The Wrong King

The Rev. Brad Sullivan
Lord of the Streets, Houston
November 23, 2025
Proper 29 – Christ the King, C
Jeremiah 23:1-6
Psalm 46
Luke 23:33-43

Jesus was killed by the Roman Empire as a heretic and potential insurrectionist. He had no political power and rejected political power when it was offered to him, both by Satan in his temptations in the wilderness and by Jesus’ followers when they wanted to make him king. He desired no earthly political power and taught no earthly political power for his followers. “You will be handed over to [the authorities],” he said, not you will become the authorities to deal out punishment and death to others. 

Jesus’ church, therefore, remained a religious movement without great earthly authority for over 300 years. The church did not rule over others with political or governmental power. Rather, any authority or influence the church had came from the relationships of love and service they gave to others. 

Jesus was the king of the church, and people followed his rule by living his teachings. Love one another. Pray for your enemies. Do not return anyone evil for evil. If you have more than you need, share generously with others. Live lives of prayer, service, and above all, love. That also includes having fun, enjoying life, working, being with friends and family. Love God, love people, and let everything else flow from that. However imperfectly Jesus’ followers lived that life of love, and they did live that way imperfectly, such is the church with Jesus as king. Love God, love people, and let everything else flow from that.

Then, in the year 380, Emperor Theodosius I made Christianity the official state religion of the Roman Empire. At that point, I would argue that the Emperor of Rome usurped Jesus’ role as king of the Church, at least in an earthly sense. At that point, the Church had political power and authority to force others to follow its desires. 

War, for example, was not the way of Jesus, but once the Church and the Empire were united, when Empire when to war, the Church went to war. Rather than love and pray for one’s enemies, the church began killing their enemies at the point of a sword. 

Even after the fall of the Roman Empire the Church was often closely tied to the government in many nations with great political power and authority. It seems like the Church got used to ruling, and the power of the church remained tied to the power of the State.

When Christopher Columbus came the Bahamas, he claimed the land for Spain, and he decided to convert the people to Christianity. The conversions didn’t really take all that well, and over the decades, the King of Spain ordered forced conversions, and the Church complied. Believe in Jesus or be tortured and killed. That’s what the church looked like with an earthly king as its head: forcing people to believe in Jesus, destroying their religious sites, enslaving people, and killing those who resisted. 

That’s a far cry from love God, love people, and let everything else flow from that. Forced conversions are not what God intended for us. Coerced conversions, making people terrified of what will happen to them if they don’t believe in Jesus, is not what God intended for us. Offering our belief to others that they may find the healing that we have found, that is what God intends.

Be a light, Jesus taught us. A light attracts people in the darkness. The light of a loving God amidst the darkness of hatred. The light of taking care of one another amidst the darkness of indifference. The light of hope amidst the darkness of despair.  

Bringing light into darkness is kinda God’s deal. In the beginning, when the earth was nothing but a formless void, and darkness reigned everywhere, God said, “Let there be light,” and light shined into the darkness.

When God made humanity, God gave us some of God’s own power so that we could rule over creation and care for this wonderful earth. We’ve not always done a particularly good job of that, but we see God continuing to love us, continuing to walk with us, continuing to shine light into the darkness.

When God formed the people of Israel, God made them to be a light to the nations. Love God and love people, God taught. Be a light to others by how you live. If you loan someone money, don’t charge interest. Use what you have to help out someone in need, and trust that they’ll do the same if things are reversed. If you really want to please God, take care of the poor and needy among you. Care for the orphans and widows. If you’re really angry with someone, leave the vengeance to God, trusting God’s justice, even when it doesn’t happen on earth.

The people of Israel didn’t always follow God’s ways, and eventually they even asked for a king to lead them like the other nations. God warned them that the king would take all of the best of what everyone had for himself. The king would take their sons to fight in his wars and his daughters to serve him in his palace, and the people said, “Sounds great.” 

So, the people rejected God as their king and decided to have an earthly king instead. It didn’t work out all that well, as you might imagine, but God loved the people of Israel enough to let them make that mistake. Then God continued striving with the people of Israel so that despite all of their very human screw ups, they could continue to be a light to the nations to this day.

