The feast of the Triune God is a feast of welcome and restoration of the whole creation, starting now and continuing into the life to come, and you’re invited. Period.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost, Lect. 28 A
Texts: Isaiah 25:1-9; Psalm 23; Matthew 22:1-14

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

There’s only one question for you today: are you coming to God’s party?

It’s going to be glorious. David says the cups will overflow and the feast will be spread between enemies, it’s a reconciliation feast. Jesus says the feast celebrates the joining of the Son of God with the creation, and all can come. Isaiah says God’s feast starts here but continues beyond death, destroying death in the process, and it is for all peoples, a feast of rich food and well-aged wines. It sounds wonderful.

And you’ve got the invitation in your hands, embossed with the royal seal: “child of God, beloved of God, come to my party, eat and be filled with my goodness.”

So, are you coming or not?

You realize, don’t you, that we don’t have to read this whole parable, with all the destruction, right? You can stop early. If the invitees had come, there just would have been a party, a feast, a celebration. No one has to miss this feast, not in Isaiah or Psalm 23 or Jesus’ parable.

But, maybe you think it’s cheating to stop the parable early, when the meal’s ready, and all are told to come.

That’s fair. We should look at the painful parts of this parable.

The first invitees ignore the invitation, abuse and kill the people who came to get them. Their city is burned to the ground with everyone in it. One guy who comes in the second sweep rejects the robe provided for him and gets bound hand and foot, tossed into the outer darkness, where there’s weeping and gnashing of teeth. Many are called, but few are chosen, you say. That’s how the parable really ends.

Fine. Let’s consider that. Matthew says all these parables we’re hearing in these weeks were told by Jesus in the first days of Holy Week. And we can’t pretend these late parables aren’t filled with strong warnings of punishment by Jesus for those who don’t comply.

There are a couple possibilities. Jesus is under intense stress as he approaches Good Friday. He’s running out of time to teach, and knows he’s going to suffer horribly. At least half his disciples – the male half, since the women seem to acquit themselves much better – keep missing his point and misunderstanding his mission. Maybe he’s frightened they’ll never get it, so he fills his parables this week with threats to get their attention.

Or maybe he meant every word. Maybe Jesus really meant you don’t get second chances. You turn from God’s invite, and that’s it. You’re outside God’s grace and love. It’s a horrible thought, but it’s possible.

But if I can’t stop reading the parable early, you can’t stop reading early either.

If I have to read all the way to “many are called and few are chosen,” I insist you read all the way to the end of chapter 28, the end of Matthew. (While you’re at it, check out the other three Gospels in full, too.) You’ll going to see an entirely different picture. There may be mystery over why Jesus said these harsh things, but there’s absolutely no mystery about what Jesus actually did.

Because whatever Jesus meant to say with his threatening words in Holy Week, he does none of it when he rises from the dead. He does the opposite.

The king burns the city who rejected the wedding, and kills everyone? The Risen Christ sends his disciples back into the city to proclaim the Good News of the resurrection, even to those who rejected it before, in hopes that now they’ll come to the party. He insists they start with Jerusalem.

The king takes a guy and throws him into the outer darkness? Jesus, God-with-us, on Friday will allow himself to be bound hand and foot and thrown into that very outer darkness, where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth. And will bring back everyone from the darkness into resurrection life.

And “many are called, but few are chosen?” The Risen Christ sends the Holy Spirit at Pentecost and pours God’s grace and power over anyone who wants it, and then sends out those Spirit-filled ones to try and get to every person on earth. Christ chooses everyone.

There is something so simple and joy-filled about all of these late parables of Jesus.

But we obsess over the judgment parts. It’s as if we need to insist that the awful punishments threatened by the Son of God still apply, still must be accounted for, or else we despair about how God’s love in our human flesh would make such threats.

But why focus on those parts? Every single parable here starts with invitation and joy and can stop right there. If you just focus on that invitation and joy. If you hear Jesus’ loving voice saying, “come to me.” You’ll find a joy glorious to behold.

So – are you coming to God’s party or not?

It’s a party for here and for now. God’s clear about that. God intends the abundance of creation to be shared with all God’s children on earth, with all having enough to eat and drink, all sheltered, all whole, all happy. We’ve got more instructions than we need from God’s Word as to how we can help that feast happen here in this life. But if you don’t want to be at a feast with everyone, if you’re worried that if everyone’s cup runs over, yours might go dry, maybe it’s not your thing.

It’s a party for everyone, “good folks and bad folks,” Jesus says. David says your enemies are invited to God’s feast, too. Maybe that’s the dealbreaker. You only want to feast with God with your people.

