Reflection on Matthew 5:1-12

 

Matthew 5:1-12

1 When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. 2 Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying: 3 "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 4 "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. 5 "Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. 6 "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. 7 "Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy. 8 "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. 9 "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. 10 "Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 11 "Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. 12 Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

 

Reflection

I must admit that today is one of my favorite Sundays in the church year.  Today is All Saints Sunday, where we remember the people to whom our hearts have clung, who have died, and who are now with God as a part of the church triumphant.  I know that this can be a rough Sunday, especially for those who have lost someone very close to them this past year.  In a way, All Saints Sunday can feel like a second funeral, with the spirits of those we loved and have lost lingering in the church, and the pain of their loss lingering in our hearts.

But I love All Saints Sunday because of something that I just mentioned: the idea that those I love and have lost are still lingering in the church.  I find great comfort in the reality that when we sing our All Saints hymns, my Grandma Helen is right next to me singing as well, in her raspy but committed voice.  We still sing together in the same way that we sang hymns together in the pew when I was nine years old. 

In addition to that, I find great comfort in the thought that when I preside at the table, my father, who was also a pastor, sings the liturgy with me at the feet of Jesus Christ our Lord. 

Along with that, I find great comfort in the knowledge that when we eat the meal, my Grandma Marian, who ate with us here at this very communion altar several times, is still eating the meal with us.  This day is the great family reunion of those who love God and love one another.  It is the feast of the saints of God.

Of course, every Sunday is the technically the feast of the saints of God.  That is why communion can be so moving for so many of us.  We know that every time we gather at the table, we eat next to our loved ones; but All Saints Sunday is the Sunday when we stop to recognize that is precisely what is happening.  It is the gathering of the saints of God feasting together at the table of God.  And it does not matter if a person is entering the reunion through the doors of the church, through the door of Baptism, or through the resurrection door, we all get to gather and feast this day at the table of God where the feasting never ends.  This is the feast of the saints of God.

And that means that you too are a saint.  You may fear that this celebration could not possibly include you.  If that is your fear, I would like to remind you that in the Bible, a saint is not a morally perfect person, nor are they a person of superman-like faith.  No, in the Bible Paul calls all the members of the church “saints.”  In Ephesians 1:1 he writes, “Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, to the saints who are in Ephesus.”

Christ has claimed you his own.  That baptismal claim cannot be wiped away with any towel.  So, welcome to the family reunion, O saints of God. 

Why don’t we sit down and swap some old pictures from the scrapbook of Christianity, and look at some of those saints, some of those everyday Christians whom Jesus brought into the family through grace. 

You can see snapshots of what those saints look like as you read Matthew, Chapter 5.  Immediately you see the undeniable image of the “poor in spirit.”  “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven,” Matthew 5:3 begins.  The poor in Spirit are those who lack the power to shape their own lives.  They do not have a powerful spirit.  They are powerless.  Yet the good life of the kingdom belongs to them.

I think of the brother and sister who entered the foster care system holding only their blankets when the police finally caught up with their parents.  They had no power over what their parents had done to them, nor did they have any power over what would happen to them in the future.  But Jesus promised them the kingdom, and I am happy to say that they were embraced at the feast of the saints, and they joined me in our feast of Nilla wafers in my childhood Sunday School class.  They sat next to the kid who ate crayons.  I guess he is at God’s feast too.

On the next page of the scrapbook of the saints of God, we find ourselves surrounded by those who mourn.  “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted” (Matthew 5:4).  No, they do not ruin the party as they often fear.  Rather, their tears draw us closer together as we wrap our arms around their shoulders for comfort.  Some of them mourn for a world they hoped they could have, but it never came.  Parents stumbling through the rubble of their homes during wartime had hoped for peaceful neighborhoods and green lawns.  Even they will get to eat some southern cooked comfort food at the Lord’s feast.

Still looking at the scrapbook of the saints of God we see a picture of the meek.  “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth” (Matthew 5:5).  Rather than talking about someone who stays in the background because they do not want to be in the spotlight (though God loves those “meek” people as well) the people that Jesus is talking about here are the people who are in the background because they are never seen in the first place.  The good life belongs to the “unimportant” Jesus declares.  The child who is not asked by anyone to play at recess, ever; the child who says, “Its fine, I am used to being alone,” to that child and every other unimportant person, Jesus is going to make sure that they have a permanent place at his feast.  The whole earth is their inheritance from God.