When Jesus founded the Church, he called his disciples a light to shine in the darkness for all. “Love one another as I have loved you,” he told them. That is the light he wanted his disciples to shine, love for one another. Jesus wanted his disciples to attract others to them by loving one another, by being light. 

Now, the church has screwed up plenty over the centuries, and through it all, Jesus has stuck with us. When the Church even went so far as to reject Jesus as king, and began relying on the power of the Roman Empire instead, things went pretty badly, and Jesus continued to strive with the church. Jesus continued loving humanity. Jesus continued shining as a light for us to turn to when darkness overcame us.

I’d love to say that the church no longer rejects Jesus as king, but we know that’s not true. Even without the tyranny of the Roman Empire or the genocidal expansion of colonialism, there are plenty of ways that pockets of the modern Church still reject Jesus as king. Think of the Ku Klux Klan, which claimed Christianity as their faith, and yet their king was not Jesus but themselves and fear of being displaced or devalued. 

Think of Christian groups who use the government to try to force Christianity on others, rather than trying to attract others simply by being the light of love. They may think of Jesus as their king, but Jesus didn’t use a government or anything else to force his beliefs on anybody. 

Think about Christian groups who are constantly threatening people with eternal torture if they don’t believe in Jesus. Conversions based on those threats aren’t forced conversions, but they are coerced conversions with a foundation of fear, rather than a foundation of Jesus. Fear is king in such pockets of Christianity with Jesus serving to alleviate that fear.

Forcing people to believe, scaring people into believing, using Jesus as a weapon to achieve some victory or another: pockets of the church that do these kinds of things have the wrong king in charge. 

Jesus didn’t force anything on anyone. When push came to shove, he let himself be killed, rather than rise up in revolt against Rome. Jesus’ way was to let Rome do their horrible, oppressive, imperial stuff, and he and his disciples were going to be the church. In the darkness of Empire and authoritarianism, Jesus was king by living the light of love. Actually, Jesus lived the lights of faith, hope, and love, and the greatest of those lights was love. 

That light of Jesus’ love still shines in the darkness. The great love that God has for us shines in the darkness, and our faith and hope, the light that shines in the darkness, is ultimately the great light of love. 

He's Not the One We're Fighting For

The Rev. Brad Sullivan

Lord of the Streets, Houston
November 24, 2024
Christ the King (Proper 29)
Daniel 7:9-10, 13-14
Psalm 93
John 18:33-37

So, in the HBO television series, A Game of Thrones, and in the books from which the TV show came, all of the kings of all the different nations pretty much had one thing in common. They all wanted more land, to feel more powerful and more secure, and they were all more than happy to sacrifice the lives of countless other people to get them than land. Hundreds of thousands of people marching off to war to die on some battlefield so their king could have more.

Currently, in real life, we have Vladimir Putin in Russia doing the same thing. Hundreds of thousands of Russian troops have died so that Vladimir Putin could get more land and feel more powerful and secure. Just like the kings of fiction and kings throughout history, hundreds of thousands of people are marching off to war to die on some battlefield so their king can have more. By whatever name they are called, the kings and rulers of nations (including our own) throughout the world and throughout history have sent others to die for their cause.

That’s kinda what kings tend to do.

So, when Jesus said, “If my kingdom were from this world, my followers would be fighting to keep me from being handed over to the Judeans,” he really meant it. If I were a king like you, Jesus was saying to Pilate, then I would have commanded my troops to come and die for me, just like you would. I would have hundreds of thousands be slaughtered in battle just so that I could get my way, if were a king like you, Pilate, if my kingdom were of this world, but as it is, “my kingdom is not from this world.”

Jesus isn’t a king like earthly kings and rulers. Rather than send other people to die for his cause, Jesus chose to die himself for our cause: the cause of love, of unity with God and unity with each other.

Jesus didn’t want his followers to take up weapons to fight for him 2000 years ago. He didn’t want his followers to take up weapons to fight for him during the crusades. Jesus didn’t want his followers to take up weapons and kill native Americans who wouldn’t convert to Christianity. Now, in this world and in this time, Jesus still doesn’t want his followers to take up weapons to fight for him. That just ain’t the kind of king Jesus is, because Jesus’ kingdom ain’t of this world.

