“Everyone’s Invited to the Wedding Reception” Sermon Proper 17

Everyone’s Invited To The Wedding Reception

If you’ve lived through a wedding you know are stressful. What few people realize is how stressful weddings are for the clergy. Although we will never say it with parishioners around, when clergy get together, we inevitably share horror stories and express disdain for weddings. 

I’ve experienced that firsthand when a wedding goes wrong. When I say wrong, I really it was a disaster before it began. The mother of the bride, bless her heart, deserved her own T.V. show on T.L.C. 

She was a Baptist, so she could not grasp why the Episcopal Church had this, prayer book that defined the order of a marriage ceremony, and she didn’t keep her frustration to herself either. She said. “This is my daughter’s first wedding, and you mean to tell me she can’t write her own vows?”  I said, “This is an Episcopal church, and we stick closely to the prayer book.”

On the day of the wedding, I walked in the vesting room to find the groomsmen and the groom, drunk.

They had two flasks of liquor and the remanence of a twenty-four pack of Bud Light in the trash can next to the vestments.

Finally, we made it to the place in the ceremony itself where I asked for the rings. And the best man reached in his pockets, and he hesitated for a moment as if he lost the rings. I didn’t flinch because it’s the oldest trick in the best man book. 

But then he turned and asked the other groomsmen if they had the rings. They kept looking but couldn’t find the rings either. So I said, “Do any ladies have two hair ties we can use as rings? We’ve got to get these two married.” 

Finally, the best man realized he left the rings in the glove box of his truck. After the wedding, I took a few pictures with the wedding party, and I said to the bride, “I’ll see you guys at the reception.”

And to my shock, she said, “It’s at the country club, and it’s by invitation only. Sorry preacher, we didn’t send you one.”

“Preacher” huh? … okay then…

That’s when I realized I was simply a necessity so they could use the church for a photo-op. Needless to say I was so happy to get away from them that I didn’t care they didn’t even tip me.

Jesus didn’t have to deal with modern wedding planners and cameras, but he knew how some people act when they are the center of attention. The Gospel reading centers on a wedding with some dramatic characters too… In that setting, people were vying for the best seats at the reception because it made them feel important. 

But Jesus had a very different view of weddings: Open the reception to all!  

However, some people resist his inclusivity. 

We see the resistance to openness in the Gospel reading. Jesus went to a dinner feast, and he noticed guests vying for the most important seats. Since Jesus was the guest of honor, it’s possible they argued who should sit next to him. 

So, he confronted their competition. He opened Emily Post’s etiquette book and flipped to the chapter on weddings. Sometimes people forget the rules, so Jesus reminded them where they should sit.

“Do not take the best seats at the head table. If so, you invite embarrassment when someone attends and you have to move.”

That sounds like good practical advice. However, there’s something more because Luke said it was a parable. Jesus didn’t tell parables for behavior modification; he focused on matters of the heart. Jesus wanted to invite everyone to the Kingdom of God, and this parable is no different. 

From the beginning to the end of Luke’s Gospel, there is a consistent theme where God invites outsiders into the kingdom. When Luke wrote his Gospel, the church was on the brink of a split. Acts chapter fifteen describes the tension. Some early Jewish Christians did not think non-Jews were welcome in the community of faith. 

We’ve all met those people before. If you do not meet their standards, or you’re not part of their clique, you are not welcome at the altar rail. 

Not everyone excludes the marginalized: Some holy people embrace them. 

There’s a contrast between those who exclude people and the ones who open the party to all.

An open invitation was difficult for some highly religious people to embrace because change scared them, and change put their power at risk. 

However, Jesus settled, once and for all, the question of discrimination in the church: He said, “Come to me all who are burdened, and I will give you rest.”

The measure of our faith is not how we welcome someone into our congregation when they meet our expectations. Rather…

Our measure of faith is how we treat our members and our clergy, after they fail, and disappoint us.  

Jesus calls us to the latter. He said, “Go out and invite the poor, the physically disabled, and the blind.” In essence, do not discriminate, invite all people to God’s table, and make room for the ones society discards. 

One thing I appreciate about the Episcopal Church is our compassion for the marginalized. This parable speaks to us as Episcopalians to remain faithful to our vocation of mercy and inclusion.

Also, I’m proud of St. Matthew’s. I’m thankful that you allow me to stand at the altar on Sundays. We are a church that invites the poor, disabled, and blind. Those are spiritual conditions, yet we choose to love, anyway. 

People talk about us, and how we allow sinners in our church, and how we serve them communion.

Those, my friends, are badges of honor, wear them with pride, because we, like the one in the parable, invite all to be fed here.

Now, back to my wedding experiences. It’s not a secret (especially if you’ve read my poetry) that I’m a hopeful romantic. And I’ll confess that every so often I’ve played matchmaker. That happened with a friend from the Army. He worked for me as a chaplain assistant. He became family and ate dinner at my house three or four nights a week. 

I played matchmaker, and somehow it worked. When they got engaged, they asked me to preside at their wedding. They were curious about the BCP and wanted to understand the theology behind the wedding liturgy.

Then he asked me, “Sir, will you be my priest, my best man, and my guest of honor at the wedding?”

That moment humbled me because friendship and love welcomed me (someone of a different race and culture) to the head table as family.  

During the ceremony, I said the liturgy, then asked myself to hand myself the rings. (Unlike Mr. “I left them in the truck,” I didn’t lose them). We finished the wedding, I blessed them, and a decade later they are stronger than ever.

When the time came for the best man’s speech, I told a funny story about the time when he wrecked a Humvee, and got away with it. Then I spoke about the core value of loyalty. Then I said, “You invited me here because we’re family; and race, religion, and politics are not barriers for loyalty and love.” 

So, at one wedding the family did not even invite me to eat their food. At another, I was at the head table as their guest of honor.

Some weddings do not need invitations; thanks be to God. 

Amen. 

Sermon Proper 17, posted by Rian Adams