Of course, there are “those who hunger and thirst for righteousness” (Matthew 5:6).  They have a deep, stomach-growling hunger for relationships to be made right.  The good life belongs to those who starve for people to be drawn back together.  These children of God care deeply about the brothers or sisters who refuse to talk and crave to see them brought back together.  Seeing that happen is how God could fill their stomachs. 

As you feast at the Lord’s table, looking through the pictures of the saints you hear the unmistakable voice of the merciful one.  “Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy” (Matthew 5:7).  The merciful one is the person who makes certain that everyone is treated like family.  She has hand-made crafts for everyone at the table.  And yes, she even pulls out a chair for the hated one, the family betrayer.  You see; the merciful one knows that only when seated at the table does the betrayer have the chance to reach for a buttered roll of forgiveness.  She trusts Jesus when he says, “love your enemies” (Matthew 5:44).

You have a chuckle as you pass on the much hated and slightly burned green bean casserole, and your pure-hearted brother takes it, smiles genuinely and says “Thank you so much.  This stuff is great.”  “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God” (Matthew 5:8).  He sees potential in everything and everyone.  He has never grown old.  His heart is still the heart of a child.  His heart matches God’s heart in such a pure way, you are convinced that he and God hang out together and play rounds of golf on the weekends.  He sees God, and it is a beautiful thing for you to see.

A moment is taken in the gathering to honor Father Joe.  It is said that in the middle of war, with only his prayer book in hard, the good priest convinced the enemy at gunpoint to put down their arms.  “These are you brothers and sisters.  You cannot harm your brothers and sisters, can you?”  That day he saved both sides from losing life, and instead an exchange of candy and cigarettes ruled the day.  “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God” (Matthew 5:9).  Anyone who runs toward conflict rather than running away, all so that peace might rule the day, gets a special toast.  At least that is what I think.

We also raise a glass to all who were and are currently persecuted for their Christian faith or for seeking to make things right and good in the world in the way Jesus did.  Some of the persecuted ones are unable to gather with us, as they spend their feasting time behind bars or worse.  The formerly persecuted, who eat the feast with us from the other side of death, know their names and make certain that we do not forget.  Held hostage for loving the world, they reflect the heart of Jesus who was taken captive and hung on a cross to make things right and good in the world again.  Their lives and Jesus’ life are so intertwined that we cannot even conceive of forgetting to take time to pray for them.

As we look around the table at all the feasting and laughing, we see saints from the rest of Jesus’ ministry also, as The Reverend Ralph Jacobson puts it, we see “sinners who are forgiven, handicapped who are healed, the rejected who are received, the cursed who are blessed, the unclean who are purified, the salt of the earth, the light of the world. That’s our family.”

https://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=5461

Today, we give thanks to God for them all...for us all.  For the Lord called each one of us, bathing us with the waters of grace, feeding us with the delicious meal of love, and wrapping us with a warm blanket of eternity. 

Rejoice and be glad you people, for you are children of heaven.  You are the saints of God.

Reflection on Romans 3:19-28

 

Romans 3:19-28 (NRSVue)

19 Now we know that, whatever the law says, it speaks to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be silenced and the whole world may be held accountable to God. 20 For no human will be justified before him by deeds prescribed by the law, for through the law comes the knowledge of sin.

 21 But now, apart from the law, the righteousness of God has been disclosed and is attested by the Law and the Prophets, 22 the righteousness of God through the faith of Jesus Christ for all who believe. For there is no distinction, 23 since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; 24 they are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, 25 whom God put forward as a sacrifice of atonement by his blood, effective through faith. He did this to demonstrate his righteousness, because in his divine forbearance he had passed over the sins previously committed; 26 it was to demonstrate at the present time his own righteousness, so that he is righteous and he justifies the one who has the faith of Jesus. 

 27 Then what becomes of boasting? It is excluded. Through what kind of law? That of works? No, rather through the law of faith. 28 For we hold that a person is justified by faith apart from works prescribed by the law. 

 

Reflection

In his book, “When Christ Comes,” Max Lucado recounts a true story that occurs immediately after a horrific earthquake.

“Moments after the deadly tremor ceased, a father raced to an elementary school to save his son. When he arrived, he saw that the building had been leveled. Looking at the mass of stones and rubble, he remembered a promise he had made to his child: ‘No matter what happens, I’ll always be there for you.’

Driven by his own promise, he found the area closest to his son’s room and began to pull back the rocks. Other parents arrived and began sobbing for their children.

