( Luke 14:16-24 ) - [ Deutsch ]
In March of this year, I received a personal invitation from an acquaintance via Whattsap to her wedding, which is taking place in early July. I was very happy and accepted the invitation immediately.I thanked her for the beautiful invitation.
11 days ago I received an invitation on a Wattsap group from an unknown person to a “baby tea” that is planed for mid-July, 250 kilometers from my home. At first I was annoyed about this invitation. I started to think about excuses for not accepting the invitation. I don't even know the person who invited me, but I do know the parents who are looking forward to the coming of their baby.
Jesus is invited to a Sabbath meal by a leading Pharisee, presumably at noon after the service. He accepted the invitation. Other Pharisees are also present, watching him intently, which has often been interpreted as hostile. Through the conversation, Jesus talks about the ranking of the guests at a banquet, which is clearly regulated in the social context of that time: the most distinguished sits at the top. Jesus then turns directly to his Pharisaic host and once again goes into the priority of an invitation to dinner: the host should not invite his own kind, but people who are poor and disabled. He said: “Then at the resurrection of the godly, God will reward you for inviting those who can’t repay you.
One of the fellow guests confirms this view and pronounces a general beatitude for those who will sit at the table in the kingdom of God. But what exactly does that mean? Now Jesus responds with the parable of the banquet.
Luke 14:15-24 Parable of the Great Feast
A man sitting at the table with Jesus exclaimed, “What a blessing it will be to attend a banquet in the Kingdom of God!”
Jesus replied with this story: “A man prepared a great feast and sent out many invitations. When the banquet was ready, he sent his servant to tell the guests, ‘Come, the banquet is ready.’ But they all began making excuses. One said, ‘I have just bought a field and must inspect it. Please excuse me.’ Another said, ‘I have just bought five pairs of oxen, and I want to try them out. Please excuse me.’ Another said, ‘I just got married, so I can’t come.’
“The servant returned and told his master what they had said. His master was furious and said, ‘Go quickly into the streets and alleys of the town and invite the poor, the crippled, the blind, and the lame.’ After the servant had done this, he reported, ‘There is still room for more.’ So his master said, ‘Go out into the country lanes and behind the hedges and urge anyone you find to come, so that the house will be full. For none of those I first invited will get even the smallest taste of my banquet.’”
It is about a person who invited many guests to a banquet.
Let's imagine for a moment how that's going to be in these days. We are preparing a party, it should be a really nice get-together. A large community event or an important family celebration. We count and calculate: What can we afford? We order the room and we think about the order of the menu, the room, the decoration and the floral arrangements. Oh dear, and then the difficult consideration: who do I invite, who do I not, who do I absolutely have to invite because he or she recently invited me. How do I reconcile the difficult, unloved and dear relatives? Who do I count among my best friends? Then finally the guest list, the save-the-date cards, the WhatsApp messages and countless phone calls.
And weeks later, the time has finally come: the tablecloths are about to be laid, the flowers arranged, the candles lit. The restlessness in the heart, whether they will come and what it will be like when...? Although, we had spoken on the phone: you're coming, aren't you? And then?
There are always one or two that fail to come. Her face will be missed, her laugh, her anecdotes. They couldn't come, they were suddenly prevented, too ill, the husband can't be left alone, overwhelmed by his job, the children are too small, they're on vacation, a friend got married, the brother bought a sailing boat that needs to be tried out , or even worse: volunteering in the community or in a sports club. Something else was more urgent, more important. Wait a minute: there was something more important than me? A pang in the heart from the first refusal - but what happens when everyone doesn't come? Despite the invitation card, the emails and all their promises?
But while I'm starting to get really annoyed about these friends, I realize: One of them could well be me. Because I know their business very well. Not that cattle or fields are waiting for me. But that days are so full of tasks and things that still have to be done that I sometimes feel like I'm jumping from one thing to another. I know. And I know that many others often feel the same or something similar. There are the tasks that still have to be done for work – sometimes even after work. And then there's the doctor's appointment. And the children's appointments. And the marriage evening, which had to be canceled so often. Oh yeah, and the school wanted something too. Oh man, the dishes in the sink and the washing machine is still full of stuff. Sometimes you don't know where your head is. And then there comes this drowsy invitation to the house. No, really, that doesn't fit at all.
This description does actually not fit everyone. For some, days can get pretty long because there isn't much to do. An invitation to good fellowship would be just the right thing: finally being among people again. One would not say “no” to this invitation.
But for all those who know the feeling of the so-called rush hour of life, today's gospel story invites you to take a break. let yourself be interrupted Because if you just rush from task to task, you may miss the most important thing. Yes, that you miss life itself. Sometimes it's more important to make time to invite a good friend than to constantly create. And then you can experience that after a good evening together, you fall contentedly into bed. It doesn't matter whether the dishes have already been washed or not. Yes, sometimes it's good to let yourself be interrupted so as not to miss the best.
Why is Jesus telling the story? And who are we in it? What place should and do we want to occupy? Jesus tells about the kingdom of GOD - and he tells about everyday life as he experiences it. Just as we know him. We invite those whom we have always invited and who invite us in return. But what if the host is supposed to represent something of GOD? From GOD, who is disappointed if we don't follow his invitation to the festival, find something else more important than fellowship with him, our everyday business is more important to us than being full and happy in his presence? As I know Jesus, as he tells the story, he already knows exactly which questions will concern the theologically educated later on: They will ask how our everyday events are connected with the kingdom of GOD. Who is being compared to whom in the parables? And why are they told at all?
Jesus tells of joy and disappointment. The host really wants to celebrate. Jesus also wants to celebrate and have everyone at his table.
The last will be first - that is a promise and the bitter truth! In it I hear GOD'S promise of forgiveness for our sins, for the narrowness that holds us tight. At the same time I hear their powerful claim on our whole life. This kingdom of GOD's food is solid food, not easy to chew, not immediately digestible, but it fills you up and brings joyful deliverance to stand up for justice. It makes you want to taste and see more...
What is my place in this parable? Am I the hostess who waits and hopes and gets disappointed and then invites new people? Am I a belated guest who can hardly believe that I am really meant and suddenly find myself in a colorful and happy party? Or am I one of those who canceled: Something came up, an invitation like that can't be that important.
And the gospel tells us of the very best. From the very best invitation in life. Because Jesus tells this story and makes it clear: I Jesus am the one who invites you here. Jesus Christ sets his table for us and stands there with open arms: "You are cordially invited!" It's good if we let this invitation interrupt us again and again. For example, when the church bells call us to church service Sunday after Sunday. They tell us: God opens his arms and wants fellowship with you.
And the most fascinating thing: God's open arms have no borders. When his friends gradually refuse him, the host lets his servant move out again. He sends his servant to the highways and fences. In the end he sits together with the poor, the blind and the lame, the handicapped and the marginalized over bread and wine. What a picture if I imagine it that way. In these days, when people are standing up against exclusion and racism in many places, this picture shows us very clearly: God excludes no one. His invitation goes to all ends of the world. He does not differentiate between rich and poor, education or gender, skin color or origin. All people are equal before God.
His invitation to life applies to all of us: Come, because everything is ready. Good for those who trust him. Amen.