I know, I know, there was a bit of a push on social media late in the week to “re-consider” the parable of Jesus in Matthew’s Gospel today. People were sharing “edgy” takes or interpretations that made them feel better about the parable. Rather than spending our time going through some of those interpretations and, in several instances, reminding us that the author “who came up with the new interpretation” was not the first to try and interpret the parable that way. More importantly, we remind ourselves that we have almost 2000 years of Church tradition regarding the Scriptures. Is it possible someone today will come up with a better interpretation of any Scripture? Possibly, but unlikely. We are far more likely to discover a nuanced interpretation that causes us all to think, but the chances of a new creation are not particularly high, given the fact that the Apostles taught what Jesus taught them and we have a chunk of that in the early writings.
I spent most of my week doing a different deep dive. Let’s just get it out there that I am pretty sure I do not have an original thought today regarding the passage from Isaiah. My illustrations are my own, but that’s it. Had it been left up to me, I would have preached a political science sermon. A couple commentators piqued my interest complaining that God’s people were more concerned about rabbinical teachings than God’s teachings. The political science nerd in me was all about raising his hand to say something. A number of Americans self-describe as Christians, a significant minority, but how many of us resort to Hume and Locke when it comes to questions about rights rather than God? What is unfortunate, of course, is that so many self-described American Christians proclaim they have the right to tell others how to behave or speak about everything. I can choose to live my life following Jesus, but our founders explicitly rejected the idea that they or I could make you follow Christ. We can chat more in the Parish Hall about that, if you are of such a mind.
Our passage in Isaiah today reminds us of the invitation we have been given to share with those around us in the world. We are like the slaves in the parable who go to invite everyone to the Feast given by the Lord. We cannot compel like the soldiers. We can merely remind people who it is that calls them and invites them to come. Our reading in Isaiah today takes place after the the prophesied destruction of the southern kingdom in chapter 24 and in light of the feast in Exodus 24. Now, I know it is the wrong time of year to ask the question, but does anyone remember the feast described in Exodus 24? I see a lot of people watching Charlton Heston in their minds right now. Quit laughing. We all have it on a reel in our heads. You did not see it there, did you. You only know it if you read Exodus and studied it like a Berean.
When Moses complains to his father-in-law, Jesse, that he is exhausted from settling all the disputes of the people, how does his father-in-law advise Moses? Good answer! He tells Moses that he needs help. The result of that conversation is that God takes some of the Spirit given to Moses and gives it to seventy other men, who will share in the settling of disputes. Sound familiar? It is rather boring stuff, so it did not make the script in the movie. Who wants to hear Moses complaining more, and how is the spirit taken from Moses and given to the 70?
Exodus 24 records that Moses, the 70 men, Aaron, and Aaron’s sons, the priestly caste, went up Mt. Sinai and encountered Yahweh standing above a clear, sapphire-like stone. In the presence of Yahweh, all those invited feasted. In fact they eat and drink in the presence of the Lord. Everyone with me so far? Good.
When Isaiah utters the destruction of Judah in chapter 24, it is the very opposite of that experience. In fact, Isaiah notes how some try to ignore the destruction and desolation of the earth in God’s judgment by singing with joy and celebrating the majesty of God. Isaiah reminds us all that treachers deal treacherously with each other and with God. God knows the heart, however, and still punishes. There is nothing any human being can do to avoid the punishments and the judgment.
As is almost always the case, however, the prophet does not leave God’s people without hope. That is where our reading picks up. Isaiah reminds himself and us that the desolation was God’s doing, that God was faithful even when His people were not. But in the midst of that desolation, the prophet reminds us that the Lord is a refuge to the poor, to the needy in distress. God always hears the cry of the oppressed and humbled. In fact He reminds all of us that the blood cries out after their deaths, a reminder that should give rulers lots of pause.