‘It’s too late,’ they told the man. ‘You know they are dead. You can’t help.’ Even a police officer encouraged him to give up his task.

But the father refused. For eight hours, then sixteen, then thirty-two, thirty-six hours he dug. His hands were raw and his energy gone, but he refused to quit. Finally, after thirty-eight wrenching hours, he pulled back a boulder and heard his son’s voice. He called his boy’s name, ‘Arman! Arman!’ And a voice answered him, ‘Dad, it’s me!’

Then the boy added these priceless words, ‘I told the other kids not to worry. I told them if you were alive, you’d save me, and when you saved me, they’d be saved, too. Because you promised, ‘No matter what, I’ll always be there for you.’”

(https://www.irontontribune.com/2021/05/16/he-has-promised-he-will-always-be-there-for-you/)

This beautiful story demonstrates one of the primary biblical truths that drove the Protestant Reformation: we are saved by God’s “grace as a gift” (Romans 3:24).   Just as the child had faith that he and his friends would be rescued because of his father’s love, we also know that we will not be lost to the rubble of life because we have faith in Jesus’ promise to rescue us and make us right.  We are in the rubble.  We cannot possibly get ourselves out.  Whenever we try, another piece of rubble falls to pin us under.  But, rather than despair, we trust the promise given to us, “No matter what, I’ll always be there for you.”  We urge others in the rubble to trust that promise as well.

This very biblical truth was a mind-blowing revelation to the young monk, Martin Luther. His life changed when he cracked open the Bible and read: “We hold that a person is justified by faith apart from works prescribed by the law” (Romans 3:28).  The idea that a person is made right by trusting in the saving power of Jesus Christ, rather than trusting in our own power was something that had never occurred to Luther. 

Luther constantly struggled to be good enough for God.  He tried to be perfect.  He really did, but every single, simple mistake would make him believe that he was pushing God further and further away.  He would confess again and again and again, hoping to be good enough for a God who he imagined was constantly upset with him.  He visited the confession booth and spilled his sin so often that the poor priest became sick of listening to him. 

In his own words, Luther describes this life: “As a monk I led an irreproachable life. Nevertheless I felt that I was a sinner before God. My conscience was restless, and I could not depend on God being propitiated by my satisfactions [he could not trust that he had gained God’s favor by doing all that God expected]. Not only did I not love, but I actually hated the righteous God who punishes sinners…Thus a furious battle raged within my perplexed conscience…” ("Weimarer Ausgabe" 54. 183-185).

There is so much pressure on us to be a certain type of person; to be a good person. There is so much pressure to be acceptable and accepted. 

I think of the teenage girl whose face was disfigured by a genetic disorder.  She was not pretty by the world’s standards.  In fact, most people averted their eyes when looking at her for the first time.  But videos on YouTube convinced the teen that if she was just able to perfect her makeup, people would finally love her and accept her and see her as beautiful. 

She watched video after video, practicing her makeup technique again and again in front of a mirror as she strove to perfect the law of good looks.  She was obsessed.  The obsession was beginning to affect her homework.  Her parents were worried and did not understand; she just wanted to be loved.  She just wanted friends.

So, she trusted in the law of makeup; the rules that lead to beauty.  Unfortunately, following the rules of beauty had no effect.  Sadly, most people did not even notice the makeup.  She tried so hard.  But trying hard did not make her life better.  It only taught her a hard lesson: she could not save herself.  She could not make people love her.  She could not make people see her as beautiful. 

The apostle Paul teaches that no one will be made right by trying hard.  “No human will be justified before [God] by deeds prescribed by the law.”  Instead, the law only shows us how weak and ineffective we are, “for through the law come the knowledge of sin” (Romans 3:20).

But never underestimate the power of “Up religion” on our lives.  “Up religion” encourages you to save yourself, make something of yourself; be a better self.  “Up religion” says that you must climb up to finally catch God’s attention.  “Up religion” requires that instructions be followed precisely and laws be kept.

And the thing that is so confusing about the laws of “up religion” is that the laws are good.  As Paul says, “we know that, whatever the law says, it speaks to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be silenced and the whole world may be held accountable to God” (Romans 3:19).  Rules are good.  There are ways that makeup can be done to make you look glamorous. 

Laws are good.  God’s expectations of us are good.  Our expectations of one another are also very good.  We should follow good laws because what we do truly affects other people.  Lying hurst others.  Stealing hurts others.  Killing, I hear, hurts others.  Laws against all these things are good. 

