenever we hear words like “weeping,” “wailing,” “gnashing of teeth,” and “outer darkness,” we can assume that we are reading Matthew.
But back to the story. The evictee was speechless. Wouldn’t you be? I mean, did you ever get thrown out of any place….especially a place where Doris Hall was playing “Just As I Am” as you walked in the door? How can we make sense of this?
I’m not entirely sure. But thanks to Richard Hays, I think I have a clue. Richard Hays teaches ethics at Duke. Five weeks ago, I sat in his class entitled “Preaching New Testament Ethics.” Discussing this story of the “wedding garment,” Hays said the following:
While God’s message extends far more widely than any of us think, guests who accept God’s gracious invitation must not assume that being invited is an invitation to laxity.
But the story still sounds harsh. Or it did, until I realized that….as with any good thing….it is possible to abuse grace. Which brings me to an old seminary friend from Amery, Wisconsin. Prior to deciding for the ministry, this friend lived a somewhat free-and-easy life (if you know what I mean). One night he got talking about the annual revival that took place in Amery. Same format every year. Instead of a tent, everybody went down to the football field. Somewhere out around the 50 yard line stood the evangelist and the choir. When it came time for the altar call, people streamed down from the bleachers and out onto the field. Said my friend:
The thing I remember most about the revival was that every night my girlfriend and I would come down from the bleachers to get saved. Then, when they turned out the lights and everybody went home, we’d go down under the bleachers and give ourselves fresh reason to get saved the next night.
If you think about that long enough, I think you’ll agree that it’s possible to abuse grace. Or, as Hays put it: “Guests who accept God’s gracious invitation must not assume that being invited is an invitation to laxity.”
Some years ago, a group of us were invited to tour one of those Salvation Army-type shelters in the bowels of an eastern city. You know the kind of place I’m talking about. They opened the doors and everybody came in. Whereupon they sobered ‘em up….cleaned ‘em up….fed ‘em up….and prayed ‘em up. But they didn’t let just anyone stay the night. You had to cut a deal. You had to agree (I think, in writing) that you would not spit….swear….drink….fight….or steal some other guy’s stuff while he slept. And you had to go to the nightly chapel service.
I remember someone asking: “Isn’t this a little bit harsh?” And I remember the host answering: “They can come in, but they’ve got to follow the rules.”
Lent is a good time to preach such a message. For Lent is not only about invitations to answer. Lent is about disciplines to undertake and work to do. Historically, Lent has generated daily “job descriptions” for Christians. Give up this. Take on that. I used to minimize that. But I don’t anymore. I think that “doing something” for Lent is exceedingly important.
Guests who accept God’s gracious invitation must not assume that being invited is an invitation to laxity.
My friends, the table is prepared. At which Jesus invites the needy….and feeds the hungry. But Jesus gives no encouragement to the sloppy. At least, not so as I can tell.
