10-13-17 - In or Out?

Jesus' parables often end with a tag line; this one's is: "For many are called, but few are chosen.”
I guess this refers to the banquet hall being full of people who were invited without regard to their suitability, to be evaluated and sorted out later. It’s not much comfort, is it, to think that just being in the room doesn’t guarantee inclusion in the household of God.

Are we “in?” Do we want to be? Are we actually at the party, or just hanging out on the sidelines (or on the rope line hoping to be waved in)? Put another way, are we lukewarm church-goers or passionate Christ-followers? I've heard that an Episcopal version of this verse is, “Many are cold, but few are frozen.” What is our temperature at this feast?

Today try to imagine yourself at a feast, a celebration, whatever that looks like for you. The room is crowded. Where are you? Near the table, hugging a wall somewhere, or in between? Why are you where you are? Where is Jesus in that room? Can you have a chat with him? (It's one way to pray...)

I’d like to believe we are both called and chosen; I’ve never held to doctrines like predestination or election. At the very least, I believe we are all invited, and we all have a choice to be present to the feast or pass it by. I hope you pull up a chair and pick up a fork.

I end this week with a hymn I wrote some years ago to go with this gospel reading.
(If you want to sing it in your head, I put it to the tune of hymn 544, Duke Street, "Jesus shall reign where'er the sun")

Clothed in Holiness

Clothed in holiness, bathed in glory, Born anew in sacred story.
From north and south, from west and east, Saints throng to your wedding feast.

Send out the heralds, the banquet waits, Leave your distractions, don’t be late.
The master calls, the feast prepared of food divine and wine so rare.

If the invited will not come Send out the word to deaf and dumb
All who are sick, lame, hopeless, lost Called by the host who spares no cost.

And if your clothes are ragged, old, New garments spun of finest gold
Are giv’n to all who heed the call: This invitation is for all.

So in we pour, all sorts, all kinds, The least in front, the first behind.
No class or label can divide This Bridegroom from his chosen bride.

Clothed in holiness, bathed in glory, Born anew in sacred story.
From north and south, from west and east We throng into our wedding feast.