In verse 3, 4, and 5 our translators render the Hebrew as ruthless. The word is often used to describe a ruler who cares only for himself. In Aristotle’s Politics we would call such a person a tyrant, one who rules for his benefit and very few others. One of the problems with human beings, of course, is how easily we are swayed by pretty words and selfish desires. Most of us sitting here today can name those whom we think were tyrants in world history, people like Nero, like Hitler, like Idi Amin, and like Kim Jong-un. There would be little argument, I imagine, over whether they were tyrants or despots. As Americans, we naturally like to think our enemies at any given time are tyrants or despots and that we are never the bad guys in any story. I suspect, however, if we spoke to residents of Gaza or Iran, they might have a different color hat on our heads in their stories. And those of us who really study political science understood our forebears were concerned about the tyranny of the majority, that part of the reason our three branches of government exist and check one another is to prevent the majority of us from tyrannizing those in the minority. Looks like I shook loose a couple cobwebs.
Isaiah reminds us that the tyrants and despots of the world are accountable to God for their treatment of those whom He loves, namely the poor and the distressed, the widows and the orphans. One cannot be a disciple of Jesus and an abuser of the poor and the distressed. We might claim to be someone who cares for them, but the Lord knows our heart and our actions, just as He knew Israel’s. But we are also accountable when we support such abuse of those whom He loves. We, like Israel, are called to repentance and to action. When someone is hungry, we who claim Jesus is Lord are called to feed them. When someone is naked, we are called to clothe them. When someone is a stranger, we are called to welcome them. Jesus in Matthew will make that much clearer in a couple chapters.
Even as the prophet is reminding us of God’s attitude toward the ruthless, though, God has another lesson for us. Now many of us will not understand the polemic, but I hope to make it make sense. Verse 7 and 8 speak to the shroud that is cast over all peoples and God’s swallowing up of death for ever. We recognize that death hangs over all humanity. It should not surprise you, but people in the ANE recognized that death hung over all who lived. The God of death, Mot, was perceived as having a mouth that stretched all the way to the horizon. When Mot closed his mouth, he captured the dead and swallowed them.
In Canaanite understanding, though, the chief ba’al (remember, there were lots of ba’als) fights with Mot. Mot, I think, actually threatens to swallow up the baal in the initial encounter, but it does not really matter who started the fight. Both fight to what you and I would call a draw. But, they would rest and then continue their battle after that rest period. The outcome of the repeated battles came to explain why droughts happened or why the rains came. This was incredibly important in that area of the ANE, which we know had little water. That area depended on the rains in order to nourish the crops. If ba’al won the battle, the rains came and people ate. If Mot won the battle, there was a drought and people starved and, naturally, died. Remember, this understanding has developed in that area before the Exodus and settling of God’s people there.
The Lord of hosts says He will swallow up death for ever in verse 8. This is not going to be an annual battle between two powerful mythological figures. When God acts to swallow death, it will be the end of death. Faithful Jews, like us, understand that death results from the curse of sin. When they heard and we hear these words, we are supposed to understand that God is undoing the sin in the Garden of Eden AND restoring His people to that intimate relationship for which He created us.
Keep in mind, this is several centuries before Jesus and a couple centuries before Israel begins to really consider the existence of an afterlife. But God switches from His identity as a warrior to that of the Covenantal Lord and says that on the day when He swallows up death, He will wipe away the tears from all faces and take the disgrace of His people away from all the earth. To use the language of our favorite Anglican, everything sad in creation will be made untrue. That’s CS Lewis’ description, for visiting. How does that work? We really have no idea. In our Anglican tradition we do not fight much about it because we remind ourselves daily that God often does more than we can ask or imagine, right?
Speaking of more than we can ask or imagine, back to verse 6 and the big lesson for today. I reminded us at the beginning of this sermon that Exodus 24 needs to be in our background understanding. What happens in verse 6? God calls all peoples to a feast of sumptuous food, of well-matured and strained wines, of rich food filled with marrow. God is inviting all humanity to the feast on His mountain, Mount Zion rather than Sinai. At this feast amazing food and wines and desserts will be served. You and I cannot begin to understand how good the feast will be. I know, how can wine be better than your favorite? How can food be better than your favorite meal? How can anyone improve on chocolate or on ice cream or whatever our favorite dessert happens to be? Time and time again we experience God’s abundant blessings, we remind ourselves He often does things that are exponentially better than what we ask or imagine, and still we think the Creator of heaven and earth, the Make of all that is, seen and unseen, is limited by our imagination. You are laughing, but we do.