See, kingdoms of this world are small and limited. Kingdoms of this world can only reach as far as people are willing to fight and kill for them. If a king claims land or some territory as his own, but there’s no one there to force people to serve the king, then it really isn’t the king’s territory, is it? Kingdoms of this world are defined by territory and ruled by force, by people willing to kill and die so the king can keep his land.

That goes from Russia invading Ukraine to businesses fighting for greater market share, to one gang trying to take territory from another. Heck, even churches fight one another over people and power, each trying to get more people and more money so their community and version of the Gospel can win over others’. We don’t tend to kill each other in the church over fights for land and people, but we have in the past.

Small and limited kingdoms fighting each other over territory, whether land, people, money, or power, kingdoms of this world use various kinds of violence to force their way in the world.

Jesus’ kingdom is a bit different, because Jesus’ kingdom is neither defined by territory nor ruled by force.

Jesus’ kingdom can be anywhere and everywhere, and Jesus’ kingdom is both defined by and ruled by love. “To him was given dominion and glory and kingship, that all peoples, nations, and languages should serve him.” We serve Jesus by loving one another. As we’re told in Matthew 25, we don’t need to know it is Jesus we are serving. We don’t even need to believe in Jesus to serve him. In Matthew 25, people are thanked and welcomed into God’s kingdom for the ways they served Jesus, and they respond that they’ve never Jesus before, that they have no idea who he is. He tells them that whatever love and care they have shown for anyone, they’ve given that love and care for him. In Jesus’ kingdom, we serve Jesus by loving one another.

“His dominion is an everlasting dominion that shall not pass away, and his kingship is one that shall never be destroyed.” Jesus’ kingdom isn’t dependent upon territory or anything that can be taken by force or destroyed. Jesus’ kingship cannot be destroyed because Jesus’ kingship is over all of creation, and his kingdom dwells within us.

We don’t always see Jesus’ kingdom. We don’t always live Jesus’ kingdom. It breaks in here and there, now and then, and we see and live in the love and Spirit of Jesus’ kingdom for a time. Eventually, Jesus’ kingdom will exist fully, everywhere, in every heart, as eventually, Jesus will wipe every tear from every eye, all violence and anger will be ended, and even death will be destroyed. We will all live fully in the life and love of Jesus’ kingdom.

Until that time, we get glimpses here and there, now and then, and we strive to live the love and peace of Jesus’ kingdom.

As followers of Jesus, that’s the idea and the ideal. We’ll all be peaceful, harming no others, fighting in no wars. That would be lovely, and Jesus knows that’s not going to happen until the end of the ages. Our nations will continue to fight one another for territory and security. We’ll continue to hurt one another and fight one another over territory and security.

That’s not what Jesus wants for us, but that’s what’s going to keep happening. Jesus knows that these wars, big and small, are going to continue. Even as we live at times in those glimpses of Jesus kingdom, we also still live in the kingdoms of the world, and sometimes, some of us will even be called to fight our nation’s wars. That’s the way of the world. It’s important to remember, however, that in all of these wars, big or small, whatever the cause, Jesus is not the one we’re fighting for, and Jesus is not the one asking us to fight.

That’s not what Jesus’ kingdom is like, asking us to fight and kill for him. Rather, as king of all the world, Jesus rules by giving us forgiveness for all of the wars we continue to fight. Rather than banish us from his kingdom when we end up fighting for the kingdoms of this world, Jesus seeks us out to bring us safely back home to his kingdom of love and peace. Unlike the kings of this world, Jesus doesn’t ask his followers to fight and die for him. Rather than send other people to die for his cause, Jesus chose to die himself for our cause: the cause of love, of unity with God and unity with each other. That’s the kind of king I can follow.

The Path of the Righteous Man…

The Rev. Brad Sullivan

Emmanuel Episcopal Church

November 22, 2020

Proper 29, Christ the King, A

Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24

Ephesians 1:15-23

Matthew 25:31-46

The Path of the Righteous Man…

“The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the iniquities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he who, in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of the darkness. For he is truly his brother’s keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon you.” 

