@Nenya and others have touched on what I agree is an interpretation often heard in evangelical circles, and perhaps elsewhere too - that the wedding garment represents the righteousness of Christ that we must be clothed in to inhabit the Kingdom. While I can see why people might not accept a) the "OR ELSE" part of the equation and b) the "so pray the 'sinner's prayer' right now" rider, could this metaphor nevertheless be a helpful one or are there deeper objections to it?
I think it's too narrow rather than wrong as such.
To arrive without wedding clothes signifies to me that this guest is not yet ready for the Kingdom, still adhering to the old and not the new.
That’s how it seems to me too, and I think that fits with the parable as a whole being aimed at the scribes and Pharisees, the Jerusalem establishment.
Yes! Possibly worse than being unprepared: the ill-dressed guest might have been seen to be perfectly confident in the suitability of their attire... dressed in their own self-righteousness. Which, as we know from Isaiah, is like unto skidmarked gitch. Symbolically, the ill-dressed guest sailed confidently into the feast in their bacon-striped boxers.
Tbh I've never been that fond of the allegorical interpretation of the wedding robe symbolizing Christ's righteousness. But perhaps in some way, this metaphor for divine grace somehow hit the scribes and Pharisees hard, such that they immediately began to plot to entrap him.
@Leaf, @TurquoiseTastic, @Nick Tamen, I've also wondered about the need to embrace the new inwardly and outwardly, thinking about an earlier parable in Matt 9: 9-17 on the new wine needing to go into new wineskins because it will burst the old wineskins. (Out here in very remote areas of the Karoo, subsistence farmers still use cured goat hides or ostrich leather for storing wine matured with wild honey and the fermenting liquor would certainly burst any brittle older hides.)
One of the points made in this earlier parable is the new freedom from needing to fast by rejoicing in the bridegroom's presence, the older obligations and striictures falling away. Putting on newness and entering into the spirit of the occasion.
@Nenya and others have touched on what I agree is an interpretation often heard in evangelical circles, and perhaps elsewhere too - that the wedding garment represents the righteousness of Christ that we must be clothed in to inhabit the Kingdom. While I can see why people might not accept a) the "OR ELSE" part of the equation and b) the "so pray the 'sinner's prayer' right now" rider, could this metaphor nevertheless be a helpful one or are there deeper objections to it?
I think it's too narrow rather than wrong as such.
Yes, I agree. For me it can feed far too easily into the binary "you're in, you're out" narrative.
I'm afraid I think that, as with the rest of Matthew's gospel, whether one is in or out is exactly his point. He is exploring this in the context of a Christian community in the process of differentiating itself from the larger and (until the fall of the second temple, at least) more powerful Jewish community. So, anti-semitism, or at least "we are not Jewish, and the Jews don't have the status they think they do" is absolutely the point.
In that context, I really do wonder about the last few verses. They seem to me to be such a screaming handbrake turn that it is hard not to see them as pure editorialising, aimed at his audience, or rather those he wanted to define very firmly as being outside his audience.
For a modern audience, I would focus more on the turning of the table of expectations in terms of who is and is not invited for the feast, the lack of insistence on the right clothing etc.
What to do with "many are called but few are chosen", I have no idea. It has no place in my understanding of God's love at all.
I'm afraid I think that, as with the rest of Matthew's gospel, whether one is in or out is exactly his point. He is exploring this in the context of a Christian community in the process of differentiating itself from the larger and (until the fall of the second temple, at least) more powerful Jewish community. So, anti-semitism, or at least "we are not Jewish, and the Jews don't have the status they think they do" is absolutely the point.
In that context, I really do wonder about the last few verses. They seem to me to be such a screaming handbrake turn that it is hard not to see them as pure editorialising, aimed at his audience, or rather those he wanted to define very firmly as being outside his audience.
For a modern audience, I would focus more on the turning of the table of expectations in terms of who is and is not invited for the feast, the lack of insistence on the right clothing etc.
What to do with "many are called but few are chosen", I have no idea. It has no place in my understanding of God's love at all.
It doesn't even fit with what has just preceded it, as it would imply that the multitude of guests are the many and all but the bloke in the wrong shirt are the few.
A left field interpretation then might be that it can be taken to be arguing against the idea that "few are chosen" - one can interpret it as saying "here are your supposed 'few chosen' - absolutely everyone. You can only exclude yourself, by not accepting the invitation in the spirit in which it is offered."
In this sense the wrong shirt man is much like the people who made excuses not to come at all.
