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Matthew 21:28-32; Luke 14:15-24

The Pew Research Center shows that a growing number of Americans are religiously unaffiliated--known as “nones” for the way they answer that question on a census poll. Here’s the top reason they give for why: “I just question a lot of religious teachings.” The next most popular reason is an aversion to the public stances that certain religious groups have taken on social/political issues. Well shoot...I question a lot of religious teachings and really dislike a lot of the public statements coming from so-called “Christians,” too. I really dislike the “prosperity gospel” which has turned faith into a money-making enterprise, largely by preying on the poor and vulnerable. You know who else questioned a lot of traditional religious teachings and showed great disdain for the public face of popular religion? Jesus.

I’ve had a number of great conversations with non-religious folk over the years who have expressed a genuine admiration for Jesus, who he was and what he did...they either don’t see the connection between his ministry and the modern church (which leads back to an aversion to the corporate church), or they get hung up on the whole God-man thing (which ultimately leads back to questioning religious teachings). What saddens me is that these folks who admire Jesus and his teachings feel like they don’t have a place at the table...feel like they don’t belong, or feel like they don’t want to. They get an invitation to the feast and say: No thanks.

I’m going to go out on a limb here and suggest that a large portion of Jesus’ ministry was to the “nones” of his time. He was also ministering to the Jews, hence the constant use of scripture, visits to synagogues and to the temple, confrontations with Pharisees, Sadducees, scribes and legal experts. But look at his table ministry...look at how many meals he shared with those who had been either kicked out of religious groups for “breaking the rules”, or who had no desire to be a part of those religious groups, or who had simply been raised in a culture or family where religion wasn’t that important. This group included the “tax collectors” and “prostitutes” to which Jesus refers in his Matthean parable about the two sons.

When Jesus tells stories about God’s vision for the “religious community” he often describes a great feast. Which leads me to thinking, there are many reasons why the “nones” reject religion, but do you know what no one says? No one ever says that the reason they avoid church is because “they don’t like to eat.” The parable of the wedding feast is one such story about a great feast, which is fittingly told by Jesus while reclining at a banquet in the home of a Pharisee. They’re sitting around listening to Jesus talk about God and God’s kingdom, and one of those listening pipes up to offer what most commentators believe to be a smug remark: “Blessed is he who shall eat bread in the kingdom of God.” I say smug because, as Fred Craddock explains, “apparently the man was not only enjoying the banquet before him but felt confident of a reserved seat at the messianic banquet in God’s kingdom (Craddock, 179).” I imagine Jesus nodding while inside thinking, “Wow...you guys are so vain. I can see why those great folks I was eating with last week don’t really want to be a part of what you’re doing.” But, of course, he doesn’t say this out loud (though do keep in mind that he has just come from the temple where he has flipped the tables of those who were trying to turn religion into a money-making enterprise). No, instead of shaming this man for his smug sense of self-righteousness, Jesus tells a parable about a great feast. And when this smug young man “looks over at the guests at table in Jesus’ story, he sees neither himself nor anyone from his circle of friends (Craddock, 179).”

In my experience with the religiously unaffiliated I am able to draw connections to the first son, who says “No thanks,” to his father’s invitation but shows up to do good work. Many say no thanks to the invitation simply because it comes from “the church” or from “God.” While I’m sorry that that’s the case, I get it. For those unaffiliated with a church, the most prominent messages they get about “what religion is” comes from organizations wealthy enough to buy television spots and highway billboards which pridefully promote religion as a possession of the righteous, while looking down their nose at the “nones.” They hear messages about who belongs at the table, and who does not; messages about a table that Jesus would likely be inclined to flip upside down. I wish more people could see what the small church is doing, the consistent ways in which you let God’s love shine, the little things you do, the cards and calls and compassion you share, the money you raise to feed and clothe and provide dignity to the poor and vulnerable. But I also want to avoid becoming too smug, myself...to show off to the right hand what the left hand is doing.

Deep down, I trust each of you as ambassadors of God’s invitation, which ultimately isn’t an invitation to a particular religion, or pew, but an invitation to RSVP to a great, great love. One person stands out to me as a special type of ambassador of this great love. He never explicitly mentioned God or Jesus or church, but he taught me how to love my neighbor and how to love myself. He gave me weekly opportunities to RSVP to a great, great love when he sang, “It’s you I like.” I’m talking, of course, of Fred McFeely Rogers of Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood. I’d like to close with a few of his remarks from a commencement address he gave at Dartmouth College in 2002, not long before he died.

“Our world hangs like a magnificent jewel in the vastness of space. Every one of us is a part of that jewel, a facet of that jewel, and in the perspective of infinity, our differences our infinitesimal. We are intimately related, may we never even pretend that we are not.

“Have you heard my favorite story that came from the Seattle Special Olympics? Well, for the hundred-yard dash there were nine contestants, all of them ‘so-called’ physically or mentally disabled. All nine of them assembled at the starting line and at the sound of the gun they took off. But not long afterward one little boy stumbled and fell, and hurt his knee and began to cry. The other eight children heard him crying, they slowed down, turned around, and ran back to him. Every one of them ran back to him. One little girl with Down Syndrome bent down and kissed the boy and said ‘This will make it better.’ The little boy got up, and he and the rest of the runners linked their arms together and joyfully walked to the finish line. They all finished the race at the same time. And when they did, everyone in that stadium stood up and clapped and whistled and cheered for a long, long time. People who were there are still telling the story with great delight. And you know why, because deep down we know that what matters in this life is more than winning for ourselves. What really matters is helping others win, too--even if it means slowing down and changing our course now and then...

“I’m very much interested in choices, and what it is, and who it is that enable us as human beings to make the choices we make all through our lives. What choices lead to ethnic cleansing? What choices lead to healing? What choices lead to the destruction of the environment, the erosion of the Sabbath, suicide bombings, or teenagers shooting teachers? What choices encourage heroism in the midst of chaos?

“I have a lot of framed things in my office which people have given to me through the years, and on my walls are Greek and Hebrew and Russian and Chinese and beside my chair is a French sentence from Saint-Exupéry’s Little Prince, it reads, ‘L’essentiel sont invisible pour les yeux.’ ‘What is essential is invisible to the eye.’ Well, what is essential about you? And who are those who have helped you become the person you are?...Anyone who has ever been able to sustain a good work has had at least one person, and often many, who have believed in [them]. We just don’t get to be competent human beings without a lot of different investments from others.

“I’d like to give you all an invisible gift. A gift of a silent minute to think about those who have helped you become who you are today. Some of them may be here right now, some of them may be far away, some of them may even be in heaven. But wherever they are, if they’ve loved you and encouraged you, and wanted what was best in life for you, they’re right inside of you. And I feel that you deserve quiet time...to devote some thought to them. So let’s just take a minute to devote to those who have cared about us, all along the way. One silent minute.

“Whomever you’ve been thinking about, imagine how grateful they must be that during your silent times you remember how important they are to you (Fred McFeely Rogers, 2002 Dartmouth College Commencement).”

As you gather at great feasts this week, may you take time to give thanks for those who have given you the opportunity to RSVP to a great, great love. And also know this, I will be giving thanks for each and every one of you. Amen.