COMING TO THE BANQUET

A sermon given on Sunday, October 11, 2026

by the Rt. Rev. Alan M. Gates, Bridge Pastor

It’s all about the Kingdom, and it’s all about excuses.

A man throws a big party, and the invited guests disdain the invitation.  Why would they do such a thing?  In the parable which we have just heard from Matthew’s gospel [22:1-14], we are told only that those who were invited to the banquet went off to their farms and businesses.  But Luke’s parallel account [14:16-24] gives us a little more detail.  It turns out, they all had excuses.  One says, “I have bought a piece of land, and I must go out and check on it; sorry, can’t come.”  Another says, “I have just bought five yoke of oxen, and I need to get them working; accept my regrets.”  And another says, “Oh, sorry.  I just got married, so really, I can’t join you.”  Decent excuses?  You decide!

The offering of excuses is deep in our human nature.  It started at the dawn of Creation, apparently.  “Oh no, Lord,” said Adam, “I didn’t mean to disobey you.  It was just that woman you gave me – she tricked me into it.”  Eve, of course, blamed the snake.  Or how about Moses: “Gee, Lord, I’d really love to be your spokesman and lead your people out of slavery, but I’ve got this bummer of a speech impediment.”  Excuses, excuses ….

Or how about Aaron, and that little episode with the golden calf? We heard this morning how Aaron actively directed the melting down of jewelry, and “formed it in a mold, and cast an image of a calf.”  Then he built an altar before the calf.  But just a few verses after this morning’s passage, when Moses returns and demands an explanation, Aaron says: “Well, you see Moses, while you were gone, they all gave me their gold jewelry, and I threw it in the fire, and out came this calf!” [Ex 32:24, emphasis added] (Note how closely related the passive voice is to our excuse making!  “The plate got broken.”  “Mistakes were made.”)

Throughout the Scriptures, throughout our lives, making excuses is as common as breathing.  We get started when we are very young.  “I couldn’t turn in my homework because the dog threw up on it!”  Our capacity for making excuses is limited only by our imagination.

Whenever I hear today’s parable, I remember a song I learned in my youth:

I cannot come to the banquet, don’t trouble me now;

I have married a wife, I have bought me a cow.

I have fields and commitments that cost a pretty sum.

Don’t trouble me now, I cannot come!

I’ve never forgotten the song.  It portrays so well how it’s not that we don’t want to come to God’s banquet.  Of course we do!  It’s just that, well … we’re just so busy, aren’t we?

Preparing for that heavenly banquet, which is to say, being faithful disciples and recognizing what is required of us – this is what today’s Gospel parable is about, including that strange, harsh ending.  We respond to God’s free invitation by putting on the “garment” of discipleship.  A changed and converted life, full of praise and good deeds – such a life is the “clothing” appropriate to wear to the Great Banquet.  As one writer has put it:

“The man without the wedding garment represents the person who answers God’s call, but makes no effort to show by his behavior that he has indeed responded.  The wedding garment symbolizes a willingness to accept God’s invitation and the intention to do what is necessary to be worthy of that invitation.”  [J. Dahmus, The Puzzling Gospels, p. 89]

You and I cherish the promise of eternal life with God.  The parable reminds us that we need to prepare for the feast.  No excuses.       

But our Christian belief tells us something else about the heavenly banquet.  It tells us that since the coming of Jesus, the kingdom has already begun. (The fancy name for this is “realized eschatology.”) We are already enjoying God’s feast.  Even in this life, we get a foretaste, the beginnings of a life of grace with God.  So where is that foretaste to be found?  Lots of places, I expect.  Let me suggest three, for starters: 

· in the goodness of God’s earthly creation;

·  in all the learning and growth experiences of our lives;

· and in the love and caring of human relationships. 

Again, the question is: are we too pre-occupied to accept God’s invitation to these parts of the banquet that we are able to enjoy right here and now?  What excuses do we offer?

What about the beauty of God’s Creation, which waits for us to feast on it with all our senses?  Are you taking the time to rejoice in it?  Will you drive the roadways this month in search of the brightest yellow tree?  Will you drive over to Park Hill Orchard and watch the sun rise?  And will you give your serious consideration to specific, concrete opportunities to support and steward that Creation, such as the ballot initiative before us here in the Commonwealth?  Unless we think there are too many other things demanding out attention: I cannot come to the banquet, don’t trouble me now …

Or, what about those opportunities for growth that present themselves to us?  Maybe a local book discussion group. Or committing yourself to the parish’s evening Compline discipline?  Or a workshop on something creative at a nearby community learning center.  Or just letting your kids or grandkids teach you how to use WhatsApp?  The content matters, of course, but so does the basic enjoyment of God’s gift of learning something new.  There was once a cartoon in The New Yorker which showed some American tourists dashing up the steps of the Louvre yelling, “Where’s the Mona Lisa?  We’re double-parked!”  If we are moving too fast, we miss out on the experiences that could most enrich our lives, and through which God can speak to us as disciples of Christ.  I cannot come to the banquet, don’t trouble me now …

Or what about that place where we might glimpse the heavenly banquet most fully, in the love and caring of human relationships?  And isn’t the church one beautiful place to nurture that.  Here at St. Philip’s you can volunteer to help fill Power Packs; or join the devoted crew of Take & Eat as they prepare and deliver hot meals for those who need them; or care for one another at coffee hour and beyond; or find avenues to stand and advocate for matters of faith and conscience in the public sphere, as our parish social justice commission calls them to our attention.  There are so few places in our culture where multiple generations come together.  Church is one.  It is a locus for incarnated love in Christian community.

Now, if you are like me, you tend to procrastinate about tending the relationships which nourish us. I’ll call my sister next week. I’ll attend that community dinner next month. When will we learn that “later” can sometimes be too late, regardless of our excuses?  That the phrase “too busy” might not describe a life of virtuous labor – it might describe priorities out of whack.  “Too busy,” if today’s Gospel parable is correct, might even describe a state of separation from God.

          I cannot come to the banquet, don’t trouble me now …

          I have fields and commitments that cost a pretty sum,

          Don’t trouble me now, I cannot come!

Finally, because the world weighs so heavily on our hearts these days – I want to recognize that sometimes it is not excuses or being too busy that keep us from attending God’s banquet.  Sometimes we are just too overwhelmed by the troubled world to imagine enjoying its blessings. 

The world is hurting. It is, indeed, our absolute obligation to know when and where God’s people are suffering.  We must pray, and advocate, and be generous in response.  And then …, it is also right and good for us to step back, to appreciate whatever safety and resources with which we have been blessed – the enjoyment of which is itself a kind of Prayer of Thanksgiving, by which we are restored for further service.  Even in the midst of trials and crises – perhaps especially then – do not miss those signs of God’s kingdom around us.

Dear friends:  Where in your life are there signs of God’s Kingdom.  And where, in your life, are you making excuses and missing the invitation?  Feasting with God is a serious matter.  Know that you are invited to a banquet of intimate fellowship and eternal life.  Know that your presence is earnestly desired.  In how you live, in how you love, answer that invitation, without excuse, even now.

In Jesus’ Name.  Amen.