All around the world, from one culture to another and from one religious tradition to another, the spiritual life is referred to as a journey. This is true because, just as when traveling, our spiritual life has high points and low points, times when you move ahead quickly and times when you get stuck, there are detours and roadblocks. But the life of faith is also a journey because we are heading somewhere, we have a destination.
In Christianity, the destination is eternal life with God. We look forward to having perfect communion with God when Jesus Christ returns at the end of time, and he stands as Judge over all the peoples of earth. We look forward to the Day of Judgment because we make confident assumptions about our salvation. One example is found in the old gospel hymn, “When the Roll Is Called Up Yonder“. The words to the first stanza go like this:
“When the trumpet of the Lord shall sound and time shall be no more,
and the morning breaks eternal, bright and fair,
When the saved of earth shall gather over on the other shore,
And the roll is called up yonder, I’ll be there.“
How striking, the tremendous assurance that is demonstrated in these words. It’s striking in part because of the diverse world in which we live. With so many different religious roads and spiritual pathways beckoning to us on our faith journey, how can anyone speak with confidence about their eternal destination? And, knowing my own capacity to make navigational errors while traveling, how can I say I’m headed in the right direction? We can answer that question with confident assurance, through the authoritative teaching of Jesus and a look at the eternal destination God has for his people.
In the Old Testament of the Bible, God used the words of his prophets to paint a powerful picture of his everlasting welcome. A banquet is how God described it through the prophet Isaiah, who recorded these words in chapter 25:6—9 of his book:
On this mountain the LORD Almighty will prepare a feast of rich food for all peoples, a banquet of aged wine—— the best of meats and the finest of wines. On this mountain he will destroy the shroud that enfolds all peoples, the sheet that covers all nations; he will swallow up death forever. The Sovereign LORD will wipe away the tears from all faces; he will remove the disgrace of his people from all the earth.
There will be one day a final invitation for all to come in from the cold. With God’s inspiration, Isaiah painted a picture of an end—of—time banquet celebration that is pure grace. The spiritual pilgrims have been welcomed in from the roadway, their journey at an end. No more struggling uphill, no more fear of robbers or wild animals, no more burning heat of high noon or dark cold of night. No more fear, or sickness or death. It is the grace gift of warmth, security and the welcoming hospitality of heaven. Isaiah says the guests at God’s table will enjoy the richest of foods. And note especially, this will be a feast for all peoples. That includes the nations of the world; non—Jewish gentiles will be welcomed and embraced there.
But, in the years following Isaiah’s ministry, the interpretation of this banquet changed. Various scholars began to make this universal feast into a more exclusive occasion. An ancient record of these teachings says,
“The Lord Almighty will make for all the peoples on this mountain a meal; and though they suppose it is an honor, it will be a shame for them, [for them, there will be] great plagues, plagues from which they will be unable to escape, plagues whereby they will come to their end.“
So later, it was believed that the great welcoming banquet of God would be, not a blessing for all nations, but a blessing for Jews and a curse to Gentiles. And this theme developed even further, the rabbis teaching that, contrary to Isaiah’s vision, the nations outside Israel would not be welcomed in at all. Here is a quote from one of the Dead Sea Scrolls: “…the Messiah of Israel shall come, and the chiefs of the clans of Israel shall sit before him, each in the order of his dignity according to his place in the camps and marches.“
That passage goes on to say that no one will be allowed in who is “paralyzed in his feet or hands, or lame, or blind, or deaf, or dumb, or smitten in his flesh with a visible blemish.“
So there was a complete reversal of Isaiah’s prophetic vision. By Jesus’ time, the common conception of the great banquet was that there would be no Gentiles there, nor any Jews who are ’imperfect’, and the highest classes will be seated according to their rank. Isaiah’s open ended vision of international blessing had been all but erased.
