It is widely recognized that the pace of living in Silicon Valley is frenetic. Whether it is caused by that entrepreneurial atmosphere, the long commutes, parents who both work outside the home, or the extra obligatins we take on, we just tend to be very busy here. Often there are two or more things we feel obligated to do at the same time. Thursday October 6th I had an invitation to lunch in Salinas--it was my Colleague group that meets from 1 to 5--and an invitation to dinner in San Francisco, with the School for Deacons. I had realized a month ago that I really couldn't go to both of those events--and they were both important to me--but I waited until the Tuesday to decide which one to cancel out of. Have you ever done something like that?

Saying that "I'm too busy to come to your home for the meal you are preparing" really means, you are not important to me, or not important enough for me to make time for you. What a surprise that Jesus has told a parable about this very situation! Because St. Matthew's version begins with a king giving a wedding feast for his son, we may not identify with it immediately. But there are two other versions of the same story. In the Gospel of Luke, it is simply a man giivng a banquet, and his guests give excuses that are translatable to our lives: I havve bought a building and must go to the closing; I have bid on a new manufacturing process and must go to a meeting; I have just gotten married and am expected at home. The same story is also told in the Gospel of Thomas, where all four guests cite financial transactions as their reasons for not coming.

Then again, I wonder how many of us have been the host, preparing a dinner for guests who didn't come? This has certainly happed to me several times in my life, and it left me feeling unworthy and puzzled about what had really happened. In this parable, Jesus is saying that God has invited his chosen people to a great benguet, but they were too busy to come. They were preoccupied with the details of daily life, and didn't realize that they had turned down the most important invitation they would ever receive. St. Matthew is the only Gospel in which the host--the king--becomes enraged, and sends his servants out to kill the guests who didn't come. Most scholars agree that this is a later addition to the parable, by the author of the Gospel, reflecting the historiacl fact of the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 AD by the Roman army.

The meaning of the parable that Jesus told, centers in the guests who did come. They are not the privileged one, and not the righteous ones: they are the ordinary people crowding the streets of Jerusalem, good and bad, poor and sick, blind and lame. They did not expect to be invited to the banquet of a king, so they are delighted, and set aside every other obligation in order to be there. This metaphor of a great banquet given by a celebrity host, is one of the central symbols of salvation in the Bible. Both in the Hebrew scriptures, and in the New Testament, being saved means having a seat at God's feast. Whether it is the passover meal, or the festival of booths, or the feast of rich food and well-aged wines described by Isaiah (25:6), or the Last Supper, the picture is drawn of people sitting down together to enjoy an abundant goodness.

I feel certain this is the reason that Jesus got that reputation of being a glutton and a wine-bibber: he was delibertately acting out that picture, which speaks so powerfully of fellowship and laughter, of being accepted and being honored, of abundance and enjoyment. And he was showing who was on God's guest list for the feast: tax-collectors, fishermen, Romans, women, children, Pharisees, lepers, prostitutes, Samaritans, Syro-Phoenicians . . . it was a way of saying, you are all invited, and there is a place for each one of you at the feast God is preparing. Perhaps some people will turn down God's invitation: Jesus wept over the people of Jerusalem who turned away from this invitation or made light of it. But God has invited ALL. For this very reason, we are communicating a spiritual message to the diners who come to Our Daily Bread and to the guests who stay in the Rotating Shelter. We are saying, there is a place set for you at the feast God is preparing. You are worthy of a place at this feast. The same message comes in and through the celebration of Holy Communion: all are invited to the table of the Lord.

Yes, all are invited, but to receive Holy Communion there is a requirement of baptism. Likewise, in the parable, the guests must have a wedding robe. Many who read the parable find this bit about the robe very troubling and unjust--if the guests have just been brought in from the street, it is not fair to expect fancy clothes. Here is one of many places where a literal reading misses the point entirely. The wedding robe is a metaphor in itself, of the attitude with which one comes to the feast. If a person comes only to get something good for oneself, only to posses that place and eat that food, then she or he has no wedding robe. But if a person puts on an openness to listen and to share with God's other guests, and is ready to be a giver at this feast, as well as a receiver, then she or he does have a wedding robe. It is an attitude of non-possessiveness and non-competitiveness which creates that robe, and it enables us to recognize that we are connected to all of humanity, and indeed to the whole creation.

This attitude of non-possessiveness is especially characteristic of Native American cultures. We probably all know that the Native Americans of the 17th century were astonished when Dutch and English colonists wanted to buy land from them. They had never heard that land could be owned. Similarly, the Hebrew people believed that the land belonged to God, and human beings were merely allowed to use it, but not to own it. This year we are using a Native American theme for our stewardship drive, because many of their ideas about stewardship agree with and amplify the ideas we find in the Old and New Testaments.

I found a wonderful example of this in a book by a Cherokee teacher named Dhyani Ywahoo, called Voices of Our Ancestors. She says that when Cherokee "children argued about an object, it was removed and the children were encouraged to observe the sky. Elders reminded the children that placing attention upon an object and seeking to possess it, takes one outside the circle of harmony. The children were then invited . . . to look at the clouds. Attention was placed on an openness so large that one had no desire to possess it . . . .those who argued would be asked to assist at some task, to replace wanting thoughts, with giving thoughts." (page 118)

I wonder if this metaphor of the wedding feast is intended to have the same effect. The banquet hall of God is so vast, the talbe is so beautiful, the food so abundant, and the company of all sorts of people so interesting, that any desire to possess the table, or to control the food, vanishes in the sheer pleasure of being there. And a big part of that pleasure is the depth, diversity, and mystery of the conversation we share with one another. In the Native American liturgy which we used at General Convention in 2003, the opening words of the celebrant are: "we are all relatives", and the people respond, "as relative we gather, as relatives we pray."

These words make a claim similar to the claim of the wedding feast parable: God calls us into a community much larger than our families or tribes, much different than our nationality or our profession . . . following Jesus we are called to recognize eveery human being as a relative, and to seek the well-being of all.

There are some very practical down-to-earth implications of this parable.

First, our relationship with God must be our highest priority. The busy-ness our our daily lives must not be allowed to crown out our time for worship, nor our time sharing the feast with God's friends.

Second, we may stop worrying about whether we are worthy enough to have a place at the wedding feast. It's there for us, and we ourselves are the only ones who will prevent our using it.

Third, we need to ask ourselves whether we have given our attention primarily to things, to possession, or have we given our attention to relationships, to sharing, and to giving.

Finally, we might reflect on how we can welcome and include those who have not yet accepted God's invitation. Can we help them see how wide open the door is to God's feast? Can we diminish their anxieties, or smooth the path, or explain what kind of wedding robe God wants us to wear? Can we be people they would want to ssit with, sharing the abundance and the love of God's feast, which has already begun, and is experienced here at St. Thomas?

May God strengthen us in the ministry of welcoming our relatives to the feast we share.   Amen