Come to the Banquet!

"The kingdom of heaven may be likened to a king who gave a wedding feast for his son." (Mt 22:2)

It is always amazing to note how often the Bible uses the setting of a meal to help us understand God’s care for us. Today is no exception. Both  Isaiah and Matthew tell of a grand banquet that God has prepared for us. In the gospel, however, God’s anger also emerges in two parts. First the King is upset that so many people who he invited to his son’s wedding banquet fail to come. It even seems likely that he sent wagons or a horse for them, and still they did not respond. The king is troubled a second time when he spots someone without a wedding garment, and it is this small detail that often fascinates and confuses us.

Why would the King, God, be so upset when someone from the highways and byways comes to the banquet without a proper wedding garment? St Augustine suggests that people were provided with a wedding garment at the door to the banquet hall and while this insight helps a bit, a further cultural factor seems to be at play.

There were two distinct kinds of feasts in the ancient world. The first known as a ceremonial feast would have been something a local political leader might host. He might invite people to the anniversary of his ascension to power, or the wedding of one of his children. Everything would be provided for his guests. They had only to enjoy themselves and be grateful. The second kind of feast was known as a ritual feast. A king or local tetrarch might host a ritual feast when his son came of age or entered the military. This kind of feast signaled a transformation in someone’s life, a time when new expectations were thrust upon the one being celebrated, a time to rejoice but also to change.

Today’s gospel seems to have elements of both kinds of feasts. The king is both honoring his son’s wedding, but also, and in a powerful symbolic way, he is ritually telling the poor that they belong, they count, they are persons worthy of honor. Anyone refusing to wear the wedding garment provided for the guests is not only dishonoring the king’s generosity, she is refusing to accept her designation as God’s child, and to change in gratitude for the gift of her own dignity and worth. While the gospel may be challenging Jews specifically who reject the Messianic identity of Jesus, it is also about all of us. We are God’s children, his beloved, his chosen one’s. In gratitude we must wear the wedding garment which symbolizes God’s love and assurance that we have great dignity, that we are the body of Christ, that we must go about in the world as disciples of the King and proclaim good news.

Do we accept God’s mantle of love that calls us to live a life of gratitude and service? If we do not then we place ourselves with the man who chooses to come to the wedding banquet, but is not willing to change. In fact, we condemn ourselves. It is not God’s generosity that is lacking, it is our unwillingness to accept ourselves as God sees us and live in gratitude.

Pray today to see yourself as God sees you, a person of great dignity and value. Pray too to see others as God seems them.

Gather in Faith

For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them. Mt 18:20

There was an important, and in some circles, still controversial document that emerged from  the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops in 1979. Entitled Environment and Art in Catholic Worship, and never formally approved by the entire assembly of bishops, it became enormously important for the principles it used to guide architects and liturgical theologians in redesigning Catholic churches after the Second Vatican Council.

One principle especially was very important to me personally. Architects, it suggested, must never forget that when we gather for worship nothing is more important than the assembly of believers. Therefore, they should make sure there was a place, whenever possible, for people to gather in faith in preparation for the Eucharist.  This principle resulted in many churches in the United States having large vestibules, sometimes called narthexes or foyers.

There were some who argued that the emphasis on a “gathering space” took too much of the mystery of faith away.  Talking, catching up with other believes, some argued, distracted from the sacred action of the Eucharist.  No doubt this happened for some, but not for me.  To remember that Christ is present in the assembly and all those who “gather in faith,” was very important to me. I was raised in a church that emphasized the role of the priest to the detriment of the assembly. Even though the church in which I was raised insisted that there always be an altar server to represent the church, I was not convinced.  The priest's role overshadowed everything else that happened when we gathered to celebrate the Eucharist.  That is why is was so important for to hear, and begin to believe, that Christ was present, not just in the person of the priest and the privilege he had to speak the words of institution, but in the assembly as it gathered in faith, in the Word and in the breaking of the bread.

Gathering, the church teaches, is the first action of the Eucharist.  When we come together in faith, bringing with us all that has happened to us personally and communally during the previous week, we proclaim that Christ is always among us, always empowering us. Moreover, it is the gathering in faith that opens us to the power of the Word, the breaking of the bread, and the service of the community demanded by Jesus.

“For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them,” changes everything. God is with us, not only in the person of the priest, in the word and in the breaking of the bread, but when we gather in faith to celebrate Christ among us.

 

Spiritual Blindness

“Blind fools, which is greater, the gold, or the temple that made the gold sacred?” (Mt 23, 17)

Jesus’ rant against the Pharisees is painful to read no matter how many times we return to it.  There seems to be no wiggle room whatever for the Pharisees. Jesus sounds full of rage at them and we wonder why.  What we do know about the Pharisees is that they regularly sought “conversions” among observant Jews to their way of leading an authentic Jewish life. (1) They demanded that their “converts” eat properly tithed food and be ritually pure. However, there seems to be little evidence that a conversion of this kind affected the lives of the newly converted. In other words, conversion to phariseeism was more of an internal and personal experience of reform, but had little to do with the redoing of one’s entire life.  Perhaps that is the source of Jesus’ anger.  

In a contemporary setting, those of us who profess to be “practicing” Catholics might work very hard at keeping the laws of the church, rigorously observe the Sunday mass obligation, fast and abstain from meat during Lent, and contribute to the upkeep of the church by regular contributions, but rarely if ever make changes to our lives that help us to be more conformed to Christ and authentic witnesses of a gospel life.

Today's gospel challenges us to think about our personal and communal blindness. What is it as individuals and communities that we must reflect upon and change?  Almost every Sunday I think about young people and young adults because I rarely see them in church. Are we too upset, too confused to acknowledge this?  What do we need to do to attract young people to a faith filled life?  I am not talking about changing the liturgy so that it might be more lively and attractive to them.  I am thinking about what they catch from us who profess belief.  Do they catch a passion for prayer, the poor, new immigrants, and those who feel isolated from the church for any reason?

Today I invite you to think about what others “catch” from us. Do others witness our compassion and understanding, and feel challenged to live a counter cultural life?  Or do they simply see observant Christians whose faith seems not to affect their everyday lives?