Again, it gives us reason to pause. What makes us so sure that we’ve got it right when we look ahead to the Day of Judgment, that we might sing “When the roll is called up yonder I’ll be there…?“
That’s what an anonymous dinner guest in the Scripture story was saying. Here at this gathering in the home of a Pharisee, a man had confidently and carelessly offered a blessing. He made reference to the great banquet at the end of time, the gathering of all the righteous into God’s eternal reward. He pronounces this blessing with all the pride and swagger of the common Jewish re—interpretation of Isaiah’s words. “When the roll is called up yonder I’ll be there.“
To this guest at the Pharisees feast, Jesus issued a warning. Jesus challenged the proud but misinformed assumptions of the day. He did so by delivering a rather sharply pointed parable.
Now, parables are often tricky to interpret. In explaining this parable, I am indebted to Dr. Kenneth Bailey, former professor at Beirut University. He wrote extensively on the parables of Jesus and their understanding among the poorer classes of the Middle East, the kinds of people to whom Jesus would have been speaking 2000 years ago.
In the parable, the master issues a final invitation to his banquet. What we need to understand is that in those days, there was always a double invitation. The first call went out the day before, to get commitments from guests. Then, on the basis of those numbers, the animals or animal would be selected for the feast—a duck, a sheep, or a calf.
Of course, in that hot climate and without refrigeration, once the countdown to the meal has started, it cannot be stopped. With commitments from the guests, the host butchers the animals on the morning of the banquet, to be eaten that evening. The guests who have responded positively to the invitation are honor and duty bound to attend.
When the meal is finally ready, a second and final call goes out. After all, the food takes a while to prepare and no one owned a watch, so guests relied on the hosts to let them know when the meal was ready. The final call was a short one —— now is the time to come. In the parable, it is after this second call that the excuses begin to pour in.
The first excuse has to do with purchased land. A guest says he’s bought a field and must go see it. He’s saying his field more important than his friendship. Admittedly, this guest does say he feels constrained—he must go out. But one wonders, why then did he accept the first invitation the day before? Besides that, now it’s probably late afternoon, and that land is going nowhere!
Those listening to this parable as Jesus told it would assume the guest is lying. No one, not now and especially not then, would buy land without knowing exactly what it looks like. Land was very expensive, and it rarely changed hands. A sale would require a detailed inspection; every square foot would be checked out beforehand. After the inspection, the terms of sale would be discussed. And this discussion could take months. A modern equivalent of this excuse might go something like this: “I would go to the party, but I, uh, just bought a house over the phone and now I’ve got to go and find out where it is and what kind of condition it’s in.“ It’s more than suspicious—it’s unbelievable!
Any host would interpret such an excuse as rudeness. He would see it as a bald—faced lie. The guest had accepted the invitation—by rejecting it now, he dishonors his friend the host. He only partly covers his rudeness when he asks to be excused.
Reflecting on this excuse for not attending the banquet, we can examine ourselves. When we think of Christ’s calling in our own lives, do possessions sometimes keep us from readiness? A couple would attend church, but the weekends are the best time for them to go and enjoy their boat. Or cottage. Or snowmobiles. A young woman has heard God’s call to give generously to the poor, but she has only just enough money to go away for the weekend with her friends to a big music festival. A retiree would have more time and energy to give to ministry, but he’s waited so long to spend his time tinkering in his workshop. Sometimes the distraction of our possessions can be subtle, but the effect is still the same. We are called away from Jesus. What about you? Are there ways that you are counting things more important than your relationship with God?
And there are more guests who refuse to come. The second excuse has to do with purchasing five pairs of oxen. He says, “I have just bought five yoke of oxen, and I’m on my way to try them out. Please excuse me.“ Again, the excuse is so outrageous; listeners are to assume this guest too is being dishonest.
There was a proper way to purchase oxen. Before buying, a potential buyer would want to see a plowing demonstration. It was necessary to see whether or not the two animals were used to one another, to see if they could pull together as a team. In fact, a seller would likely refuse to sell a pair or team of oxen without such a demonstration. And five pairs of oxen bought sight unseen is preposterous. Again, a modern equivalent might be something like this: “I just paid full price for five cars I bought over the Internet. I’m going to go and see what year, make and models they are, and whether any of them will start.“
It is another incredibly lame excuse, not to be believed. And unlike the first guest, this second person does not say he feels compelled to go and test them, he simply says this is what I’m doing. He is somewhat ruder, but still asks to be excused.