You can only exclude yourself, by not accepting the invitation in the spirit in which it is offered."
In this sense the wrong shirt man is much like the people who made excuses not to come at all.
This is along the lines of what we heard this morning (among other things)—that the lack of a wedding robe indicated some resistance to entering completely into the spirit, and the community, of the feast.
Also, I don't think that "once booted out of the feast" means "permanently booted out of the feast." Assuming that the outer darkness is outside the city walls, it's not even that far away from the feast. If the badly-dressed guest fixed his attitude, got his shit together, dressed appropriately and went to the king's feast and repented, wouldn't the king be glad to have him back?
As a corollary to CS Lewis' observation about hell: the doors of the feast are not locked from the outside.
We had the same sermon on this passage twice today and I am still not much wiser.
Plenty of talk about what it is Not. The king does not equal God. The story is not to be seen as an allegory.
The point to take away and think about was how we as ordinary human beings might react to the various invitations we might receive, whether to a special occasion like a wedding, or a routine request - we need to consider, make an informed judgement about the situation, and act accordingly.
That sounds a bit like the sermon I heard about on the feeding on the five thousand where the preacher said the take-away point was "always pick up your litter after a picnic"...
You can only exclude yourself, by not accepting the invitation in the spirit in which it is offered."
In this sense the wrong shirt man is much like the people who made excuses not to come at all.
This is along the lines of what we heard this morning (among other things)—that the lack of a wedding robe indicated some resistance to entering completely into the spirit, and the community, of the feast.
I put it this way. You can be at the party but not be a part of the party.
A left field interpretation then might be that it can be taken to be arguing against the idea that "few are chosen" - one can interpret it as saying "here are your supposed 'few chosen' - absolutely everyone. You can only exclude yourself, by not accepting the invitation in the spirit in which it is offered."
In this sense the wrong shirt man is much like the people who made excuses not to come at all.
I think you're on the money here. I mean, in the context of the parable "those who are chosen" is basically everybody left in the hall--all the scaff and raff the servants brought in, whether you think the king clothed them or not. They are chosen simply by virtue of being there, which pretty much wasn't their choice at all but the king's (or the servants', or chance, or ...). Being chosen in this sense is a pretty low bar to clear, not sure you can avoid it except by deliberately doing something.
That sounds a bit like the sermon I heard about on the feeding on the five thousand where the preacher said the take-away point was "always pick up your litter after a picnic"...
This reminds me of an alternative gathering we used to have some years ago when those of us in the queer communities of Cape Town would hold a Widows and Orphans Picnic on Christmas Day for those who weren't welcome in churches or at home, who couldn't take their partners with them, who'd lost spouses nobody had recognised, or who had been disowned by families. Christmas, like Easter, is often a very lonely time for LGBTQ+ people. We'd all meet up in a forest clearing just below Table Mountain, drag queens, cross-dressers and leather bikers, put out our rugs and shared food, toast one another (mostly with fruit juices because some were in recovery) and mention those we'd lost to suicide or addiction during the year, remember those who had died of AIDS, sympathise with those who'd had break-ups they couldn't talk about in their workplaces, tell jokes and just relax. It was bitter-sweet and the impression I still have is of the gentleness and over-catering, that we all wanted to feed one another to make up for our unwantedness elsewhere. In the late afternoon, straight couples would come past dog-walking as we were tidying up and clearing away litter, and they'd say that it looked like fun, was anybody welcome to join? We'd smile and say unfortunately it was a private gathering.
It wasn't that we were excluding or that you had to earn the right to be there, but you had to have some clue about what was going on and why.
A left field interpretation then might be that it can be taken to be arguing against the idea that "few are chosen" - one can interpret it as saying "here are your supposed 'few chosen' - absolutely everyone. You can only exclude yourself, by not accepting the invitation in the spirit in which it is offered."
In this sense the wrong shirt man is much like the people who made excuses not to come at all.
I think you're on the money here. I mean, in the context of the parable "those who are chosen" is basically everybody left in the hall--all the scaff and raff the servants brought in, whether you think the king clothed them or not. They are chosen simply by virtue of being there, which pretty much wasn't their choice at all but the king's (or the servants', or chance, or ...). Being chosen in this sense is a pretty low bar to clear, not sure you can avoid it except by deliberately doing something.
I'll vote for solved then if thee and me from very different places in the Views of Scripture spectrum agree.
I'd add - as @ThunderBunk has alluded to, Matthew adds the bit about "The rest seized his servants, mistreated them and killed them" - which appears to be aimed at the Jewish religious authorities. Luke doesn't have that.