But the problem with “up religion” is that trusting in the rules cannot save us.  We trust that the proper makeup will get us the attention and love that we seek.  And it may get someone to look our way, but it cannot get anyone to love us.  Maybe I am speaking for myself, but wearing makeup has never gotten anyone to love me.

Trying to work our way to earn God’s love is no different.  Have you ever felt like you have prayed enough to make God like you?  How many of you feel as if you have loved your neighbor enough?  Praying and loving neighbors are really good things to do, do not get me wrong.  The law is good.  But being reminded of what is expected of us often causes us to only see how we have fallen short.  “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23).  The law is a mirror, revealing us to be failures.

This is where the good news starts to break in.  After years of struggling to keep the law, only to be exposed as weak and a fraud, Luther made the discovery in God’s Word that changed his life.  In his own words, “Then finally God had mercy on me, and I began to understand that the righteousness of God is a gift of God by which a righteous man lives, namely faith, and that sentence: The righteousness of God is revealed in the Gospel, is passive, indicating that the merciful God justifies us by faith, as it is written: ‘The righteous shall live by faith.’ Now I felt as though I had been reborn altogether and had entered Paradise” (Ibid. 183-185).

Luther finally discovered the gift that God had hidden in plain sight the entire time.  He discovered the gift of “down religion.”  “Down religion” is God’s promise to “come down” to us, to heal us, to feed us, and to save us.  Like that father who digs down through the rubble to save his child, Jesus Christ, the very hands and feet of God, comes down to dig through the rubble of our lives to save us.  This grace is God’s gift of love.  

Since we cannot go up, Christ comes down.  “Since all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God; they are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus” (Romans 3:23-24).  We are people of “down religion.”  We trust in the one who wants the best for us and who goes to any length to make things right for us, even all the way to a cross.  In the cross we see that first and foremost that we are loved by Jesus, and this love is a gift.  To earn God’s love and attention, we had to do nothing.

“Why do you put on so much makeup?” she asked the teenage girl.  It was a girl from her algebra class. 

“I just want to be pretty,” she admitted.

“You are pretty, and smart. That’s why I cheat off your tests,” she laughed.  “Not really, but I notice everyday just how smart you are, and that is beautiful to me.” 

And that was the beginning of a life-long friendship.  It was a friendship, coming out of “down religion,” where no one had to work hard to gain love in the end of the story, but where the gift of love was the beginning of the story.

Everyone strives for “up religion.”  The dark corners of this world want to convince us all that it is up to us to do more and be more and save ourselves.  “Look pretty.”  “Be the best.”  “Find God.”  But we are people of the reformation.  We are people of “down religion” where we do not go up to save ourselves, rather God’s gift of grace comes down to save us. 

The gift of “down religion” is the undercurrent of the poem, “Stepdad.”  I first presented this poem to you a couple of years ago, but I want to present it to you again so that you can see the dynamics of “up religion” and “down religion” in people’s lives.

Stepdad

Everything he does, he does to make his father proud. 

The ceramic volcano that he made in school,

that he handed over to his father in pride,

was thrown into the corner of his Father’s apartment,

collecting piles of dust inside. 

 

I am his stepdad. 

He doesn’t want me,

but I was there to hold him,

he needed to know someone was there to see. 

 

The time that he devoted to the gym,

gaining an impressive, muscular frame,

was not seen by his father

who focused on women’s bodies with his gaze. 

 

I am his stepdad. 

He doesn’t want me,

but I was there to spot him as he lifted those weights.

I will be there, because that is what he needs. 

 

The touchdowns and the championship

were done to spark his father’s pride. 

But staring at the stands, his father was not found,

and his tears he had to hide. 

 

Instead, his eyes fell upon his stepdad. 

He doesn’t want me,

but I smiled and raised my thumbs up high anyway,

because the day will come when he will see, 

 

that while grieving his father

whose pride he was never able to find,

he will see the dad

that he had the entire time. 

 

But, until that day,

I vow to be at his side,

to show him that he has always been loved,

and has never needed to do anything to gain my pride.

 

Christ has been there for you the entire time.  There is no need to do more or work your way up.  Christ has come down to you.  May Christ’s very present love for you, blow your mind, and may he continue to reform your life.

Reflection on Matthew 22:15-22

Matthew 22:15-22 (NRSVue)

¹⁵ The Pharisees went and plotted to entrap [Jesus] in what he said. ¹⁶ So they sent their disciples to him, along with the Herodians, saying, “Teacher, we know that you are sincere, and teach the way of God in accordance with truth, and show deference to no one, for you do not regard people with partiality. ¹⁷ Tell us, then, what you think. Is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar or not?” ¹⁸ But Jesus, aware of their malice, said, “Why are you putting me to the test, you hypocrites? ¹⁹ Show me the coin used for the tax.” And they brought him a denarius. ²⁰ Then he said to them, “Whose head is this and whose title?” ²¹ They answered, “Caesar’s.” Then he said to them, “Give therefore to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and to God the things that are God’s.” ²² When they heard this, they were amazed, and they left him and went away.

Reflection

They have a coin, and Jesus does not.

I know this seems like a trivial detail in this bigger story of religious leaders trying to trap Jesus into giving an answer that would cause the people to turn against him, but the detail is not trivial.

They have a coin, and Jesus does not.

The religious leaders tell their disciples (who do not like Rome) to go to Jesus, bringing along some Herodians (who do like Rome) to ask Jesus if people should pay the oppressive Roman tax.  It is a trap.  If Jesus answers, “No, we support God only,” then the Herodians (those who like Rome) will be able to bring charges against Jesus as a Caesar hating separatist.  If Jesus answers, “Yes, we pay our taxes,” he will undoubtedly lose favor with those who look to him as a possible Messiah who will deliver the people from the evils of Rome.

You see, the religious leaders have Jesus trapped.  Either way that Jesus chooses to answer, he loses.

But, remember, they have a coin, and Jesus does not.

What am I talking about?  I am talking about Jesus’ response to this no-win scenario.  The Bible reads, “Jesus, aware of their malice, said, ‘Why are you putting me to the test, you hypocrites?  Show me the coin used for the tax.” And they brought him a denarius.” 

They have a coin, and Jesus does not.

Those who would try to trap Jesus, readily pull out a Roman coin used to pay taxes, in the middle of the temple, with the image of Caesar’s face emblazoned upon it.  You might be wondering, “Why is this a big deal, Pastor Jira, I have change in the bottom of my pocket right now?” 

It is a big deal because there is this little commandment from God the Father that goes like this: “You shall not make for yourself an idol, whether in the form of anything that is in heaven above, or that is on the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth” (NRSV, Exodus 20:4).

The Israelites were not supposed to have graven images, especially not ones that have the face of someone who claims to be God, Caesar.  They were especially not to carry one into the temple.  That is the whole reason that the temple has money changers in the first place, so that ordinary people can come in, exchange their idolatrous money for coins free of graven images, and give to the work of the temple by paying the temple tax.  There are to be none of these Roman coins in the temple.

But one of the disciples of these religious leaders is holding a coin in his hand, in the temple, and Jesus is not.  They are hypocrites, just as Jesus says.  They walk around, carrying this money without even a single thought about it.  They walk around, collecting this money from hard-working people, and they spend it however they see fit without even a single thought about it.  In short, they do not give any sort of deep thought about their money.

They have a coin, and Jesus does not.

I am not certain that I am much better than these religious leaders.

How many times have I seen someone in need, and thought to myself, “That is sad, someone should really do something about that” while forgetting about the money in my own wallet?  It is not that I do not care.  I thought about them.  I maybe even quickly prayed for them.  Thoughts and prayers.  Thoughts and prayers.  But thoughts and prayers do not feed hungry bellies.  Thoughts and prayers do not right wrongs. 

But I did not even think about the proverbial coin in my pocket.  I did not even consider that it might be there to be put to good use for someone else.  It is mine, so I do not even think about it.  But, maybe I should, because if I did, maybe I would question, “But is it really mine?”

Jesus looks at the coin that these guys absent mindedly pull out in front of God and everyone in the middle of the temple and he asks, “Whose head is this, and whose title?” The men answer, “The emperor’s.” Then Jesus says to them, “Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s” (Matthew 22:20-21).

Before, we dig into Jesus’ answer and what that means for our own lives, I just want to point out another little detail.  When we read here that Jesus “says” something to these disciples of the religious leaders, the word that is used here means more than “says.”  It also means “teaches.”  And I just want to point out that these men want to destroy Jesus with their words, but Jesus wants to teach them with his own.

Can a person be more grace-filled than that?  They want to destroy him, and he wants them to change their lives.  They want him dead, and Jesus wants them to learn. 

