“No Shirt, No Shoes, No Salvation?”

Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost

October 11, 2026

Isaiah 25:1-9

Matthew 22:1-14

I don’t often do this, but today we’re going to go through this passage piece by piece because it’s a bit challenging and really frustrating. So, here goes. And you’re welcome to follow along in your pew Bibles or the Bible you have at home.

First, we need to review what came before today’s passage. Chapter 21 starts out with Jesus having his disciples bring him a donkey on which he rides into Jerusalem. The crowds gather around, crying out for salvation and praising him. When he gets to the Temple, he tosses the outer courtyard in anger at the corruption and injustice he sees at the expense of faithful people just trying to worship God.

The next day, he returns to the Temple to teach, but the chief priests and elders challenge his authority. He tells them the parable of a father with two sons—one who didn’t want to work but did it anyway; and one who said he would obey but did not. Jesus said that tax collectors and prostitutes—the very ones who did change their minds and obeyed would lead the religious leaders into God’s kindom.

He then tells a parable about a man who was a vineyard owner who leased the vineyard to tenants. When it came time for the harvest, he sent servants and even his own son to collect the owner’s portion of the harvest, but the tenants killed the son and servants. Jesus asked the leaders what the landowner should do, and they quickly chose vengeance and retribution. Their answer confirmed Jesus’ point that God’s kindom will be taken from them and given to those who are focused on producing good fruit rather than hate.

Then we come to today’s parable. Again, Jesus compares God’s kindom. But he does it differently. In the parable of the vineyard owner, the Greek is active: “The kindom of God is like…” But, today’s parable is passive: “The kindom of God has been compared to…” It’s not the same. And in the previous parable, Jesus calls the landowner a “man who owned a vineyard.” But, today’s parable references a “man-king.” A human king. As opposed to God. If we were to pop over to Isaiah 40:18, we’d read, “To whom then will you liken God, or what likeness compare with him?”

You see, we have been trained to see every parabolic king or landowner as God, and every son as Jesus. But what if that isn’t what’s happening here? We go on to learn that the man-king is throwing a wedding feast for his heir—the king-to-be. And while feasts are often used as examples of the feast-to-come, I encourage us to hold off on that assumption. Because this isn’t just any feast. It isn’t just any wedding. This is a political move.

The king has likely invited people who he thinks will boost his image and support his politics. Except, all those he invited found excuses to not go. That’s more than a social faux pas; it’s a rebellion. It’s treason. And it’s done by people who have the power and wealth to get away with it.

The man-king isn’t pleased. He’s their king. They have an obligation. He sends servants out to ‘insist.’ But their insistence isn’t well-received, and they are overpowered and killed. So far, the parable sort of reflects the previous one about the vineyard. The landowner sent servants, and the ungrateful tenants killed them in order to keep the harvest. But this is where the parables diverge.

Remember, Jesus asked the chief priests and elders what the landowner should do, and they said he should destroy the tenants and replace them with people who will fulfill their obligations. That was the wrong answer. But that is exactly what the man-king does in today’s parable. He destroys the original invitees and burns down their city. And it is into this dystopian reality that the outsiders from the lanes and byways are invited.

The man-king says the others weren’t worthy, so he sends servants to gather up anyone and everyone, good and bad, to come to the wedding. We can assume, I think, that the people brought in from the streets and lanes aren’t wealthy or powerful. But at this point, the king isn’t as concerned about ‘worthy.’ What he wants are good optics. He wants a full house. He wants to boast about having so many friends and supporters. And the people who come do so not because they want to but because they don’t see any other option.

He’s the king and has much more power than they do. He’s already destroyed the city beyond the castle gates. They are afraid, and they are hungry. So, they come with fear and trepidation.

They walk through the ashes of the city as a reminder of what happens if they disobey.

Much ink has been spilled in the process of trying to show how this broad invitation is God’s extensive invitation to non-Jews after the Jews denied the invitation. But this interpretation leads to a lot of bad theology and bad actions. Remember from 2 weeks ago, Jesus didn’t say the chief priests and elders would not enter God’s kindom; only that they would follow the truly transformed into it. Some try to use this kind of parable as an example of how God replaced the Jews with Christians. But that isn’t consistent with Scripture.

God doesn’t deny love or grace to God’s chosen people of Israel—not even when they get things wrong. Very wrong. Which is good news for the rest of us because that means God doesn’t deny us when we get things wrong, either. But back to our passage.

Upon arriving, the new guests are given the ‘proper attire’ for a wedding banquet, as would have been the custom. All except one person. One person refuses. One person does not comply. Is it ignorance? Is it civil disobedience? Is it protest? Is it an insistent denial of the man-king’s authority over them? Perhaps they simply cannot fathom a celebration as the smoke from beyond billows through the windows. They will not give up their identity for the ego of the maniacal, murderous king. So the king has them arrested and thrown out into the darkness—into the imagery we often associate with hell and death.

But what if that’s exactly what the guest wanted? What if that is what it looks like to live faithfully? What if being sent into outer darkness is just where they need to go to give hope to everyone else who finds ourselves there? Did you notice—when the king asked them why they weren’t wearing a wedding robe, the guest did not respond.

Again, if we turn to Isaiah 53:7, we read about the suffering servant of God standing silent before its shearers. And later, in Matthew 26:63, when Jesus is questioned by the Sanhedrin, he remains silent—just like the guest.

My theory is that Jesus is offering a parable about what others think God’s kindom is like. We should be used to this by now. We hear similar parables daily. Let us be clear that these comparisons are NOT faithful to God’s true kindom. God’s kindom doesn’t practice hate or vengeance or retribution. God’s kindom doesn’t destroy or cast out.

That’s us. That’s what humans do. A human king can never measure up to who God is because human kings often seek honor and praise and glory through terror and bullying. Any king who silences those who challenge them; who denies anyone their God-given right to life; who refuses care to the sick, the hungry, and the vulnerable; who manipulates the truth in order to make themselves look good—such a king cannot represent the God of love; the God of life; the God of the crucified Christ.

So, when we find ourselves in the presence of such a leader, will we cower in fear or stand in silence, refusing the play the games they have laid before us? Even if that means being cast into outer darkness, we can be assured that we are in good company. And the good news is that it is in those darkest nights where the stars shine the brightest. And the light of the world can show us a better way—a way of grace and hope and resurrection.

So let us not be afraid, dear friends. Hope is not dead. It’s simply out there, lighting up the darkness.

Pastor Tobi White

Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church

Lincoln, NE