Luke also doesn't have the interesting bit at the end.
I find it interesting, then, that a lot of commentaries I've heard on this do major on that Matthew ending, usually in the sense of using it to restrict who is saved.
@MaryLouise Thank you for your story about the Christmas Picnic. My wife and I had sponsored a similar picnic for lonely people in our community on Christmas day. We are a small community, but we have many international students who cannnot hop on a plane and get home for the holidays. Nowadays, the international student body sponsors the meals. All are still welcome.
Comments
I think it's too narrow rather than wrong as such.
@Leaf, @TurquoiseTastic, @Nick Tamen, I've also wondered about the need to embrace the new inwardly and outwardly, thinking about an earlier parable in Matt 9: 9-17 on the new wine needing to go into new wineskins because it will burst the old wineskins. (Out here in very remote areas of the Karoo, subsistence farmers still use cured goat hides or ostrich leather for storing wine matured with wild honey and the fermenting liquor would certainly burst any brittle older hides.)
One of the points made in this earlier parable is the new freedom from needing to fast by rejoicing in the bridegroom's presence, the older obligations and striictures falling away. Putting on newness and entering into the spirit of the occasion.
Yes, I agree. For me it can feed far too easily into the binary "you're in, you're out" narrative.
In that context, I really do wonder about the last few verses. They seem to me to be such a screaming handbrake turn that it is hard not to see them as pure editorialising, aimed at his audience, or rather those he wanted to define very firmly as being outside his audience.
For a modern audience, I would focus more on the turning of the table of expectations in terms of who is and is not invited for the feast, the lack of insistence on the right clothing etc.
What to do with "many are called but few are chosen", I have no idea. It has no place in my understanding of God's love at all.
It doesn't even fit with what has just preceded it, as it would imply that the multitude of guests are the many and all but the bloke in the wrong shirt are the few.
A left field interpretation then might be that it can be taken to be arguing against the idea that "few are chosen" - one can interpret it as saying "here are your supposed 'few chosen' - absolutely everyone. You can only exclude yourself, by not accepting the invitation in the spirit in which it is offered."
In this sense the wrong shirt man is much like the people who made excuses not to come at all.
As a corollary to CS Lewis' observation about hell: the doors of the feast are not locked from the outside.
Plenty of talk about what it is Not. The king does not equal God. The story is not to be seen as an allegory.
The point to take away and think about was how we as ordinary human beings might react to the various invitations we might receive, whether to a special occasion like a wedding, or a routine request - we need to consider, make an informed judgement about the situation, and act accordingly.
I put it this way. You can be at the party but not be a part of the party.
I think you're on the money here. I mean, in the context of the parable "those who are chosen" is basically everybody left in the hall--all the scaff and raff the servants brought in, whether you think the king clothed them or not. They are chosen simply by virtue of being there, which pretty much wasn't their choice at all but the king's (or the servants', or chance, or ...). Being chosen in this sense is a pretty low bar to clear, not sure you can avoid it except by deliberately doing something.
This reminds me of an alternative gathering we used to have some years ago when those of us in the queer communities of Cape Town would hold a Widows and Orphans Picnic on Christmas Day for those who weren't welcome in churches or at home, who couldn't take their partners with them, who'd lost spouses nobody had recognised, or who had been disowned by families. Christmas, like Easter, is often a very lonely time for LGBTQ+ people. We'd all meet up in a forest clearing just below Table Mountain, drag queens, cross-dressers and leather bikers, put out our rugs and shared food, toast one another (mostly with fruit juices because some were in recovery) and mention those we'd lost to suicide or addiction during the year, remember those who had died of AIDS, sympathise with those who'd had break-ups they couldn't talk about in their workplaces, tell jokes and just relax. It was bitter-sweet and the impression I still have is of the gentleness and over-catering, that we all wanted to feed one another to make up for our unwantedness elsewhere. In the late afternoon, straight couples would come past dog-walking as we were tidying up and clearing away litter, and they'd say that it looked like fun, was anybody welcome to join? We'd smile and say unfortunately it was a private gathering.
It wasn't that we were excluding or that you had to earn the right to be there, but you had to have some clue about what was going on and why.
I'll vote for solved then if thee and me from very different places in the Views of Scripture spectrum agree.
Am with you on that
Luke also doesn't have the interesting bit at the end.
I find it interesting, then, that a lot of commentaries I've heard on this do major on that Matthew ending, usually in the sense of using it to restrict who is saved.