The 17th Sunday after Pentecost - Many Called, Few Chosen?

“Many are called, but few are chosen.”  I'm not so fond of the king in Jesus' parable from Matthew's gospel.  In fact, I not inclined to want to be part of the world of the parable either. This world is populated with socially impolite folk who ignore the king's invitation to a lavish wedding banquet. It seems as if the “save the date” cards had been sent and now the official invitations were carried in person by the king's servants to the invitees.  Some of these ungrateful, foolish folk had better ways to spend their time.  Others, in a gesture of contempt, mistreated and murdered the staff who brought the invitations.

Then the heat gets turned up a notch when the king responds in kind.  After ordering his troops to kill his contemptuous subjects, he sends out immediate invitations to everyone in the street.  His servants rounded up everyone they can find, probably calling, “Come to the wedding banquet for the son of the king.”  Both “good and bad” folks responded.  But something was still unsettled in this king's mind.  Clearly a detail person, he needed to check to see whether all those folks gathered from the street were dressed properly.

One poor unfortunate person was not wearing a wedding garment and got expelled in a rather brutal fashion from the banquet. Then Matthew reported Jesus summarizing the state of affairs:  “Many are called, but few are chosen.”

This very unpleasant parable comes at the end of a series of three parables near the end of Jesus' ministry.  Matthew reported that Jesus came to the temple in Jerusalem and overturned the tables of the money changers and those who sold doves.  These folks were cheating the poorest of the Temple worshippers.  Then in a verbal altercation with the temple authorities he told them that children praised God better than they did.  After spend the night in Bethany, he returned to the Temple in Jerusalem to teach.  On the way from Bethany, he was hungry and cursed a fig tree that had no fruit. Finally, he entered the temple and began to teach.  We should not be surprised that the temple leaders approached him and questioned his authority.

The past two Sundays we have heard the first two parables he told:  first, the parable of the two sons, one of whom obeyed his father even when he said he wouldn't and, then, the parable of the wicked tenants in the vineyard.  Now today we heard about the angry king who dragoons guests for his son's wedding banquet.  Did those authorities listening to Jesus think, “Enough already, get out of our faces?”  Well, Matthew reported this response: “Then the Pharisees went and plotted to entrap [Jesus] in what he said.”  Next week we will hear exactly how they question him, so he might misspeak, bringing the wrath of the Roman rulers down on him.

But that's next week.  Right now we have to deal with this parable Jesus told when he seemed to be in an angry, grumpy mood.  Matthew makes it clear the religious authorities understood Jesus was criticizing them.  But they were afraid of his popularity with the common people at the moment.

Neither the world of the parable nor Jesus' world could be called harmonious.  The term “class warfare” is being flung into political speech these days.  It could certainly apply to the conflict we are witnessing to as we hear (or read) this part of the Matthew gospel.  And we know how it will end.

“Many are called, but few are chosen.”  I think I understand how Jesus was using this parable to spar with those in the religious establishment of the Temple who questioned his authority.  But I certainly struggle with a theology that says God saves just a few people, while condemning most folks to an eternity away from the divine glory.  The Rob Bell book, “Love Wins,”—which a group of us are reading and discussing right now—suggests that salvation will be for many more than “a few.”

The only way I can understand how this parable speaks to us today is to find within myself parts of all the guests.  Sometimes I may ignore what God seems to want.  Sometimes I may actively oppose it. Occasionally I will respond, “Yes, God,” but I may then discover I am unprepared when I should have known better.  If we are honest with ourselves, we will surely find ourselves as unworthy of a banquet invitation to God's holy reign as any of the guests in the parable.

That thought is truly a downer—so what hope have we?  What about God's grace?  The three gospels—Matthew, Mark, and Luke—all address this concern with the image of a camel trying to go through the eye of a needle.  Here is how the 19^th chapter Matthew presents it:  [Jesus said,] “Again I will tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich [and I would add also 'or sinful'] to enter the kingdom of God.  When the disciples heard this, they were greatly astounded, and said, 'Then who can be saved?' But Jesus looked at them and said, 'For mortals it is impossible, but for God all things are possible.'”

Our hope in Christ, our faith that God desires our salvation—eternally living in God's glory—these primarily do not rest on our always resisting sin and simply living a pure and holy life.  As human beings we are not able—even when we try to!  Instead, our hope and our faith rest on the promise of God's saving grace, “for God all things are possible.”