That’s from the Quentin Tarantino movie, Pulp Fiction, and it was said by the character, Julius, a hit man played brilliantly by Samuel L. Jackson.  I gotta say I hear some echoes of Jesus’ story of the judgement of the nations in Samuel L. Jackson’s speech from Pulp Fiction.  To the righteous, Jesus says, “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world…,” whereas to the unrighteous, Jesus says, “You that are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels…”

The way of the righteous man is great and good and beloved of God.  The way of the wicked, the tyranny of evil men?  God seems rather less than pleased with that part, and I love the idea of Samuel L. Jackson’s character Julius as the king, in Jesus’ story declaring to the unrighteous, “…depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.”  There’s something kinda delicious about that.

I’m not entirely convinced, however, that the image Jesus had in mind with this story was of a hitman with a 9mm scaring the daylights out of the unrighteous before they met their end.  I don’t know that Jesus told this story so that we hearers would be perpetually afraid of some almighty hitman standing over us telling us we didn’t do a good enough job of loving each other.  

Fear of doing enough good for God was actually the kind of crazy religiosity Jesus was telling this story against.  Unlike angry hitman God or a god who wants a bunch of crazy religiosity that would make us pure enough, or good enough, or religious enough for God, Jesus is showing us a God who is not concerned with our purity, sinlessness, or religiosity.  Jesus is showing us a God who cares most deeply about how we treat each other.

Now there is some fear present in the story, and it is meant to be present.  Maybe less Samuel L. Jackson as Julius the hitman and more Samuel L. Jackson as Mace Windu, the Jedi Master, telling us we’ve been removed from the Jedi order.  Like the Jedi who were supposed to care for others, the point of this story is that those in Jesus’ kingdom are meant to care for others.  

When we don’t, when, as we heard in Ezekiel, we push against each other; scatter each other; take those weaker ones, get what we want from them, and cast them aside, then it seems only right that the king would say, “leave my presence.”  Jesus wants us to take seriously the idea of being removed from his presence as a natural consequence of not caring one whit about each other.  

Jesus told this story in the way he did, with that element of fear in it, so that we would recognize our propensity at times not to care that much for others, and that we would also recognize the great value and importance of those around us.  Further, in telling the story the way he did, Jesus is hoping that we would hear his words and then strive to be those “who,” as Julius said, “in the name of charity and good will, shepherd the weak through the valley of darkness.”  

See, that’s the kind of king Jesus is.  As our king, Jesus wants us to see the importance of people all around us and seek to walk to the path of the righteous one, shepherding one another, caring for each other, and lifting each other up.  That’s life in God’s kingdom.  Not with God as an angry hitman, and not with God as a king who, quite apart from all of us, tells us we better be pure enough, or good enough, or religious enough for his liking.  In Jesus’ kingdom, when we don’t treat each other as we want to be treated, that’s when we are blaspheming God.

Notice that, as king, Jesus is not far away from us on some high and lofty throne but is instead always present in his kingdom among his people.  “Lord, when did we see you naked and clothe you or hungry and feed you?”  “Whenever you did it to the least of these, you did it to me.”  Jesus is always with us, walking among us.  The king of all creation is with us at all times and in all places, even during the crazy of 2020 with continued COVID-tide.

Where is Jesus, our king, during all this pandemic crisis?  Jesus is working shift after shift at the hospital, risking infection, caring for patients.  Jesus is lying in hospital beds, sometimes recovering, sometimes dying.  Jesus is working insane hours trying to teach children both online and at school.  Jesus is those children, crying amidst all the chaos and loss of play and interaction, children in desperate need of hugs and soothing baths, and words of comfort from loving adults.  

Jesus is the grocery store delivery driver working for little and risking his own health so that others can stay home and be safe.  Jesus is all those who can stay home and are staying home, going stir crazy, so that they’ll contribute as much as they can to stop the viral spread.  Jesus is the people working for a vaccine, and Jesus is the people who have lost all hope, knowing the vaccine will come far too late for them keep their livelihoods or gain back anything of the everything they’ve lost.  

Jesus is the former tenant who lost her job due to the economic downturn, couldn’t pay her rent, and then lost all of her possessions as she was evicted from the apartment with her belongings left on the curb.  

Jesus is all of the weary and downtrodden, the hungry and hopeless, the sick and suffering.  Jesus told his story so that we would see Jesus in all of these people.  Jesus told his story so that we would see the least around us and and think to ourselves, “My king,” and then treat them as such.