In the light of this refusal of the invitation, we might ask ourselves, does our work keep us from readiness? Have you had time to offer yourself freely, not just your leftover time, but a portion of your prime time to God? When the demands of the day crowd your schedule, is Bible reading and prayer, your devotional time, the first commitment you set aside? We may be working harder, working longer hours, always hoping just to get over the top… but at what cost?
Finally, there is a third excuse—a marriage. This excuse is probably true, but it’s still no a good reason to avoid the banquet. You say you got married? Well, so did a whole lot of us. It can’t be that the man had married that same day—that would have been too much on the social calendar for a small town. And furthermore, if the man thought his marriage would keep him from attending the banquet, why did he accept the first invitation?
In addition, some scholars have suggested that his use of somewhat crude language in his reply suggests he is making his very personal needs a higher priority than his friendship with the master of the feast. And this fellow doesn’t even bother asking to be excused.
What about us? In addition to the questions asked about our possessions and our work distracting us from the hospitality of God, we ought to also examine the rest of our lives. Are you in a relationship that you know is contrary to the call of God in your life? Or have the good relationships of marriage, family or friendship become too important in your life? Have they become for you an idol, a distraction from God? Do our personal desires keep us from kingdom readiness, the ability to respond to the invitation of God to come at the end of the journey and be welcomed into the banquet of Christ?
This is the third slap in the face of the master by his invited guests. He is angry at these refusals, so he must be feeling insulted. So now what is going on in Jesus’ parable? What is he saying to those at table with him?
It is this. The leaders of Israel have been told the feast is ready. Jesus has come, the Messiah, and in him the kingdom at hand. But they reject Jesus with lame excuses, objections to his eating habits and Sabbath observance. Their complaints and excuses are based in secondary interpretations of the details of Old Testament law. Christ’s detractors focus on minutiae, and the kingdom of God requires exclusive devotion. Jesus is saying the leaders of Israel started out with a commitment made, and then allowed themselves to be distracted.
Well, the host of the banquet responds to the surprise excuses with a few surprises of his own. You see, the master won’t be put off; he refuses to see his feast wasted. He sends his servant to finds other guests. The poor, the blind, the lame, the crippled of the master’s town. These people are a part of the community, but generally ignored. Here Jesus clearly references those in Israel to whom his own ministry extended.
These newly invited guests receive an invitation of sheer grace. They know they’ve done nothing to deserve his hospitality. They know they can never repay him. But the servant points out that there is still room. The outcasts have been called and gathered, but the hall is not yet full. And still the master of the feast refuses to be dishonored by half a feast. The mission is not yet completed.
The master calls for outsiders to be gathered. Those previously called were from the town. These next guests are called from the countryside. The servant is sent to the well—traveled roads, outside of the community. These next people to be invited are not the poor and lame—these are travelers, on the roads. Here Jesus is pointing ahead to the calling of those outside Israel.
Note what the master says: these especially, the outsiders, must be compelled to come. Again, Dr. Bailey writes this is because of another local custom, for a surprise invitation was usually not to be accepted. The invited guest would be expected to spend 15 minutes objecting to such a surprise invitation! Especially this one; it is an unbelievable offer, too good to be true. A stranger, from outside the city, suddenly invited to such a delightful feast would say, “This cannot be real, I am not deserving.“ Thus the last guests must be compelled to come.
Jesus concludes his parable with a warning. You see, it’s not clear who speaks the final words of the passage. At first glace, we might think it is the master of the feast who says, “I tell you, not one of those men who were invited will get a taste of my banquet.“ But no, in fact, Jesus is speaking for himself. In the original language we can see that here he switches over to the plural “you“ when he says “I tell you…“ and there’s only been one servant all along. Jesus says, “I tell you all“ and so brings the comment back into the Pharisee’s dining room with other dinner guests and to us all—to me and to you. The feast of the parable is Jesus’ own feast, the messianic banquet at the end of the age.