Why reject Isaiah, though? Isaiah says the party’s going to keep going after you and I and everyone dies. Eventually, the party favor everyone gets is that no one ever has to leave the party. Death is now a blip, and the feast just keeps going. In even more raucous joy and celebration. For all people, Isaiah says.

In a moment, we’re going to have a feast.

It’s not exactly the same as these we’re hearing of. We sometimes call it a “foretaste of the feast to come,” a sign of what God’s feast will look like not only in the world to come, but if God’s way is done, in this world as well.

Because you and everyone are welcome to come and eat God’s very being, to be blessed by God’s undying love for you, to be forgiven and healed and made whole. Anyone here who wants to come to the feast can come. This feast reveals what God’s greater feast is meant to be, even on this earth. So we never turn people away.

Maybe this time, as you eat and drink, you can imagine the overfilled cups and groaning tables of the feast God intends for all on this planet, now and forever, and say, “yes, I really want to come to that party. And I want to help make sure everyone else is there, too.” Because Good News: the invitation has always been there for you. And for all.

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

Nothing in this life can separate you from God’s love in Christ. And of course, not even death itself.

Pr. Joseph G. Crippen
The funeral of Eunice Ruth Hafemeister

Texts: Romans 8:31-39; John 14:25-29; Isaiah 61:1-3

Beloved in Christ, grace to you, and peace in the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen

Paul’s promise to the Romans is the best news we could hear today.

Talking about the challenges and suffering of our lives and of the creation, he says: “nothing will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” And he specifically says even death can’t. Death cannot keep you from God’s love in Christ. And in his death on the cross and resurrection to new life, Christ made this absolutely clear and trustworthy and certain.

Today we carry our sister Eunice to her rest, and it’s tempting to focus only on this amazing promise: death cannot separate us from God’s love in Christ. So Eunice, who has died, is in God’s arms now, in the life to come. That’s what we came here to hear and trust.

Except it’s only part of the promise. And only part of the truth.

Paul included a whole lot of other things in the “nothing”: life can’t separate you from God’s love in Christ either, he said. What’s happening today can’t, what happens tomorrow can’t. Except for death, everything else on Paul’s list happens in this life. Paul’s promise is mostly for here. Here, you are always in God’s love.

So while Eunice absolutely is in the arms of God right now, that’s nothing new. Because life, and the present, and the future, and nothing in the whole creation could separate her from God’s love in Christ, she has always been in the arms of God.

And she knew that. She’d want you to know that you are, too.

Dear friends, this gift of God in Christ is for you now.

The promise of God’s peace Jesus makes in our Gospel today is for you and for now.

He says so specifically. He’s going away, but he wants those who trust in him to know that they will not be alone, they don’t need to be afraid of this suffering world, and they don’t need to have troubled hearts.

God is with them. So God is with you. And that peace that the world can’t give, because the world lives in selfishness and anxiety and fear, that peace from God is yours now. You can be confident in that.

If you knew Eunice you heard this witness from her.

Of course she was human like us. She had doubts and fears and anxieties, and I’m probably not the only one who talked with her about her God questions.

But she had a deep and abiding confidence that God loved her always, and loved this world. She lived her life fully in that confidence, traveling, going on adventures with friends and family, always being of service to God and others. She taught countless people and shared her wisdom and faith with them. She lived every minute of her nearly 97 years as gift from God and was a blessing to her huge family of siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles, and even more to her family she raised with Lester.

This is her witness she leaves behind for us: that life can be lived trusting God is with you, giving you peace and hope that makes this life worth living. And also peace and hope for the life that’s yours to come.

Today, Eunice is just where she trusted she would be, where she was confident God was taking her.

We grieve because she’s no longer here with us. But we grieve with joy for her.

And the witness of God’s Word is that you don’t need to be anxious about you or your life or this world, either. Nothing that has happened to you or will happen, no matter how painful or difficult, can keep God from loving you in Christ. And giving you peace through God’s Spirit.

Living in this trust, life becomes a blessing with a joy and hope that transforms you. Life becomes a gift to live. As Isaiah says, you get your faint heart, your faint spirit, strengthened in God’s love and you become like a great oak tree.

But don’t just take my word for it. Or Eunice’s. Or even Paul’s.

Christ gives you the Holy Spirit who speaks in your heart and teaches you what you need to know to find God’s peace in this life. Reminds you of God’s love when you doubt or are afraid. Listen for that Spirit. God’s Spirit lives in you so you’re not alone, and God’s love shapes your life here. And gives you confidence in a life to come that is yours.

Trust God on this. Where else do you think Eunice got all her faith and trust? She got it where we all get it, from God living in her. And God now lives in you.

Nothing in this life or the next can separate you from God’s love. Nothing. So live in that peace now. Until you, too, go to that wonder that is to come that Eunice now knows fully.

In the name of the Father, and of the + Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen