Texts: Isaiah 25: 1-9; Matthew 22: 1-14

Several weeks ago I officiated at the wedding of one of my paralegals and her long time boyfriend at Shadowbrook. Other than the fact that all she had been talking about for the last month was her wedding, which is understandable, of course, I was struck by the – oh, how can I say it – the elaborateness of the facilities, the food, and the rest of it. What a far cry from my own wedding before which I argued with the minister about the language of the vows, or its fairly simple punchbowl and cookies reception, or even the fact that there was no videographer or fourteen people with cameras wandering all over the place to get photos of the event. Weddings have changed in many ways, to be sure. But I remind myself, for every grand show wedding there is also one in a room next to the kitchen with children in their Sunday finery sitting down, staring at the events unfolding before them, not sure of how they are supposed to behave.

Before, weddings were usually held held in churches or, civilly, in a judge's chamber or mayor's office, though my own parents were married, like the old Norman Rockwell painting, in the living room of a Methodist minister, roused from his sleep on a Saturday night, trying to figure out how to have the two deaf people in front of him recite the vows. The one constant seems to be wedding woes, whether it's the guest who should have been invited now felt slighted or the ones that showed up without any invitation at all.

For many of us, far removed from the Palestine of Jesus' time, this is a strange parable. It is important to, first, put ourselves in the context of that time to figure out what this parable was saying to those who heard it, and then, secondly, to see if we can draw any meaning for us in our world today. So, let's look at the first part. Jesus lived in a country occupied by an alien power – the Romans, who had worked out an accommodation with the temple leadership: you do your thing and we'll do our thing; that is, we won't rock your boat if you don't rock ours.

Enter Jesus. He rocks everyone's boat. He is neither content with the Roman occupation nor with the temple leadership whom he rightfully perceives as not only being collaborators but as also oppressing the people with their demands for support. Although there were differences of class and rank between the Sadducees and the Pharisees, as the temple leadership they didn't dirty their hands with manual labor; they were supported by the taxes paid by the people, largely a peasant class or, as we might say in our day, the working poor. The parable is a direct attack on those who thought they would be the obvious invitees, the wealthy and the proud – sometimes you see their photos in the Sunday Times at society galas dispensing their noblesse oblige by raising money for worthy causes.

In the parable, when those who were invited spurned the King's invitation, some even mistreating and killing his servants, the King not only takes revenge by destroying their cities but then sends other servants to invite those who would not normally be invited to such an occasion, namely, the poor and marginalized of society, the good and the bad. The wedding garment referred to in the text could be considered to be a person who had no respect for the King, one who was not, in the words of Paul, clothed with righteousness, one who did not heed the significance of the invitation.

As an aside and theological note, that last verse, number 14, “For many are called, but few are chosen,” served as a basis of Calvin's doctrine of election, which took the theological principle of God's grace being alone sufficient to save and turned it on its head by declaring that God not only saved but also condemned. Based on the doctrine of the elect, our Puritan ancestors set themselves up in much the same kind of theocratic tyranny that they had condemned. Theologically, then, we could only live as if chosen but never would know until after death when facing judgment.

Before we move into trying to draw some meaning from this parable for our day, for a moment, let's consider the text from the First Isaiah who also lived in a tumultuous time. The Northern Kingdom of Israel had been annexed by the Assyrian Empire, which also threatened Judah and Jerusalem to the South. Isaiah directly connected the impending collapse with the oppression of the poor. The reading this morning is part of a mini apocalypse, promising a joyful end after the terror of the impending collapse. Embedded, so to speak, in many of Jesus' parables, are references from the prophet, references that were not lost on his hearers, especially on the temple leadership who served, in Isaiah's phrase, a “place of aliens” in Jerusalem.

Okay, we don't live in the eighth century nor do we live in the first. What meaning can be drawn from this parable, if any, for our day? How do we respond to this Jesus who rocked boats and took on the powers of his day? Well, over the past few weeks, we've certainly had our boats being rocked by what was originally considered to be a fringe element: the Occupy Wall Street Movement, which has grown from a few dozen protesters in Manhattan to demonstrations in at least a dozen cities, including Boston, Washington, San Francisco, Grand Rapids – that's in Michigan for us East Coasters – and Spokane, Washington, to name a few places.

Young and not so young disaffected persons from all walks of life, including students, social workers, union members, and now members of Congress, have joined and signed on to demands that Wall Street be taken in for its corporate greed. You can find the Movement on Facebook and other social media. These are not the Bonus Army veterans who camped on the Washington mall in 1932 and were dispersed by Hoover, an action that helped him to lose the election to Roosevelt because this movement encompasses many elements of society. The Dodd-Franks bill, which was supposed to “correct” the excesses of banks, hedge funds, and stock traders, is in the process of being gutted by opposition from the political establishment, now suddenly afraid it will not get the financial support it has in the past. After all, the median bonus for CEOs of large companies like AIG, Citigroup,Bank of America, and General Motors actually declined to only $7.7 million after those companies accepted financial help from TARP and other government bailouts. Isn't your heart just breaking to hear that they have suffered so much?
In the meantime, we have a soaring homeless rate right here in Monmouth County, and not jut among the unemployed but among those who now, having lost middle class jobs with benefits, are working for little more than the minimum wage. Like Jesus, we need to rock the boat by examining some of the fundamental beliefs we have been sold by those who want to hold onto their positions of power and prestige.

Now, I'm not suggesting that we all go to Wall Street and march – although it did cross my mind to do so, but what I am suggesting is that we need to hold our elected officials accountable, whether they are local, state, or federal. And we need to hold ourselves accountable when we do not act on our stated beliefs. We cannot be like the crowds that listened to Jesus but in the end were influenced to cry, “Crucify him” when pushed by the corrupt leadership that collaborated with the occupiers, the Roman imperium that crushed dissent with crosses just as those who speak for economic justice today face the wrath of the radical right wing supported by the very Wall Street that funds them.

We need a new voice, a new type of radical reason that will reflect the basic truth of the Gospel, namely, that the disparities of income, class, race, gender, alienage, as well as others, are an affront to God because they do not reflect the radical message that Jesus came to deliver: that God desires justice and righteousness for all peoples. It is our task to live and act in such a way to bring that Gospel to fruition.

Let us pray: Holy Establisher of Righteousness, instill in us not only a desire for justice among all peoples but the willingness to work for your vision of justice for our world, as did the One we follow, even Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.