His words are an ominous warning. “Not one of those invited will get a taste of my banquet.“ The exclusion is final. There are no second thoughts, no second chances.
The parable ends with the master’s hall not yet filled. That’s where Jesus left the dinner guests, and that’s where Jesus leaves us. The invitations are being distributed —— what is your response?
There are lessons here for believers, those who have responded to the first call, God’s claim on our lives, with commitment. First, any excuse for refusal to be ready for the final call is a lame one. Anything that might grab our attention is ridiculous in comparison to what’s offered—the eternal and everlasting welcome of God into community with him. Nothing in this world is even close to worth being distracted from the call of Jesus. Second, God can get along without you—there will be no postponing of the banquet. You’ve received the invitation, you’ve committed yourself. Don’t turn back. Stay the course, and live a life of service as preparation to feast at the final call.
There are lessons here also for those who are as yet outside the fellowship of faith, those not yet committed to Christ. By not accepting the invitation, you are missing out on the welcoming embrace of God at the end of the hard and harsh journey of life. Know this: first, the invitation has gone out. It is an invitation with integrity, one not to be dismissed or overlooked. It is a genuine offer—the real deal. You may hesitate, saying, “You don’t understand, I’ve made a mess of my life, I’ve done some really awful things…“
Yes, grace is unbelievable. You are not worthy, there’s nothing you have done to deserve the invitation. Yes, there may be a whole host of reasons why you shouldn’t be there, but they don’t matter, the Lord compels you to come, to respond, to dine at his feast.
The second lesson is that time runs out on the invitation. There is an urgency to the call of Christ. You do not know when the banquet begins. Once it starts, the doors will be closed.
So now let us go back to the opening question: can we sing the old hymn with confidence? What is needed for us to declare confidently, when the roll is called up yonder I’ll be there?
We need to know how it is that we get into the banquet; how it is that we can receive salvation. If we rest in our own accomplishments, or if we think we deserve salvation because our parents were Christians, or because we’ve heard somewhere some teaching that God’s welcome will be given regardless of what we believed or how we lived, we will be greatly and eternally disappointed. If we believe our name is on the roll, is written in the eternal Book of Life, because of what we do, we are lost.
We have the invitation only because of what Christ has done. We need to look to Jesus Christ, to listen and hear what he teaches about the arrangements. After all, it’s his feast. We must recognize that we bring no worthiness of our own to the feast; rather we need to come because of his invitation alone. And we must live undistracted lives, devoted to him, listening for his invitation, because we do not know when the final call will come.
My friends, it’s not our worthiness that brings us to the table or puts your name on the roll, the book of life. It is only in complete dependence on the invitation of the Master.
Prayer
Lord Jesus Christ, we thank you for your open invitation, to come and join in the celebration at the end of time, the great banquet of salvation. We ask that you would remove from our hearts and minds any distraction that might hinder us from being ready to be with you forever. And please fill our lives with grace and peace as a foretaste of what is to come, even as we seek to serve you wholeheartedly, all of our days. In your name we pray, Amen.
Everett Vander Horst
Everett Vander Horst is the senior pastor at Shawnee Park Christian Reformed Church, in Grand Rapids, Michigan. He and his wife Christa have been married for 14 years, and have 3 children: Laura (10), Eric (7) and Jason (5). A Canadian, Everett grew up on a dairy farm in southwestern Ontario. After graduating from Calvin Theological Seminary in 1996, he and Christa moved to British Columbia where Everett was ordained as pastor in the Telkwa Christian Reformed Church. They took the call to Shawnee Park CRC in 2001. When he is not pastoring, Everett enjoys digital photography, fishing as well as building toys and furniture in his basement woodshop.
More >>