Jesus wants more than anything for them to learn.  Jesus wants them to stop living a life with minds set on destroying and with hearts lacking love and self-perception.  Jesus does not dismiss or condemn them.  Jesus “teaches” them. 

Will these particular people turn from their ways?  We do not know.  But what I do know is that Jesus does not simply give up on them, nor does he fail to care about their lost ways.  Just as Jesus loves the sinner and dies for the sinner on the cross, Jesus takes the time here to “teach” and turn around the lives of these lost people.

And, if I am completely honest with myself, so often I am lost too.  Maybe, I too should pay attention to Jesus’ answer. 

Jesus says to them, “Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s” (Matthew 22:21).

This answer is so curious.  Some look at this answer and say, “Look, Jesus says to pay your taxes,” but Jesus does not actually say that.  Others look at this and say, “Jesus says to give it all to God, so we do not need to pay our taxes,” but Jesus does not actually say that either.  What Jesus says is to give back to Caesar whatever belongs to Caesar and give back to God whatever belongs to God.

And Jesus’ answer has the effect of making us stop and think.  The guys who would casually carry a Roman coin into the temple have to stop and think.  The pastor who would casually walk past someone in need, not even considering what is in his own pockets must stop and think.  And I think that is Jesus’ whole point.

We go through this life, just trying to get by from day to day, not even stopping and thinking, just doing, just worrying and just reacting.  What bill needs to be paid next?  What event do I have to get to now?  What chores need to be done?  What assignment needs to be finished?  What task do I need to start doing now?  The things of life just keep piling on and on and on, and Jesus gives us an answer that invites us to stop…and consider if what we are up to has anything to do with God.

Give back to Caesar whatever belongs to Caesar, and back to God whatever belongs to God.  We wonder what this means?  We wonder what could possibly belong to Caesar that does not first belong to God?  After-all, God created it all.  And those questions cause us to finally do what Jesus has wanted us to do all along, think about God, consider God, and get closer to God.

Do we blindly pay our taxes, or do we consider how they are or are not working towards God’s concerns in the world?  Jesus does not answer that for us, but Jesus is happy that we have stopped, noticed the coin, and started thinking about it.

During a confirmation class once, after sitting for way too long staring at a book, the students were invited to get up and go on a walk.  During their walk, they were invited to look around and ask, “How does this belong to God?”

This tree, how does this belong to God?  “Well, God provides the tree as a home for birds and squirrels” one youth answered.  Another chimed in, “It can be used to build us a home if we need one.” 

“This car, how does it belong to God?”  “It can get people to work so that they can feed and raise their children.”  “It can be used to get people to the doctor.”  “My grandma uses hers to deliver food to really old people,” one youth piped up.

After a number of serious questions and serious answers, the kids started getting a little funny.  “This fly, how does it belong to God?”  “This hair, how does it belong to God?”  Their answers were funny, but they were still thinking about God.  They were still thinking about all that God cares about.  They were still engaged with God and not simply going through life in a mindless fog of one darn thing after another.

Then one teen pointed at a girl in the group and asked laughing, “How does this belong to God?”  It was meant to be funny, but it was also eye opening.  They slowly realized that we too belong to God and we too have a divine purpose.

And, then the kids came up with a question that I had never really considered: “How does my presence here belong to God?”

This caused us stop walking and sit for a moment because one of the teens quipped quietly, “I’m pretty sure I do not belong to God.  Nobody wants me.”

Whenever people start talking about “kids these days” and how terrible they are, I always feel a need to stop them right in my gut.  I do that because of things like what happened next.

The other teens responded: “You are God’s child.”  “God put you here for a reason.”  And one teen responded, “You were the only one who said “Hi” to me and ate with me when I moved here.  You were Jesus to me.  Of course, you belong to God.”

So, whenever I start to get into that daily routine of just doing and not considering or praying or thinking about God, I try to remember that day.  I try to remember those teen’s question, “How does my presence here belong to God?”  I look around at my surroundings, wherever I am, at work, or school, or at home, or in the store and I ask, “How does my presence here belong to God?  How am I being the heart, hands, and feet of Jesus right here, right now?”

After-all, we all belong to God.  Everything and everyone belongs to God.  It is only when we start to forget that basic fact that evil and injustice and hard-heartedness is allowed to take hold. 