Part of our rejoicing, though, will be learning these things, experiencing these things first hand. Like loving children in the presence of a loving Father, we will get to sample and tell each other how good the items taste. We will get to celebrate with one another that all our tears have been wiped away. And this feast that He sets will not last for a day or a season, but for eternity. And like the slaves in the parable this morning, you and I are sent into the world inviting people to this feast, a feast for which we do not pay, do not set up, and after which we do not clean up. That’s our primary job, inviting!
How many self-described Christians relish in the idea of judgment? How much money is spent on those billboards which threaten everyone who pass by them with “One day you will meet God.” We so desperately want to judge, we so desperately want to make sure that we, and people like us, are the good people in God’s story of redemptive history, that we forget He takes no delight in the death of anyone, that He purposes that everyone should turn to Him and live!
And if you think this feast imagery is nuts, look at our psalm today. What does God do in the presence of our enemies? Prepares a feast. Most Christians know that psalm by heart. Heck, many non-Christians know Psalm 23. In the midst of enemies, God prepares a feast. And our Gospel lesson reminds us that it is like a marriage feast for a son. What if we embraced that messaging? What if our billboards said “Don’t miss this party!” instead? What would be the result? Some would choose to skip it, but I bet more people would want to know the details of the party.
You and I have an advantage in this. We are liturgical Christians so we remind ourselves all the time, every time we gather. Our primary service is an offering of praise and thanksgiving to God for what He has done for us in Christ Jesus. We remind ourselves intentionally of God’s redemptive and judging activity in the world in the Liturgy of the Word and in good preaching. We remind ourselves each time we gather of our need to repent. And we go to that rail to be nourished by His Body and Blood, reminded of the fact that it is a foretaste or pledge of that heavenly banquet about which Isaiah prophesied several centuries before Jesus’ birth. Then we are sent out into the world to do the work He has given us to do, that others might be drawn into His saving embrace!
Some of that work we do speaks directly to this invitation. How many of us serving the food insecure in our midst have heard the wonder of those whom we serve, the criticisms of our brothers and sisters that we cannot keep doing this, regarding simple feeding? And we never know what some of that food means to those whom we serve, unless they tell us. A grandma speaks of her love of catfish with her own grandma and the joy that she gets to prepare the same meal for her granddaughter. A woman crazily thanks us for allowing her to serve cow tongue tacos to her friends coming to town. Thankfully, all were from a culture that esteemed and loved cow tongue. Lol People ask how we can afford to give them lobster or steak or fresh produce, with thanksgiving and wonder in their voice. Others take the wisdom of the world and instruct us that we cannot keep serving them this kind of food in God’s Name. And we get to truthfully answer that God gave it to us to share with them and that He invites them to that feast where death is swallowed up and the sad things are untrue. Moms have needed chocolate. Adults have been blessed with the good ice cream. I could go on and on, and I bet the Holy Spirit is reminding each of you of your own experiences or perhaps a story I or volunteers have shared over the years.
And how much better are we prepared by our Lord for this work than our spiritual ancestors? You and I know how the shroud of death was torn! We know the robe that must be worn to that great feast. And because we know that it was God coming down from heaven to live among us, who was betrayed by us and condemned to death, and who was raised from the dead as the firstfruits of that great Marriage Feast, we can speak even better to that celebration, even though our descriptions and dreams will, in the end, fall far, far short.
Like the Church year, time is drawing closer to the eschaton, the day when our Lord returns and God calls His people to this amazing Feast. And for reasons we do not yet understand He has entrusted this invitation to people like us, men, women, and youth who call upon His Name for salvation. Men, women, and youth, who like those 70 men from Exodus, have His Spirit within them, transforming them and equipping them to do the work He has called them to do, until that Day when the work is ended, and we are called to His mountain, to His feast, to rejoice in His love of us for not just a day, not just a season, but for eternity!
In His joy and hope!
Brian+