Living without Excuses
This morning I offered a few words on Matt 22: 1-14, for the chapel service at Phillips Theological Seminary. These words, as you will see, are context specific to the seminary community, but I think remain relevant for general consumption. I’m grateful to my companion, Rev. Dr. Lisa W. Davison, for her conversation that helped shape these words.
Jesus, Jesus, What’s It All About?
Matthew 22:1-14
A Tale of a Magic Monastery
“Why not?” that was the first thing the monk said to me. He had never seen me before. I hadn’t said a word. “Why not?” I knew he had me. I brought up excuses: “My partner . . . the people I have to work with . . . not enough time . . . I guess it’s my temperament . . .”
There was a sword hanging on the wall. He took it and gave it to me. “Here, with this sword, you can cut through any barriers.” I took it and slipped away without saying a word. Back in my room in the guesthouse I sat down and kept looking at the sword. I knew that what he said was true.
But, the next day I returned the sword. How can I live without my excuses?(1)
This morning we heard Matthew’s Jesus speak of a banquet. Those invited had excuses, reasons why they would not or could not accept the invitation. Some actually kill the messengers that carry the word that it is time for the party. Violence escalates and there is collateral damage. Then, the invitation list grows to include the “B List” people, the good and the bad. I would call this the ethical and those that lack a moral compass. One person, who apparently is supposed to know better, shows up underdressed and is made an example of “what not to do.” Matthew’s Jesus proclaims, “Many are called, but few are chosen.” This is what the kindom of heaven is like? Had I been one of the disciples, given all that I had seen and experienced, I might have shouted, “Jesus, Jesus, what’s it all about?”
If you are having those kinds of moments in seminary, good. You may not have read it in the fine print of your acceptance letter, but that is one thing this experience is supposed to do. No one comes to seminary without baggage. You may have been de-churched, consider yourself part of the un-churched, or were at church every time the doors were open. No matter which it is, you’ve brought theological baggage with you that needs to be unpacked, aired out, washed, and sorted to determine what can be kept and what needs to be let go. This process, painful and frightening as it can be, helps you hear the nuance of what “called and chosen” can mean in the biblical story, as well as what it can mean in your life, or the life of the Church. The invitation to make your journey with God available to others is often more subtle than overt.
If you want to discuss the authenticity of these words of Jesus, I encourage you to visit with any of the Jesus Seminar scholars that are part of this faculty. In fact, I would encourage students to visit with every faculty member and ask about the hermeneutic she or he brings to the biblical witness. Those conversations enhance what you absorb from courses, whether they are in person and online.
This banquet story is not giving us a glimpse into why Jesus lived as he did and preached what he preached. Rather, this text is telling us about the conversations, arguments, and power struggles in the early Christian community and how they used stories about Jesus to determine who was part of the kindom of God and who was not. Those struggles continue today. What do you have to do to secure a seat at the table? I often look into the parables as if they are a mirror. What are these teaching stories, authentic and not, trying to show me about my practice of Christianity? How are they challenging my discipleship and my “love / hate” relationship with “institutional Church”? It is frightening, it is liberating, and it is humbling, to consider how these stories enable or disarm my excuses?
I think it is helpful to approach this text in Matthew by remembering that Jesus is involved in an argument with the religious leadership of the Temple. Remember, back in chapter 21, Jesus enters Jerusalem humbly to shouts of hosanna and at the end of that parade the entire city is asking, “Who is this Jesus?” Without a pause in the story, Jesus rides right up to the Temple, goes in and trashes it. He leaves for a day, and then returns. It is during this second visit, when the “authority” questions and debate begins. Jesus answers the religious leaders by telling parables that question their own understanding of where their authority derives from and what that authority obligates them to do. When you graduate from this institution of higher learning what authority is conferred in the rights, privileges, and responsibilities of your diploma? If you are studying for ministry and seeking ordination, I encourage you to begin thinking about this question, “What authority is conferred on you at ordination?” A second it like it, “How will you be different when you are ordained into Christian ministry?”