Never forget: Jesus did not have a coin.  Jesus does not hold onto things, Jesus holds onto people; raising us from the dead on the third day and bringing us to a new life in him.  Jesus truly believes that all we have and all we are belongs to him.  Your life belongs to Jesus Christ our Lord.  Your life belongs to his love.  Carry that around in your pocket as a reminder and ask yourself, “How does my presence here belong to God?  How am I being the heart, hands, and feet of Jesus right here, right now?”

Reflection on Matthew 22:1-14 (Sunday, October 10th, 2026)

 

Matthew 22:1-14

1 Once more Jesus spoke to them in parables, saying: 2 “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son. 3 He sent his slaves to call those who had been invited to the wedding banquet, but they would not come. 4 Again he sent other slaves, saying, ‘Tell those who have been invited: Look, I have prepared my dinner, my oxen and my fat calves have been slaughtered, and everything is ready; come to the wedding banquet.’ 5 But they made light of it and went away, one to his farm, another to his business, 6 while the rest seized his slaves, mistreated them, and killed them. 7 The king was enraged. He sent his troops, destroyed those murderers, and burned their city. 8 Then he said to his slaves, ‘The wedding is ready, but those invited were not worthy. 9 Go therefore into the main streets, and invite everyone you find to the wedding banquet.’ 10 Those slaves went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad, so the wedding hall was filled with guests.

  11 “But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing a wedding robe, 12 and he said to him, ‘Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?’ And he was speechless. 13 Then the king said to the attendants, ‘Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ 14 For many are called, but few are chosen.”

Reflection

There is something that I simply do not like about this parable of the wedding banquet.  This thing makes me uncomfortable and confused, and my guess is that it will do the same for you.

But I was once told that I should not start off a sermon with negativity.  “Start off with something good.  We hear enough negativity in the world.  We do not need to come to church and hear it too.”

So, even though there is something that troubles me about this parable, I will indeed start off with all the things I like about it.

First, this story, about the king who throws a wedding feast and invites people, is a parable.  I love parables.  I love stories that you have to think about and wrestle with and argue with.  I know some of you like to have clear answers.  There is nothing wrong with that.  Maybe parables just are not for you, but I love to wrestle with a good parable from Jesus.

So, that is not the part I do not like.

The second thing that I like about this parable is that this king takes horrendous, evil things done to others seriously.  Those wealthy and powerful who beat and killed the king’s lowly servants simply because they handed out some wedding invitations deserve no mercy.  We live in an age where it seems that if the perpetrator has enough money and power, the little guy never sees justice.  So, even though I am not really a vengeance and killing sort of guy (what happens to the murderers in the story), I do appreciate that those with money and power do not get away with it.  God notices and cares when we face injustice.

So, that also is not the part I do not like.

And knowing that I like to root for the little guy, it will be no surprise that I really, really like this next part of the story.  The king says to his servants: “‘The wedding is ready, but those invited were not worthy. Go therefore into the main streets, and invite everyone you find to the wedding banquet.’  Those slaves went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad, so the wedding hall was filled with guests” (Matthew 22:8-10).

Since the wealthy and powerful do not want anything to do with the banquet, the king just invites everyone.  You don’t know the king?  You are invited!  You are just a poor nobody?  You are invited!  You are a gentle soul who wouldn’t impose on anyone?  You are invited!  You have a terrible past and a terrible reputation and wish that life was different?  You are invited!  You have never been the best person?  You are invited anyway!  “Those slaves went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad” (Matthew 22:10).

I love this part of the story because you have no idea how many people I have invited to come and worship who say to me, “I don’t think I am a very good choice for you to be inviting to church.”  Sometimes the reason is because of poor clothing.  Sometimes the reason is because of a disruptive child.  Sometimes the reason is because of a shameful past and torn heart. 

But both the good and the bad are invited to the party in the parable, and I let them know each and every time that, “We are invited by Jesus, not because we are great, but because we are not, we need him.  The good and the bad, the rich and the poor, the well dressed and the poorly dressed are all welcome to come and feast with Jesus.”

And I love the image of someone who is just dying to have a taste of grace and richness and abundance being invited in by Jesus to feast at his grace-filled table.

But that is where I get to the part that I do not like because this parable seems to say that I am lying.  The parable seems to say that inviting the poorly dressed is a problem.  You see, this guy, invited from the streets, comes into the feast not wearing a wedding robe.  He is punished, and I think to myself, “I thought the poor were welcome?  How is he supposed to be dressed well?  He didn’t ask to be invited; the king had his servants invite the guy in?  This seems like a set up!  How is this fair?”