Kneeling to Jesus, to Freedom, to the Man Who Wouldn't Be King

Brad Sullivan

Proper 12, Year B

July 29, 2018

Emmanuel, Houston

Ephesians 3:14-21

John 6:1-21

Kneeling to Jesus, to Freedom, to the Man Who Wouldn’t Be King

I was at a teacher’s party last week with Kristin, for the teachers at her school; spouses were invited, and we actually got to see each other, which was lovely.  We were meeting at one of their houses, and the Astros game was on, so as we were talking, we’d catch glances of the game, and unfortunately, the Astros were losing to the Texas Rangers.  So at one point, the host and I were watching the game for a few minutes, and he rather sheepishly admitted to me that he was, in fact, a Rangers fan, having lived in Dallas for many years, and was rather happy with the score. 

There was no problem, but there was a hint of a possibility of a problem.  Was it ok for him to admit that he was a Rangers fan?  Was I going to get upset and offended and think less of  him?  Did his identity as a Rangers fan somehow butt against and attack my identity as an Astros fan?  No, of course not.  Except for that passing split second when it did.  So deep is our need for identity and some feeling of power and control, that even people rooting for a different team in a game in which we’re not playing, can feel a little bit like an attack.

This idea of our desire for power and control was expressed very well in the Marvel superhero movie, The Avengers.  Simplifying the plot to bare bones, you’ve got Loki, the bad guy from another world, who wants to rule over a planet and be king of an entire people, so he chooses earth.  After causing a good amount of destruction, Loki has a crowd of people before him, and he tells them all to kneel before him.  Then he grins a little triumphantly and says,

Loki:    “Is not this simpler? Is this not your natural state? It’s the unspoken truth of humanity that you crave subjugation. The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life’s joy in a mad scramble for power.  For identity. You were made to be ruled.  In the end, you will always kneel.”

Captain America and Iron Man end up saving the day in that scene, but there is so much truth in that little speech and dialogue.  Our mad scramble for power, for identity.  We want to belong, and that belonging ties in with our identity.  That’s why you have people fighting with each other and getting serious, even angry and violent in speech and action over things like sports teams. 

We also desire power over the changes and chances of this life.  Millenia of war exhibit our desire for power and how we seek power over others sometimes for protection, for identity, for one group’s wrong ideology or way of life.  We do desire power over situations we don’t like or decisions with which we disagree, and in our desire to make the situation or outcome be what we want, we often respond to others with verbal and sometimes even physical violence. 

That’s what Loki did.  Then, at the end of his little speech, as Loki says, “you will always kneel,” a man stands up and says,

German Man:  “Not to men like you.

Loki:    “There are no men like me.” (Loki responds.)

German Man:  “There are always men like you.”

There are always people like Loki who seek power over others.  There are always people like Loki who seek to subjugate people or situations to their wills or desires.  If we look deep inside, those people like Loki are all of us.  We all desire power over the changes and chances of this life, and we all, in our less that wonderful moments, end up using power to get what we want in ways that cause harm or subjugate others to our wills.

Paradoxically, as much as we desire power, Loki was right that we also seek subjugation.  Most of us want people in governmental authority over us, and most of us don’t want those jobs.  There are areas in which we want power, and there are areas where we’d rather be subjugated to someone else’s power, a good ruler, and to let that person take over responsibility.

There is peace in surrender.  There is the peace of child who doesn’t have the weight of ruling over the household.  Think of Israel demanding of God a king to rule over them.  God warned them, “he is going to subjugate you under his will,” and the people responded, “that’s fine, just so long as we can have a king to rule over us.”

During Jesus’ day, Israel had a puppet king ruling over them, while Rome was actually in charge.  They didn’t like this king; things were not good under his rule or under the rule of Rome, and when people kept seeing Jesus’ power to heal, to perform miraculous works, they decided he should be king.  “When Jesus realized that they were about to come and take him by force to make him king, he withdrew again to the mountain by himself.”

Jesus would not be the ruler over us in any kind of system of power and authority of this world. 

Bishop Doyle writes about Jesus’ rejection of the power and violence of the world in his book, The Jesus Heist.  He writes, “Jesus makes clear that violence is to be met with peace and nonviolence.”  “The way of the society of the friends of Jesus [is to] avail themselves of different weapons [than the weapons of this world]:  presence, conversation, and humility.”  That’s what Jesus did with people.  He had dinner with them.  He talked with people.  He was with them in their lives, joys, and struggles.  In Jesus, Bishop Doyle writes we are freed from the systems of violence and domination in this world, through unity with Jesus and conversion in him.

