My wife and I just returned from celebrating our youngest son’s wedding on Nantucket Island in Massachusetts. Now, Nantucket is a very casual place, and so many of the wedding guests were dressed in, let’s say, alternative clothing. But unlike the king in today’s Gospel passage, I didn’t even consider banning them from the ceremony. Their style of dress simply didn’t bother me. The important thing was they were my son’s friends.
And so, if you’re like me, I suspect the parable we just heard might leave you feeling just a bit uncomfortable. We can’t help but feel a bit sorry for the poor fellow who got thrown out of the wedding banquet for not wearing the proper clothes. After all, the king had sent out servants to invite anyone who was available to attend the wedding...it didn't matter who you were or where you came from – “both bad and good” the Gospel says. But when the party begins, the kind of clothes you wear suddenly become a big deal.
Seems a bit odd, doesn't it? Well, this parable had long puzzled me, until I read a book by C. S. Lewis called “The Great Divorce.” Lewis’ book is a fascinating story, really an allegory, about our relationship with God and how Original Sin has driven a wedge between humanity and God.
In the book’s opening scene, several people are simply standing around in a large room which turns out to be heaven’s waiting room. Just beyond the other side of the door is the heavenly city, the New Jerusalem. It's the place they’ve always wanted to go to, but now that they’re there, they must accept that God has indeed saved them; that He has forgiven their sins and has a tremendous reward waiting for them.
So, where’s the difficulty? Well, for some of the people waiting in that room, the fact that God has done all this becomes a serious problem for them.
This is how Lewis sets it up: before leaving the room and stepping into heaven, everyone needs to put on "the armor of salvation. But some of them prefer their old, everyday clothes. One of them, actually, is very well dressed, but he's unwilling to remove the jacket of his achievements and accomplishments. Eventually he disappears into the small, dark hole of his egotism.
And then there’s a young man, standing in the corner with a slimy, red lizard perched on his shoulder. You get the sense that it represents some sin of lust. It turns out that this young man hates this creature but at the same time, it’s become so much a part of him that he refuses to knock it off his shoulder so he can put on the new armor.
When an angel approaches offering to kill the ugly thing, the young man resists, saying that if it is killed, he's not sure if he could survive. He hates it but he's not sure he can live without it. Urged on by the angel, trembling and fearful, he finally lets go of the lizard and cries out, "God help me! God help me!"
With that a fierce battle takes place, with the angel fighting the lizard; but then suddenly the reptile is turned into a glorious horse.Here is how the narrator in the story describes it:
What stood before us was the greatest stallion anyone had ever seen, silvery white, but with mane and tail of gold. The young man turned and leaped on the horse. Turning in his seat he waved a farewell, then nudged the stallion with his heels. And they both soar off, like shooting stars, toward the green mountains of heaven.
It’s really a great story. But what it tells us is that the young man finally clothed himself with Christ. Having nothing of his own, not even his past sins to cling to, he put his complete trust in God and traded his garment of shame for the robe of the King.
And isn't this precisely how St. Paul describes the sacrament of baptism? If we are baptized in Christ, says Paul, we must be clothed with Christ.
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| Parable of the Wedding Garment |
You see, today’s parable is really about a choice we all have: whether to be clothed in Christ or to be wrapped up in our own self-love. The king desperately wants to fill the hall for his son’s wedding, and so he invites many guests. Notice that the king’s only request is that his guests be there at the feast. But giving in to their own self-serving motives, they callously – murderously – decline the invitation. Their refusal isn’t simply disobedience to the king; it’s a repulsion of love, symbolized by the wedding.
The king desires our presence at the feast, not for his sake, but for ours. Rejecting him is to be caught up in our own self-love, to be so preoccupied with ourselves that we have no desire to enter into the love of others. Such self-absorption in the presence of a loving God is an affront to Him, to His Son, and to the covenant signified by the wedding. It’s this same self-absorption, this same willfulness, that causes the one guest to obstinately discard his wedding garment.
Of course, in our theology we also understand this parable as a reference to the Eucharist; indeed, every celebration of the Eucharist is the marriage of heaven and earth! Our Eucharistic celebration is both wedding feast and marriage, and continually challenges us. How do we approach this Eucharistic feast, and how do we participate in the marriage that follows?
We are called to support those immersed into the Paschal Mystery through the Sacraments.
We are called to invite others into a new relationship with Christ and his Church.
Finally, we are all called to immerse ourselves into the life and ministry of Christ in the Church.
And Like any good marriage, our life and ministry in the Church should grow and evolve over time.
Most of us here today can recall a time when there really were no lay ministries, either pastoral or liturgical, in the Church. The professional ministries were those of clergy and religious. There were two additional ministries – those of acolyte and lector – ministries that remain in use today but limited to adult males on the path to Holy Orders.
There might not have been lay ministries, but many men and women were involved in a number of apostolates – the Holy Name Society, the Knights of Columbus, different women’s sodalities. And there were many charitable organizations, run largely by laymen and laywomen, and functioning as the Church’s charitable arm. My how things have changed…especially in our liturgical ministries:
Now lay ministers – boys and girls, men and women – serve at the Altar;
Extraordinary Ministers of Holy Communion, who are baptized, confirmed Catholics, give our Lord’s precious Body and Blood to His people;
Readers proclaim God’s Word making Him present to all of us gathered here;
Ministers of Music make a joyful noise unto the Lord, leading us as we lift our hearts and voices;
Sacristans, the unsung ministers who set up and clean up after us clergy;
And those who meet and greet the faithful, who lead them and direct processions, who take up the collections, who simply do whatever they are asked to do.
Yes, some are called to exercise special roles before the Altar of God, but every one of us is expected to be a full, active and conscious participant in the Eucharistic celebration in word, song, gesture and response. And when each of us fulfills his or her unique role in the Eucharist, our Mass becomes a fine “wedding celebration,” a reflection of our union with Jesus Christ.
In the end, it is He, the Lord Jesus, who is the Bridegroom, and we, the Church, the Bride. He is the perfect spouse, the absolute right partner for us all. It is He alone who brings us to new and eternal life. It is He who makes of us family, adopted children of our heavenly Father, brothers and sisters to each other in Jesus Christ.
The Lord has readied a feast for us, but we must be ready to accept his invitation.
So, have you been called by Christ?
Yes, definitely.
Have you been invited to the banquet of heaven?
Yes, for God invites everyone.
Does it matter what you wear?
Not if you arrive already clothed with Jesus Christ.
"That I may come to the altar of God, to God, my joy, my delight." - Psalm 43:4