It all reminds me of the story of Amanda who received an invitation to her best friend’s birthday party.  Before I start, you need to understand that her best friend loved unicorns.  And you also need to understand that this took place in New York City.

So, the invitation had a big unicorn of the front and was titled: “Dressed to Impress: A Themed Night of Fun!”

“I love costume parties!” Amanda thought.  And she knew exactly what costume would make her best friend laugh.

Amanda confidently pulled out a glittering, head‑to‑toe, blow-up unicorn costume. It was awesome.  It had a rainbow tail, and a silver horn, and sparkly hooves. It was perfect.

Amanda arrived at the given address in New York City, turned on the costume’s blower, became a giant unicorn, and walked right into the restaurant.  She strutted in proudly, looked around, and froze.

What she saw were people wearing elegant cocktail dresses, crisp suits, and tasteful jewelry.  They all turned her way and stared and the inflated, plastic, discount store creation standing before them.

The theme was “Dressed to impress,” and the thing that stood at the door of the high-end restaurant was, indeed, an impressive sight!

The tension was broken by her friend who burst out laughing.  Others in the restaurant assumed she was part of a flash mob.  And a child came up to her and asked if she granted wishes.  They all took pictures with the unicorn, and it was great, and it was embarrassing. 

Now, Amanda’s costume mistake cost her some pink cheeks and dignity, but at least it did not cost her life.  The guy from the streets who shows up at the king’s wedding banquet in the wrong clothing is bound “hand and foot” and thrown “into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth” (Matthew 22:13).

And I feel for the people who show up on a Sunday morning to Jesus’ feast and feel underdressed.  Underdressed, not only in what they can afford to wear, but also underdressed in their knowledge of God or the Bible; underdressed in their ability to trust God; underdressed in their morals; underdressed in their reputation; underdressed and exposing themselves as sinners and unloved and weak and lacking faith.  I once saw a guy who was asked by an usher to leave because he was wearing a hat.  He needed the hat to hide some shameful and hideous scars on his head.  When he entered, he feared he would be thrown out, and he was.

I know that I am not alone in fearing that in some way that I am not good enough.  We fear that we are an imposter, pretending to be good and faithful, but actually being very poor and weak.  We fear that if anyone knew the real us, we would be thrown out to suffer the “weeping and gnashing of teeth” (Matthew 22:13).

So that was the part of the parable that I did not like.  It seems like a contradiction.  All are invited and all are welcome, but if you cannot dress right, you actually should not come or there will be consequences.  It seems unloving.  It seems unfair.  It seems the opposite of God’s character.  “It seems like I need to do a little more research,” I said to myself.

So, I did.  I researched ancient Jewish wedding banquets in Palestine, and I discovered something really important.  Do you remember that wedding robe that the guy was not wearing?  It turns out that those things were handed out at the door.  You see, wedding banquets were several days long.  People came and went from the festivities.  They would party all night, head off to work in the morning, and come back again after working.  To maintain the glory and majesty of the celebration, the host would hand out these wedding robes at the door, covering all the sweat and dirt underneath.  The guy that was thrown out for refusing to wear the robe.  He refused to take part.  He refused to celebrate.

And that makes so much more sense.  Jesus covers us all, good and bad, with robes of love and forgiveness.  We are all invited to the celebration: rich, poor, faithful, faithless, strong, weak, good looking, needs improvement; all of us are loved, forgiven, covered by the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross, and welcomed into God’s party of grace. 

It is true that some people break into Jesus’ party and refuse to wear that robe of grace and forgiveness.  Why would you want to be at the party if you did not want to be a part of the party?  Why would you desire grace and forgiveness, if you did not want to be involved in offering grace and forgiveness?

I do not really think that we need the consequence of weeping and gnashing of teeth because bitter and unforgiving people tend to live bitter and unforgiving lives. That sort of life seems full of weeping and gnashing to me.  Maybe a bitter life is the consequence of living a bitter life.

But setting them aside, what I want to say to you this morning is “Welcome to the party!  If you are tenderhearted and good, welcome.  Feast on God’s goodness. 

If you are stuck in life and lost, welcome.  Feast on God’s goodness. 

If you lack faith and do not know which way to turn, welcome.  Feast on God’s goodness. 

And, if you cannot bring yourself to forgive or be forgiven, go to the door and get a robe.  Christ’s robe of love and grace can cover all of that.  Go to the door, love will find you.  Go to the door, Christ will find you.  Go to the door and learn what it mean to wear God’s love.