There is a paradox of surrendering to Jesus.  All power and authority is his, and he will not use that power and authority to subjugate us.  Jesus is not going to force and control us.  Surrender to Jesus’ power and authority is surrender to freedom in Jesus.

Freedom to love without fear.  Freedom to love others and live out the image of God in which we were made.  Freedom to let go our anger and our hurt which lead us to want control over situations and control over others:  in the board room, in our homes, at work, on the freeway.  We have freedom in Jesus to let go of our desires for control and realize, it’s ok to forsake the anger, and fear, and hurt within us, and to live love instead.

There is freedom in Jesus to accept the changes and chances of the life.  Freedom from the need for fear and violence to keep us safe and secure.  When a loving parent tucks a child in to bed at night, sometimes laying down with them as they drift off to sleep, giving them a blessing on their forehead, fears and worries slip away, and the child rests secure, knowing that all is well.  Mommy and Daddy are there.

Our surrender to Jesus is like that child with a loving parent.  In Jesus, we can rest secure and at peace, even with the changes and chances of this life. 

Back to Loki in his mad quest for power, he was right that we will always kneel to something.  Kneeling to Jesus, we kneel to one with all power and authority who chooses not to rule over us through his power and chooses not to force us to do anything at all.  Instead, we bow to kneel to Jesus, and he frees us to live and love without fear. 

As Paul wrote, “I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth takes its name. I pray that, according to the riches of his glory, he may grant that you may be strengthened in your inner being with power through his Spirit, and that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, as you are being rooted and grounded in love.”

Paul goes on to pray that we may have some comprehension of the vastness of the love of Jesus, so that as we kneel to him, we may be filled with the full peace and love of God, resting secure that the power of God working in us can accomplish far more than we can ask or imagine.  We kneel to Jesus and find freedom, freedom to love and live without fear. 

Wow, That Got Out of Hand Quickly

Brad Sullivan

Proper 23, Year A

October 15, 2017

Emmanuel, Houston

Isaiah 25:1-9

Philippians 4:1-9

Matthew 22:1-14

Wow, That Got Out of Hand Quickly

So this is everyone’s favorite parable.  In a few sentences, Jesus’ parable of the wedding feast went from a king throwing a wedding feast for his son to the guests not wanting to come, killing the king’s servants, and the king utterly destroying their city and killing all of them.  From “Hey guys, let’s have a party,” to total bloodbath in 4.3 seconds, the hearer of this story is left rather breathless, thinking, “Wow, that really got out of hand quickly.”  We’re left stunned, and a bit scared as we hear this parable, and so we often try to clearly define what groups of people Jesus is talking about.

Christians have long tried to define themselves as the riff raff collected from the streets who accepted the king’s invitation, and Christians have then tried to define the Jews as the initial guests who killed the kings servants and were then killed by the king themselves.  Not so fast crazy Christian.  At the time Jesus told this parable, there weren’t any Christians yet.  Jesus was an itinerant Jewish Rabbi telling a parable to his disciples in the context of the priests and the  Pharisees trying to discredit him and his ministry while at the same time exalting themselves.

So, Jesus tells a parable about God’s judgment and God’s grace, and there is tension there which the Pharisees and the priests wanted to ignore.  Pharisees and priests followed the law of Moses, so much so that they became certain of their own righteousness before God not because of God’s grace, but because of how well they followed the rules.  They felt justified in God’s eyes as if they had earned his good graces.  That’s now how grace works.

In Jesus’ parable, no one earned anything.  People were invited to a party.  The king invited his people to the party, and they didn’t want to come.  In fact, they were so dead set against going to a party, that they would literally rather kill people than go to the party.  How crazy is that?  “I invited you to a party, and you chose to murder people instead?”  The king says.  So, at that point, yeah, the king kills those people and kills ‘em good, burns their town and leaves nothing but ashes.  

