Caring

Invite Everyone

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Invite Everyone” Matthew 22:1-14

July third was the wedding of the decade as singer-songwriter Taylor Swift and Kansas City Chief’s tight end Travis Kelce tied the knot in Madison Square Garden with 1,000 of their closest friends in attendance. The bride and groom both wore white—a custom haute couture gown and a hand-stitched tuxedo by the fashion icons at Christian Dior. Tatytay’s ring featured an eight-carat Old Mine brilliant-cut diamond. In attendance? A who’s who of celebrities, from Hollywood stars Tom Hanks and Julia Roberts to music icons Paul McCartney and Miranda Lambert to sports superstars Olympian Simone Beils and quarterback Tom Brady.

The dinner was sumptuous. Food stations served everything from steaks and seafood to burgers and fries. A dessert table featured no fewer than thirty cakes, along with Pop-Tarts, cookies, and an assortment of pastries. Multiple bars offered drinks, including 3 signature cocktails, specially crafted for the nuptials.

Taylor and Travis wanted everyone to rejoice with them, so they made $26 million in charitable gifts to food banks, children’s hospitals, educational programs, and an animal rescue organization. It was a party for the ages with music and dancing continuing into the early hours of the morning. Invitations were the hottest ticket in town. Even guests who love to spill the tea signed non-disclosure agreements and checked their cell phones at the door.

Jesus told a story about a wedding for the ages. The King’s son was tying the knot and no expense would be spared on the royal wedding. The marriage contract was signed. The rabbi was ready. The fatted calves would be roasted to perfection. The finest wines would be poured out. The musicians were tuning up. There would be dancing and singing and rejoicing all night long.

There was only one problem. The guests of honor wouldn’t come. In actions that were downright treasonous, they made excuses, then mistreated and murdered the King’s envoys. Once the rebellion was quashed, an entirely new guestlist was invited to the wedding banquet. Everyone. Literally, everyone, regardless of social standing, income, age, or ability got an invitation. In they came with great rejoicing, filling the courts of the king with loud shouts of “Huzzah!” and the sounds of celebration.

Jesus said that this story is about the Kingdom of Heaven. To understand his message, context is everything. As Jesus spoke those words, he was in Jerusalem at the Temple. Passover was near and pilgrims had flocked to the holy city from across the empire. Although Jesus found a warm welcome from the crowds who were eager to hear what he had to say, those who controlled the Temple—the chief priests, scribes, and influential elders of the Sanhedrin—were not so happy to see him. They questioned his authority, challenged his teachings, and tried to insinuate that he was a threat to the empire. Later that week, when Jesus finished spinning parables and interpreting scripture, those powerful opponents would put their heads together and plot his arrest and execution. On Friday, Jesus would hang upon the cross.

Considering that context, Jesus’ scary, exaggerated story of a fabulous wedding feast, rebellious subjects, and an angry king becomes a thinly veiled critique of the wealthy and powerful Temple elite, who were planning his demise. Jesus began his public ministry with the words, “The Kingdom of Heaven has come near.” Now as his public ministry came to a close, he used this Kingdom parable to challenge those who would deny and murder him. Jesus was saying, “Open your eyes, people. Don’t you know the bridegroom when you see him? God’s banquet is in full swing. You are meant to be honored guests. Get over yourselves, come on in, and celebrate with me.”

When we hear Jesus’ story, we are tempted to pass judgment. We shake our heads and tsk, tsk, tsk over those first century insiders who were blind to the work of God and the presence of the Kingdom. We are tempted to pass judgment on people here and now, too, like our atheist neighbors who think our convictions of faith are stuff and nonsense. It’s tempting to pass judgment on the powerful elite of our day, who are too busy building their own kingdoms to serve God’s Kingdom. It’s tempting to pass judgment on contemporary Christians who are eager for the Kingdom, but can’t be bothered to serve it, who can’t be bothered to clothe themselves in the wedding garment of love, compassion, justice, and humility.

But I suspect that we’ve all had moments when we have received the King’s invitation and allowed it to go unanswered. Our calendars are crowded, and it’s hard to make time for Jesus in our busy schedules. We skip church, forego Bible Study, and fall asleep at night before we can say our prayers. Some days, we struggle to allow the King to have authority in our lives. Afterall, we have big commitments to work, family, and community that demand our time and our better selves. Maybe we can sprinkle the King around the edges of all that important stuff. We may even be ashamed of the gospel. We play down our convictions of faith. Our neighbors may know us as parents, grandparents, teachers, healthcare providers, retirees, or Ice Palace Workers, but do they know we are Christians?  Do we acknowledge that the most important relationship that we will ever have is our relationship with God through Christ?  Do we see that the most important mission that we will ever have is to forge a world where the limitless love of God is known by all? 

We say, “No,” to the Kingdom. Given enough time and enough “Nos,” our life begins to feel like we’re living in that burned-out city or that outer darkness of bitter tears and gnashing teeth that Jesus talked about in his parable.

But if we listen with the ears of our hearts this morning, we can hear it. The Wedding Feast is on. The bridegroom is here. There is a place at the banquet table with our name on it. There is room on the dance floor for all who will put on their boogie shoes. Won’t we join Jesus in the celebration? Won’t we join him in making the Kingdom of God come alive for our community? We are all invited, my friends. Everyone. How will we respond?

