Dinner Time!

The Sermon Study Guide is here.

Revelation 19:6-10; Matthew 25:1-13

February 11/12, 2012 • Portage First UMC

As a pastor, in my nearly nineteen years of ministry, I have officiated at forty-five weddings, an average of 2.3 per year. And while I really try to make each wedding unique, there are similarities in the way wedding works in our culture. There’s the purchase of an expensive engagement ring, and the sometimes surprise presentation of it. There’s the picking of the guest list—who gets to come and who doesn’t, and maybe even more importantly, who sits by whom at the reception. There’s the planning of the ceremony, the picking of a date, the sending out of the invitations. And then, there’s the big day. People gather from all over at the appointed day, hour and location to celebrate the love of this man and woman as they pledge themselves “for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish,” until they are parted by death (UMH 867). Traditions vary from place to place, but the essence of what needs to be done remains the same.

In the first century, weddings were a bit more unpredictable—not in terms of what would happen, but in terms of when they would happen. As we know from our study of Joseph and Mary during Advent, marriages were often arranged. It wasn’t necessarily a matter of a man and woman “falling in love” and deciding to get married. Often that decision was made for them, and then they learned to love each other. Instead of engagement, the couple was “betrothed;” that was a legal standing that required a divorce to bring it to an end. The act of betrothal, according to many sources, was symbolized in the sharing of a cup of wine. The man would pour the cup and offer it to the woman, saying, “By offering this cup, I vow that I am willing to give my life for you.” Once she received the cup, they were bound together. They did not live together or sleep together until the formal marriage; still, they were considered husband and wife. The man would then return home and he would prepare a place for his new bride to come and live. Usually, that meant adding on a room to his family’s home, and the bridge would do and learn things that prepared her mentally and spiritually to be a good wife. At some point, whenever the home for the couple was done, an announcement would go out: “The bridegroom is coming! The bridegroom is coming for his bride!” And, usually at twilight, just as it began to get dark, the groom would go to the place where the bridesmaids were waiting, and together, with lit torches, they would go get the bride and bring her back to their new home. That was beginning of a week-long party, a feast, a celebration of this new family (VanderLaan, Echoes of His Presence, pgs. 11-19; Keener, Bible Background Commentary: New Testament, pg. 116).

Jesus once told a parable about a wedding procession. It begins with the bridegroom approaching, and out of the ten bridesmaids, only five were ready. Only five had their torches prepared; the other five were without oil. They had been waiting for a long time and had fallen asleep, Jesus said. When they hear that the bridegroom is on the way, the five without oil ask the others to share what they have, only to be refused. Now, we think that sounds rather cruel, but Jesus’ point is this: both groups had plenty of time to get ready for the feast. The five foolish bridesmaids wasted their time and did not prepare themselves. When they, in Jesus’ story, go out to try to find oil, they discover no 24-hour Wal-mart and no open convenience store. By the time they get oil, the wedding feast has begun and the door is closed, locked from the inside. They are shut out of the wedding feast because they dishonored the groom and the host by not being prepared (25:1-12; Keener 117). “Therefore,” Jesus says, “keep watch, because you do not know the day or the hour” (25:13).

Now, all that is more than just historical information. It’s important imagery as we come near the end of our study in Revelation. In this evening/morning’s section, we encounter the end of evil and something John calls “the wedding of the Lamb” (19:7). It’s a fascinating image when you consider the parallels between the description of Jesus’ return and how first-century weddings happened. In fact, the New Testament writers often use the image of marriage to describe the relationship between Jesus and his church, just as the Old Testament often described Israel as a bride. Isaiah told the people, “Your Maker is your husband—the Lord Almighty is his name” (54:5). The whole book of Hosea is an extended metaphor describing God as Israel’s husband, and in chapter 2 of that book, God tells the people, “I will betroth you to me forever; I will betroth you in righteousness and justice, in love and compassion (2:19). On into the New Testament, Jesus uses that image repeatedly, using the story of a marriage feast to describe the kingdom of God: “The kingdom of heaven is like a king who prepared a wedding banquet for his son” (Matthew 22:2). And Paul, writer of most of the New Testament, says the marriage covenant is modeled on Jesus’ relationship to the church (Ephesians 5:21-33). He tells the Corinthians, “I promised you to one husband, to Christ” (2 Corinthians 11:2). Throughout the Scriptures, marriage is seen as the ultimate covenant, because in it is represented the relationship between Christ and the church (Wright, Revelation for Everyone, pg. 170; UMH 868). And that’s why in Revelation, the final union of Jesus with his people is pictured as a wedding feast.