Then he invites whoever is left, the riff raff, and all is well.   They come to the party, and being riff raff, being the good and the bad, the whomever the king happened to find out among the streets, these people didn’t have fancy clothes to wear to the wedding.  In fact, it wouldn’t have mattered if they did, because at a wedding like this one, the king would have provided even the initial guests with wedding garments.  They were the kings guests, and they would wear what he provided, rather than showing off their own splendor and mocking those with less. 

So the riff raff is having a great time at the party.  Crazy uncle Earl is making a bit of a spectacle of himself, but that’s ok.  Music is going, the wine is flowing, and then the king sees this one dude without his wedding garment.  Did the kings servants mess up and not give him one?  Did he refuse to take it?  Did he sneak in through an open window and crash the party?  We don’t know, and that’s what the king wants to know, and rather than fess up, the man just stands there not saying anything.  From his initial entry without accepting the wedding garment to his refusal to speak to the king, the man is making one thing very clear.  “Sure, I’ll be here at your stupid party, but I’m going to be here on my terms.”

That’s now how the party works.  That’s not how grace works.  Grace is freely offered, and you just say “yes” and “thanks.”  If the guy in the story had just spoken up, he’d have been ok.  When asked “Why you don’t have a wedding garment?”, just admit that you’re a self righteous prat.  Just admit that you’re still broken and messed up and trying to earn your way or trying to place yourself above others.  If the guy without the wedding garment had just spoken up, the king would have said, “Oh, you misunderstood.  The party is a free gift, you don’t have to earn it.  You don’t have to be better than anybody else.  Here, take this wedding garment, and let me get you a beer.”

The story isn’t about being better than anybody else or being prepared, it’s about saying, “Gee whiz, thanks,” to God’s grace.  Often when we hear this parable, however, we make it about something else, and we try to define who has accepted the wedding garment and who hasn’t?  Do we, as the church, worry about our family and friends who reject becoming Christian, reject being a part of the church?  Possibly we do, but whoever said “the Church” are the ones who have accepted the invitation and put on the wedding garment?  Sometimes, in the church, we take our faith in Jesus and turn it into our own clothes, trusting in our faith in Jesus as a rule, rather than simply trusting in Jesus.  We take our faith in Jesus and turn it into our own terms.  We take Jesus and turn him into an institution.

Sometimes folks reject the church as the institution and reject the faith of the church as the faith of that institution.  They’re searching for truth, searching for a way, searching for life.  They are searching for God’s grace, for what we understand Jesus to be, but they aren’t finding what they are searching for in what we proclaim about Jesus nor in how we live out Jesus’ way.  Perhaps those who reject the church are being called to the wedding banquet from the streets, and we have unknowingly rejected the invitation, or accepted the invitation but done so on our own terms?

There is always that tension, that we take Jesus’ invitation and turn it around and accept it, but accept it on our own terms.  “The invitation is free, but I’m accepting it as a good and righteous person,” some may think, or “Now that I’ve been invited, I’ll earn my invitation by being such a good person from now on.”

There is always the tension between following Jesus and his way, the importance of living as Jesus taught, and the free gift of grace, the invitation that continues to be offered regardless of our actions, regardless of how good we are or how bad we are.  There is tension between the free gift of grace and the command to love one another as Jesus loves us, and the man in the parable who tries to go to the wedding feast on his own terms reminds us that we don’t get to resolve the tension. 

“I thought God wanted me to be a kind and decent person, loving others?”  Yes, he does. 

“But doesn’t he want me to show that off at his party?”  Nope.  You didn’t get to the party by being so awesome.  God invited you out of grace.

See God wants to have a party, all the time, and at the end of all time.  In this life, God wants us to love each other.  God wants us to accept his grace and to give his grace.  God looks at us and thinks, “Man, y’all are messed up.  Just admit it, and quit with this silliness of thinking you have to be better than each other.  That ain’t how I work.  Y’all are all messed up, and I want to have a party with all of you.”  That’s how grace works.  The judgment is that we don’t buy it, or rather than we think we have to buy it.  When we think we have to buy it, that’s when things get out of hand really quickly.  The truth is, we don’t have to buy God’s grace or earn God’s grace.  We don’t have to fight with each other to try to get enough of it.  We don’t have to claim ourselves as having it and others as not.  That’s keeping our own clothes on.  God’s grace is God’s grace.  It’s a free gift, and there is plenty to go around.