Twenty-eighth Sunday Ordinary 

 Year A 

Isaiah 25:6-10; 

Psalm 23 (22):1-6;

Philippians 4:10-14, 19-20; 

Matthew 22:1-14 (shorter version – 22:1-10)

A king had made elaborate preparations for the wedding of his son. His friends and prominent citizens had been invited to the wedding feast. The king had such confidence in his invitees that he did not even wait for their response to the invitations sent. That was risky: the risk of having to face their rejection, but that was the price to pay: the price of liberty, the price of confidence. Unfortunately, the king had to pay a high price for the trust that he had placed in them.

The banquet was sumptuous: oxen and fatted calves had been slaughtered. Cups overflowed with high quality wine. The servants were attired in their best. It was a dinner fit for the palace, but the celebration could not begin, because the wedding hall was empty: the invited guests simply did not turn up.

All of us, humans have the same dream: to live fully and joyfully. All know that happiness does not fall from the trees and that in order to obtain it one must toil hard. But people are mistaken when they think that happiness depends on their own satisfaction. Happiness depends especially on the place that is given to others. The invitees thought that the banquet was not worthy of them, but did they know that it was they who were not worthy of the banquet? The proverb goes, “If you are not part of the solution, chances are that you are part of the problem.”

So the king asks his servants to go out into streets and invite everyone they find to the wedding banquet. Here Jesus shares in the dream of Isaiah in today’s First Reading: a feast is prepared on the mountain for all the peoples. There is rich food and well-aged wines strained clear (Isaiah 25:6). And so the servants go out into the city and haul in whomever they could find both good and bad, and the hall is filled with guests.

Now starts a new problem. The gospel speaks of a particular guest whose presence is cause for great difficulty. The liturgy even gives us the possibility to stop the reading of the gospel just before this episode, if we found this story too embarrassing for us. There are those who say that these were originally two distinct parables that Matthew has put together artificially. In this second part of the parable, the king approaches an unfortunate fellow, a man without the wedding garment, and asks him: “How did you get in here without a wedding robe?” and has him thrown into the outer darkness.

The exclusion of this man from the wedding celebration hurts us. It looks out of place to ask someone who has been hauled in unexpectedly from the by-lanes why he is not dressed for the occasion. The gospel says even bad people were given admittance to the wedding hall (Matthew 22:10; see Matthew 9:9-13). Then why not spare this man whose only fault seems to be not wearing the prescribed robe?

We know that in the New Testament the wedding garment is the clothing of the baptized. During the baptism ceremony, the white garment is offered the person receiving Baptism, and he or she is told, “You are baptized into Christ; you have clothed yourself with Christ” (Galatians 3:27; see Romans 13:14). This means to enter into the new Covenant it is not enough to enter into the wedding hall. One should accept the Covenant in one’s heart and become a full-fledged party to the wedding celebrations. One has to enter into the project of the King for his Kingdom and share in his dream of a new Earth and a new Heaven, and adopt his concern for righteousness, his compassion for the poor and his limitless pardon.

The wedding garment is the symbol of one’s inner consent. In other words, the wedding garment is provided and it’s for you to put it on. Otherwise, it’s your fault. If you enter a synagogue to take part in the Jewish prayer service, they offer you a prayer shawl and a kippah. So the wedding garment is provided by the palace and it is for you to wear it.

The table has been gorgeously laid. And the cup is overflowing! Do you feel party to the feast? In a few minutes we are going to be given the invitation: “Happy are those called to the supper of the lamb...!” May we clothe ourselves with this response first, “Lord, I am not worthy to receive you; only say the word and I shall be healed.” Amen

(See Tiburtius Fernandez, Homilies for Year A, Twenty-Eighth  Sunday Ordinary, Year A, © St. Paul’s Publications, Bandra, Mumbai, India, 2022, pp. 253-256).