The way Biblical theology pictures Jesus’ return is something like this: Jesus made a promise, as the Gospel of John tells us, that he was going away to prepare a place for us. That’s wedding language. He says, “My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am” (John 14:2-3). That’s what a bridegroom did—he went away to prepare a place for his bride to live. And when the place was ready, he would come back for his bride. Paul describes it this way in his letter to the Thessalonians: “For the Lord himself will come down from heaven, with a loud command, with the voice of the archangel and with the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first. After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever” (1 Thessalonians 4:16-17). A loud command—that’s the call of the bridegroom’s friends announcing his arrival. And then Paul describes what everyone in the first century would have understood to be a bridal procession—the guests of the bridegroom come out to meet him and then go with him back to the place of the party. This is not a description of some secret rapture, or some escape plan for believers. This is a picture of a greeting party, going out to meet the one they have been waiting for and then going with him back to the place where the wedding feast will be held (Witherington, Revelation and the End Times, pgs. 20-23). The feast is here, in a renewed and remade earth—the way God intended it to be from the beginning But as I said last week, there will not be any kind of warning. Jesus will come when he’s ready to receive his bride. The invitations have already gone out, and like those first-century wedding guests, we’re to be ready at any time. To spend our days trying to predict what Jesus himself said he did not know is a failure to trust that God holds the future in his hands. That’s why, even though we don’t know when, Paul is still able to tell people, “Therefore encourage one another with these words” (1 Thessalonians 4:18).

That’s the lens, then, through which we see Revelation 19, especially when the angel says to John, “Blessed are those who are invited to the wedding supper of the Lamb!” (19:9). The return of Jesus is a wedding feast. It’s when Jesus and his bride—the church—are finally together. Everything else, every other option in creation has been declined. Evil has been turned back—destroyed. Babylon is no longer a threat. The prostitute has been judged and the bride steps forward. And you know what happens at events like that—even today, at a wedding reception, it’s a time to party. It’s a time to celebrate! In today’s culture, we only have such a party for a few hours. These first-century weddings went on for seven days—for a whole week, they celebrated with the bride and groom. The wedding feast in Revelation has no end. No wonder there is a song of celebration to begin this whole wedding supper. “Hallelujah!” the party goers shout. “For our Lord God Almighty reigns. Let us rejoice and be glad and give him glory! For the wedding of the Lamb has come, and his bride has made herself ready. Fine linen, bright and clean, was given her to wear” (19:6-8).

Now, there are a couple of words in that song that are so familiar to us we don’t realize how surprising they are. The first is the common word, “hallelujah.” It’s a word that literally means “praise God,” even though people use it today in all sorts of contexts. And while you’ll find the word often enough in the Old Testament, especially in the Psalms, in the New Testament, this is the only chapter where you’ll find this word (Wright 169). It’s almost as if the heavens wait until evil has been dealt with finally before they erupt in this kind of praise. Every other time evil has seemed to be defeated, it has only been temporary. Now, finally, evil is done with for good, and the heavens erupt: “Praise God! Hallelujah!” It makes me think, perhaps, we use that word too freely, too easily. It’s a powerful word. Handel, of course, included this Scripture and some other verses from Revelation in a chorus that concludes the second part of his great work, The Messiah. In the context of the whole work, the “Hallelujah” chorus celebrates God’s ultimate victory over the forces of evil and death. When it was first performed in 1743, the King of England was so moved by the composition that he stood in honor of the song and in praise to God. And when the king stands up, everyone stands up. The tradition stuck. It’s still customary to stand for the singing of the Hallelujah Chorus, to give praise to God for his victory over evil and death.