I don’t like hospitals, but hospital visits are part of a ministers life if you are serving a congregation and sometimes even when you are not. I was carrying the pager the night that Phyllis had begun to slip away. Family had gathered at her bedside and I received the call for one of her ministers to come to the hospital quickly. I had only met Phyllis one time before, three months earlier, when the other ministers were showing me the hospitals and the nursing home facilities that cared for our members. I remember driving to the hospital thinking, “But I’m the youth minister. Why am I carrying the hospital pager?” I went into the room and greeted her family. One of them told me that Phyllis had been unconscious since yesterday and her breathing was slowing and blood pressure dropping. The nurses said it would be hours now. I went and sat on the left side of her bed and took her hand. I don’t remember what I said. In the silence, as I was looking for the next word, Phyllis opened her eyes and said in a whispered voice, “It’s about time you got here. I’ve been waiting for your prayer.” We prayed, she looked around at family, and closed her eyes. The next day she quietly claimed the promise of her baptism. That hour of my life still works on me, on my excuses, and on my understanding of ministerial authority.
As trusted institutions, including the Church, fail to evolve and adapt to the rapidly changing culture, people are embracing what I call a “Holiday Inn Express” mentality or approach to living in more ways than we want to entertain. You know those commercials. Each one is built on a scenario in which a person knows what to do when it is needed, but they do not know the “why” behind their actions, except to say, “I stayed at a Holiday Inn Express.”
My favorite one opens with a rodeo clown coaching a nervous cowboy about the best way to ride the bull he is sitting on. The clown gives the cowboy details about the bull and tells him to hang on. The cowboy, looking more calm, says, “You rodeo clowns sure are a life safer.” The clown responds, “Rodeo clown, ha, no, I’m with the birthday party. Hello kiddies.” The cowboy looks into the stands to see a group waving back to the clown. He turns back to the clown. His facial expression changes from calm to disbelief, disappointment, as the clown says, “But I did stay at a Holiday Inn Express last night”. The clown jumps down, the gate opens, and the wild ride begins.
A marketing company took the old idea of “learning by osmosis” and created an effective ad campaign. Good outcomes can happen when people who know what to do, get involved, even if they do not know the “why” behind their actions. It is also a comforting excuse. Bill Cosby highlights the frustration of parenting. A child or youth has broken something, colored outside the lines, or disobeyed. The parent asks, “Why did you do that? The child responds, “I don’t know?” I imagine the parent of us all has had a similar frustration.
You can learn a lot by watching and doing what others do, even in the practice of Christianity. Some of it may come to make sense after a while, but life has a way of insisting that humans wrestle with belief, wrestle with the “why” when bad things happen, and wrestle with God. This kindom of heaven parable wakes us from the slumber of righteousness and startles our sense of privilege. Dr. Delores Williams, a womanists theologian writes,
Though we may think that the king’s treatment of the guest is a bit harsh, the message implied, here is that one must find a way to become properly equipped for what the occasion demands — even if one is not so equipped in the beginning . . . Jesus makes the point that many, many people are called but few are chosen. But this chosen-ness has nothing to do with elitism. It does have something to do with preparation.(2)
Rev. Dr. M. Jack Suggs, a New Testament scholar, was also the President of Brite Divinity School while I was a student. It was my second semester of seminary. I was sitting in a pew with friends at opening convocation. I don’t remember much of anything Dr. Suggs said that night, but these words caught my attention and have stuck with me. “Sometimes ministry is reduced to turning the crank that births the bade of Bethlehem and points the way to the empty tomb each year. Sometimes, that is all we expect of the minister or the Church. The Church, the Gospel, needs ministers that will do more than this.”(3)
You have responded to the invitation to attend seminary. This is one step in the journey of preparation. Your presence is a recognition that serving in the priesthood of all believers means more than turning the crank of Christian tradition. There are plenty of people who can do that.
If the kindom of God, that the life and teachings of Jesus of Nazareth embodied, if that kindom is ever to be an alternative to the current Age of Empire, here and now, it will happen because the many called or the few chosen will decide to live, without their excuses.
Notes
1. Theophane the Monk, Tales of a Magic Monastery, Crossroad, 1994, p. 86.
2. Delores S. Williams, “Excellence Beyond Standards”, The Christian Century, October 17, 1990, p. 931.
3. Paraphrase of Dr. M. Jack Suggs, from notes taken during opening convocation of Brite Divinity School, January 1988.