“Catch Me!”

Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost

October 15, 2023

Children’s Message:

“How to be a Lion”—What is a lion like? What if I told you that a lion might not have to be that way?

We read a story about a king today, but it’s not a very nice king. I think we sometimes think God might get angry at us if we do something wrong. But I don’t think that’s the God Jesus tells us about—like a lion who doesn’t act like we expect a lion to act.

Let’s pray. Dear God, thank you for being more than we expect. Help us to trust you when we are afraid. Amen.

Message:

In his book, “Holy Sweat,” Tim Hansel tells of the day he and his son Zac were out in the country, climbing around on some cliffs. He heard a voice from behind yell, “Hey Dad! Catch me!” When he turned, he saw Zac soaring toward him. He had jumped first and yelled after. Becoming an instant circus act, Tim managed to catch him, both falling to the ground. When he found his voice, he gasped, “Zac! Why in heaven’s name did you do that?”

Zac simply said, “Because you’re my dad.” He knew his dad to be trustworthy, and so he trusted his dad to catch him.

This is the God we have come to know and love as we approach today’s reading. But the parable Jesus tells is not at all what we expect. True to form, his parables are never expected. They’re meant to confound, confuse, and upset the status quo. They’re meant to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable. But I have a hard time believing that Jesus’ parables are meant to terrorize. And that’s what this parable seems to do.

We have this king who sends out his servants to invite the people of the kingdom to his son’s wedding banquet. This imagery starts off with familiar elements that Jesus has used before to refer to God’s kingdom. A king. A son. A wedding. A banquet. And so we’re already primed to hear this parable as if God is the king, Jesus is the son, and the invitation has gone out to all of God’s children.

We also know that Jesus is talking to the chief priests and Pharisees. And the first big surprise comes when those invited to the banquet decline the invitation. That just isn’t done. Especially to the king. At this point, we’ve been taught that those who ignored the invitation symbolize the Jews who don’t believe that Jesus is Christ.

The gracious king tries again, sending the servants out once more to extend the invitation. Most ignore them, but some kill the servants—much like last week’s parable about the wicked tenants. But this is where the similarities end.

Today, the parable tells us the king sends out his soldiers to destroy the whole city in revenge. But was it really because of the murder of his servants, or because the people had the gall to deny his invitation? The king is sounding a bit petty and petulant.

Once again, he sends his servants out, this time to the outlying areas to invite strangers, wanderers, and the wayward to the banquet. And we’ve always focused on the generosity of the king to bring in the marginalized to the grand banquet. But these people have already seen what happens to those who deny the king’s invitation. And they are in no position to say no.

So they go. And the banquet hall is filled, just as the king had planned. His generosity overshadows his vengeance. And while the city burns, the people party. Until the king sees the one person not wearing the robes he provided. Why is this one not celebrating, he asks? But the person remains silent. So, the king has him bound and gagged and thrown out to the wolves.

This doesn’t sound like a father who would do anything and everything to catch us. This doesn’t sound like a God who is trustworthy, who we would call upon in our foolishness to rescue us from our own mistakes.

Bernie May tells a story similar to the first about a father who took his young son out and stood him on the railing of the back porch. He then went down, stood on the lawn, and encouraged the little fellow to jump into his arms. "I'll catch you," the father said confidently. After a lot of coaxing, the little boy finally made the leap. When he did, the father stepped back and let the child fall to the ground. He then picked his son up, dusted him off, and dried his tears.

"Let that be a lesson," he said sternly. "Don't ever trust anyone."

Let’s look at Jesus’ parable again with fresh eyes. It takes place immediately after last week’s reading. Jesus told a parable of a landowner who planted a vineyard and hired stewards to care for it. When he sent his slaves to collect the harvest, the tenants beat and killed them. So the landowner sent his own son, complete with his own authority. And they killed him, as well.

Then Jesus asked those gathered, “Now when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?” They said to him, “He will put those wretches to a miserable death, and lease the vineyard to other tenants who will give him the produce at the harvest time.”

That’s the solution of the people, not God. It’s the solution the leaders chose. It’s the solution of retribution, vengeance, and fear. But any god who uses fear to control the people is not a god worth following.

That’s when Jesus tells the parable of the king and the wedding banquet. And this time, he says that the kingdom of God has been compared to this king. He doesn’t say that this is how HE sees the kingdom. It’s how the people have seen God’s kingdom. And he lets it play out to its bitter conclusion. Retribution, vengeance, and fear. This king is a narcissist, more concerned about filling his halls than celebrating with his son. His son just gives him the occasion to show off. So, how dare people deny his invitation? How dare someone not dress for the occasion?

We tend to either gloss over the one who did not dress appropriately or use him as a cautionary tale about what happens when we think just showing up is enough for God. But any god who uses fear to control the people is not a god worth following.

Instead, I admire this one who refused to celebrate among the smoke of the burning city. He stands before this treacherous king and allows the foolishness of vengeance and retribution to speak louder than his own words. Like Jesus before Herod, he never said a mumbling word. He did not defend himself. He did not cast blame elsewhere. He simply let the ashes of a fallen humanity land accusingly upon the hate and horror and fear in its wake.

No, this parable is not about a God who graciously extended an invitation that was denied; it’s not about a God whose vengeance wreaks havoc upon a faithless nation; it’s not about the generosity of a God who goes out to the byways to invite the unknown to a lavish table in heaven; and it’s not about a God who will kick out anyone not prepared to party.

It’s about a God who stands with the oppressed, who refuses to celebrate hypocrisy and terrorism, who we continually cast out when we don’t get what we want or what we think we deserve. It’s about a God who is always and forever trustworthy, who refuses to use fear to control God’s people. God will always choose love over fear; compassion over vengeance; forgiveness over retribution.

As we continue our stewardship campaign, I encourage you to consider what is trustworthy and faithful. We do not respond to God’s invitation to serve, to dine, to worship, to share out of fear. Never out of fear. Not out of fear of the church, the world, or even of God. We respond with trust—trust that God is doing something new and powerful in and among us; trust that we have something valuable to offer that is much needed and will be well-used. We respond to a trustworthy God who will never turn away our gifts of ourselves. So, we can jump with abandon and then yell, “Hey dad! Catch me!”

Pastor Tobi White

Our Saviour’s Lutheran Church

Lincoln, NE