Which means, among other things, my family has a particular fondness for
that old show.
There is a regular
segment in it, “Fractured Fairytales” where classic fairytales are
retold in bizarre ways:
-princes marrying dragons,
-big bad wolves with anxiety,
-Sleeping Beauties commodifying their condition
—in some ways it was the precursor to the Shrek movies.
And
Jesus’ parables in the Temple, as recorded in Matthew, might fit well in the
Rocky and Bulwinkle Show
—perhaps they would call the segment “Preposterous Parables”,
or when considering today’s parable in particular
—Terrible Parables.
Listen
to the way these stories escalate,
as Jesus tries to open the imaginations of the Temple Authorities
by telling more and more funny, fractured, frightening
stories:
-Let
me tell you the one about the sons
who say one thing and do another.
-Let
me tell you the one about the tenants
who kill their landlord’s son,
because they think that’ll make them heirs.
-Let
me tell you the one about an awful wedding feast
that ends in a banquet of ash,
an abundant invitation
that ends up with outer darkness and teeth grinding.
Preposterous
Parables…
terrible parables.
Prayer
A
Terrible Parable, this banquet in ashes…
When
we experience God’s reign,
it can be like being invited to the feast for a Prince
—the sort of thing that lasts multiple days—perhaps even multiple weeks
—it’s like 2 weeks off, not just paid vacation, but paid time and a
half.
The sort of soiree that might be the highlight of your life,
a chance of a lifetime.
And
instead, you refuse.
In the world of the parable, this is an act of disloyalty to the King,
a dismissal of the Prince as rightful heir.
Further more, there is the mocking, mistreating, and murder of the King’s men.
An open rebellion, put down with siege and destruction.
Then a new set of RSVPs sent out after the war
—invite everyone to a banquet in the ashes.
(It
feels like Matthew’s community holds this parable so tightly, that it
gets a little squished in the re-telling—Read Luke 14:15-24 sometime, if
you want to read the gentler version.)
Matthew’s
folk hold this story so tightly, because they are ministering and telling
people about Jesus after the war,
after a rebellion against Rome,
after the siege and destruction of Jerusalem—the temple turned to ash.
Their own story, after
the war,
is about the ending of the Temple, and everyone, be they:
Elite Sadducees or People of the Land,
A Particular Pharisee from Tarsus or a Persian Gentile,
Essene from the Dead Sea or Greek Cynics
—all of them, called into a generous and once in a lifetime banquet,
the Church, the Body of the Risen Christ
—their reality as a community is a blessed banquet in the midst of the ashes
of what once was.
Their
community a mixed body—containing all sorts of different people,
sifting through the words of Jesus wondering:
“What do we do
now?
Things can’t be the same…
we must not repeat the mistakes of the Temple Authorities and the Religious Elite
—no weird nationalisms that end in burning capitals,
no self-satisfied temple appreciation clubs
—how do we wear our wedding robes?
How do we make sure not to repeat the foolish mistakes of our fore
parents of the faith?
How
do we live a life worthy of the high calling as Children of God?
How do we be good guests?
What horrible thing would make us refuse to enter into the joy of the banquet?
What a sin, if we enter in and then sit on the far side of the feast,
arms crossed, pouting, and oblivious to the good things God is doing.”
Certainly
Matthew and his flock were asking hard questions in the ashes,
this terrible parable brought out some prickly question marks
for them.
And
so, it is worth asking Isaiah to speak to them as well–to give us
some good news…
Because Isaiah also tells of a Banquet of the King
—one that is transformative,
one that speaks of God’s loyalty, fidelity, and faithfulness.
When
we experience God’s reign, it is like refuge and salve
—When Luther reads Isaiah 25 he is forced to exclaim, “Christ is our Asylum!”
When
we experience God’s reign—the Banquet is one where Death
—seen so often as the ultimate consumer of all things
—in Canaanite mythology Death is a cosmic crocodile consuming universe after
universe
—Death is swallowed up, the Eater eaten,
the End of All Things, becoming a mere highlight of a meal.
When we
experience God’s reign,
we can embrace a trusting sort of patience, assured of our salvation
—there is shelter in the storm, there is relief from hurt,
there is a new trajectory, because when Death is not the end,
our whole timeline is transformed.
For us, we need
to pack all that Gospel that Isaiah gives us, into the Terrible
Parable of Matthew.
So that when life feels like a fractured fairytale,
filled with cartoonish absurdities…
when even cold comforts and small hopes turn into ash…
we aren’t overwhelmed or undone.
In the midst of
the ashes
(and I know there are plenty us here who are in the ashes today)
we can be assured that:
-through Jesus Christ God gives us life out of death,
-God’s reign is the kind of meal that is grace all the way down…
-we get to enter into that joy,
-we get to live a life worthy of our Baptismal calling,
-we get to taste and see that the Lord is good. Amen.