But there’s a second word here I want you to notice. The crowd sings, “Hallelujah! For our Lord God Almighty reigns” (19:6). God is “Almighty,” and aside from one other reference in the New Testament (2 Corinthians 6:18, which is actually a quotation from the Old Testament), the word only appears in Revelation. It literally means “the one who controls all things.” Jesus doesn’t refer to God the Father that way, nor does Paul. But again, this is exactly what John’s churches needed to hear, that no matter how dark and difficult life would get or had gotten, there is one who is in control. God is in control. There is nothing that happens that God is unaware of. That doesn’t mean, as I’ve said often, that God causes everything. It does mean God is in the midst of it all, orchestrating everything to ultimately bring good out of it (cf. Romans 8:28). It is that God whom we worship. It is that God who is worthy of praise. It is that God who will bring an end to the evil that threatens us. That God will not allow Babylon to triumph. If even the death of Jesus could be turned into something good (which it was, because through his death we are given the hope of having our sins forgiven)—then there is nothing God can’t use, even our brokenness, our pain, our wounds. His name is redeemer, and there is nothing the Lord God Almighty won’t use for good. So even if we don’t understand it, we offer our praise because we trust in the Almighty.

One other thing to note in this song of praise, and that’s in verse 8: “Fine linen, bright and clean, was given her to wear” (19:8). What’s going on with that? Jesus once told another parable, this one in Matthew 22, about another wedding banquet where people who were invited made up excuses for not coming, so the host invited people in the streets until the banquet room was filled. And then there’s this strange thing that happens: “When the king came in to see the guests,” Jesus says, “he noticed a man who was not wearing wedding clothes. He asked, ‘How did you get in here without wedding clothes, friend?’ The man was speechless.” And so the man is thrown out of the party, “into the darkness” (Matthew 22:1-14). Now, that’s rather strange. I mean, these folks didn’t know they were going to a wedding banquet. Why would they be expected to have certain clothes to wear? This was and is an honor-based culture. You did certain things to honor your host, and one of them was showing up at a wedding with at least clean clothes. You didn’t just come in from the field with mud on your shoes and straw in your hair. Even the peasants knew this, and so the image here is that the man caught in the wrong clothes didn’t care about honoring his host. He didn’t prepare himself in any way (Keener 105). Even though the invitation was broad, it was still expected that the guests would prepare themselves appropriately (Carson, “Matthew,” Expositor’s Bible Commentary, Vol. 8, pg. 457). In this final wedding banquet, though, not only is appropriate dress expected, it’s actually given to those who come to celebrate. The garments are prepared for the bride; all she has to do—all we have to do is receive those garments, which are, according to John’s comment, “the righteous acts of God’s holy people” (19:8).

Now, this does not mean we work our way into the kingdom, or that our works, our good deeds, somehow earn us a place at God’s table. Rather, when Jesus died on the cross, he made the way for us to enter the kingdom of God. All we have to do is say “yes” to him, accept him into our lives, and repent of our sin, of the ways we have lived in Babylon. Our good works, our “righteous deeds,” are then a response of love to God for welcoming us in. What we do is an outgrowth of who we are. “Being generates doing” (Mulholland, “Revelation,” Cornerstone Biblical Commentary. Vol. 18, pgs. 567, 570). And that’s why a big part of the story of Methodism and of this church has been to reach out in acts of love and compassion, to make the world a better place, to seek to win people to Jesus (remember our mission statement—“becoming a community where all people encounter Jesus Christ”). We want to send invitations to everyone to join the wedding feast. So let’s hear a bit about what that means in the life of this church, how we seek to live out our faith and invite others to come along. That has to do with mission and outreach and hospitality. I visited the Outreach Team meeting this week and I asked them to share the sorts of things they are focusing on now to try to fulfill our mission statement. Take a listen.

Video: Outreach Team

So we’re inviting people to a wedding feast—through welcome, through invitation, through practical acts of service. Throughout our community and our world, we’re continually calling out, “It’s dinner time! Come and feast! Come be part of the bride! Come to the wedding feast!” Now, John and Paul and the rest of the New Testament writers aren’t using that metaphor by accident. What they’re telling us is that marriage is a reflection of what our relationship with Christ should be. What does that mean? Well, first of all, it means that the relationship between Jesus and the Christian should be one of intimate communion. In the very beginning, the model for marriage is that the husband and wife would become “one flesh” (Genesis 2:24). There should be nothing that comes between them, and when you take that into the spiritual life, it implies that we should also have the closest relationship we can with Jesus. How many times are we satisfied with “good enough” in our spiritual life? We come to church once a week or once a month, and that’s “good enough.” Or we read our Bible whenever we feel like it, or we talk to Jesus once a week or so—or only when we need something. How long would a marriage—or any relationship, for that matter—last if you only talked to that other person when you wanted or needed something from them? I’ll tell you how long—hardly at all. In fact, “communication breakdown” is the second leading cause of divorce today, right after adultery. So how long will our relationship with Jesus last if we never spend time praying, reading the Scriptures or worshipping?

The second element of marriage reflected in our relationship with Jesus is joy—the joy of loving and of being loved. “The joy of the Lord is your strength,” Nehemiah said (8:10), and he said that in the context of worship, at a time when the people were rediscovering what it meant to follow God’s way of life. They were weeping because they knew how badly they had failed, and Nehemiah (along with Ezra the priest) encourages them. Basically he says, “Forget about the past. Once you’ve repented, move on. Celebrate, because God loves you enough to forgive you. Find joy in that!” The kingdom of God, Tony Campolo once said, is a party—a place of joy. I don’t know what you picture when you think of heaven. Many in our culture picture people sitting on clouds strumming harps. I don’t know, maybe that is something you would look forward to, but that’s not for me. Harps? Really? For eternity? The Biblical picture is one of joy and celebration, a place where our hearts find everlasting contentment in God’s presence. I thought of that this week when I ventured over to the Chocolate Extravaganza at Miller’s Assisted Living. I commented to Susie and Deb, who went with me, that heaven must have chocolate—otherwise, how could it be a place of joy? Of course, a bit later, after I had eaten too much chocolate, my stomach didn’t exactly feel like heaven! But nevertheless—Jesus brings joy to us now and for eternity. And just one more word about that—joy is different from happiness. Happiness is circumstantial and can change as fast as your Facebook status. Joy is that deep-down confidence that God is good and will be with us through whatever comes. That’s the truth John is constantly reminding us of in this Revelation, and especially in this moment when it’s dinner time, when the wedding feast begins, when the dancing and the celebration begins. It’s a time of joy. Biblical scholar William Barclay once said, “If Christianity does not bring joy, it does not bring anything” (The Revelation of John, Volume 2, pg. 173).

Third, marriage is marked by fidelity, or faithfulness. Adultery is still the number one reason for divorce today. “No marriage can last without fidelity,” though some can make it through a time of unfaithfulness. But in the same way, we’re called to be faithful to Jesus and him alone. When we go to a wedding, we’re recognizing that the bride and groom have chosen not only to say “yes” to each other, but to say “no” to everyone and everything else. Too often, though, we say “yes” to Jesus, but only in a “sort of” kind of way. We want to worship Jesus plus…Jesus plus money, Jesus plus power, Jesus plus stuff, Jesus plus…fill in the blank. We give thanks that Jesus is so faithful to us, but do we show the same faithfulness to him? Those who come to the marriage feast of the Lamb are those who are marked by fidelity.

And, finally, they are also marked by love. It’s love that enables that kind of faithfulness, that kind of relationship with Jesus. Elsewhere, John put it this way: “We love because he first loved us” (1 John 4:19). There’s that word “agape” again—the word that means unconditional love, love with no strings attached. Not “I love you if…” but “I love you because you are.” We love Jesus that way because he first loved us that way. Those who are invited to dinner time, to the wedding feast of the Lamb, are marked by intimate communion, joy, fidelity and love (Barclay 173).

You know, in all of the forty-five weddings I have done, there is a favorite moment I have. It’s the same every time, and it’s a moment that happens at the very beginning. Oh, there are many great moments—the sharing of the vows, the exchanging of the rings, the moment at the reception where one of them smashes cake into the face of the other—but none of those are my favorite moment. When the wedding begins, and the men are all lined up in front, and the bridesmaids have found their way down the aisle despite being blinded by flashbulbs— there’s that moment when the bride enters. Everyone stands and turns and looks at her, radiantly beautiful, but I have the best seat in the house at that moment. Not only can I see the bride, but I can also see the groom. And without exception, I have watched forty-five men break into the biggest smile as they see the one they love, dressed in white, coming down the aisle to pledge her love to him for the rest of their lives. It’s a fantastic moment, and it always makes me smile. But you know, it also makes me long for that moment when I look up and see Jesus standing there, waiting for us, the church, his bride, the one he loved enough to give his life for. Can we even begin to imagine the love that will be in his eyes at that moment? Can we even begin to fathom the celebration that will take place at that moment? Don’t you want to be there? Don’t you want everyone you know and love to be there, too? It will be dinner time—it will be time for celebration. When Jesus returns and his bride, the church, is joined with him, creation will rejoice because that’s the moment history is leading toward. I can’t wait for that moment, for that wedding day.