We’ll say “yes” to the King by feeding hungry people. 47.9 million Americans experience food insecurity. That means they will lack reliable access to sufficient food this year. With rising food prices, that number is also rising. Globally more than two billion people are hungry. Whether we lace up our shoes and walk in the CROP Walk, bring peanut butter and jelly to the Food Pantry collection bin, glean potatoes, or donate two-cents-a-meal, we will say “yes” to the King’s invitation.

I hope that a couple of you will say “yes” to the King’s invitation by sharing a story about your life of faith on Reformation Sunday. In what has become one of our favorite Sundays of the year, we listen deeply to stories of those blessed moments in life when we have known the goodness of the Lord. It could be a story of a life lesson learned. It could be a story of a challenge overcome. It could be a story of the surprising Jesus, who comes to us in the guise of a needy neighbor, a child, a wise mentor, or even the good creation. Your “yes” will inspire all our “yeses” as we consider how we will make a Kingdom difference through the church in 2027.

Our “yes” to the King could look a lot like Christian caring. We’ll visit with a lonely neighbor. We’ll listen compassionately as a friend shares their struggles. We’ll extend a kind invitation for a meal or a walk or a church service. Perhaps we’ll gift a prayer bear, some flowers, or a prayer shawl to someone who needs love. We’ll pray for others, inviting the King to be present and powerful for those who feel alone and powerless.

All those “yeses” will serve the Kingdom. All those “yeses” will nudge this fearful and broken world a little closer to the beautiful feast in the Kingdom of God. All those “yeses” are like being an honored guest at the wedding of the decade, at a wedding for the ages. My friends, the table is set. The savory smells of the feast waft from the kitchen. The dessert table beckons. The champagne is about to be poured. The musicians are tuning up. Consider this your royal invitation.

Resources

David Lose. “Preaching an Ugly Parable” in …in the Mean Time, October 6, 2014.  Accessed on-line at http://www.davidlose.net/2014/10/pentecost-18-a-preaching-an-ugly-parable/

Lance Pape. “Commentary on Matthew 22:1-14” in Preaching This Week, October 12, 2014.  Accessed on-line at http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2204

Carolyn J. Sharp. “Commentary on Matthew 22:1-14” in Preaching This Week, October 11, 2026.  Accessed on-line at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-28/commentary-on-matthew-221-14-10

Rachel DeSantis. “Taylor Swift Found ‘Happily Ever After’ with Travis Kelce. All the Details from the ‘Fairy-Tale’ Wedding” in People, July 7, 2026. Accessed online at https://people.com/taylor-swift-travis-kelce-all-the-details-fairy-tale-wedding-exclusive-12013138

Editors. “They’re Married! Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce’s Wedding Details” in The Knot, July 7, 2026. Accessed online at https://www.theknot.com/content/taylor-swift-wedding

Matthew 22:1-14

22 Once more Jesus spoke to them in parables, saying: 2 “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son. 3 He sent his slaves to call those who had been invited to the wedding banquet, but they would not come. 4 Again he sent other slaves, saying, ‘Tell those who have been invited: Look, I have prepared my dinner, my oxen and my fat calves have been slaughtered, and everything is ready; come to the wedding banquet.’ 5 But they made light of it and went away, one to his farm, another to his business, 6 while the rest seized his slaves, mistreated them, and killed them. 7 The king was enraged. He sent his troops, destroyed those murderers, and burned their city. 8 Then he said to his slaves, ‘The wedding is ready, but those invited were not worthy. 9 Go therefore into the main streets and invite everyone you find to the wedding banquet.’ 10 Those slaves went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad, so the wedding hall was filled with guests. 11 “But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing a wedding robe, 12 and he said to him, ‘Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?’ And he was speechless. 13 Then the king said to the attendants, ‘Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ 14 For many are called, but few are chosen.”

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The Caring Community

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The Caring Community” Psalm 136

In the spirit of our tradition of sharing testimonies on Reformation Sunday, I’m stepping away from a regular sermon to share a little of my own story – which is really our story.

When I moved to Saranac Lake from the Chicago area, almost 19 years ago, I knew that I had my work cut out for me. This church had been through a lot. Many people had left. Among those who remained, there were factions. Harsh things had been said. Hurt feelings were abundant. We had trouble with what our interim Pastor Carol Drew astutely labeled “malicious gossip.” On top of that, we were looking at a $45,000 deficit budget and had exhausted much of our available savings.

Perhaps our biggest problem would be cultivating a caring community. We didn’t trust one another. We didn’t feel safe sharing our family concerns or health troubles. At first, we didn’t even feel comfortable naming our joys and concerns on Sunday mornings because you never knew if your personal business might become the afternoon chatter at the DeChantal. Healing would take time and hard work.

We began by changing our deacons, shifting their responsibilities to better meet the biblical diaconal role of Christian caregivers. Deacons stopped planning potlucks. Instead, they began to build skills like listening, keeping confidentiality, visiting, and praying with others. Two by two, they went out to visit our homebound members and friends. They also offered caring hospitality for funeral and memorial services. They did some good cooking – delivering meals for folks going through surgeries, chemotherapy, or having a tough time. They were a wonderful comfort to our aging members of that greatest generation.

It didn’t stop with the deacons. One day, Priscilla Goss returned from a visit to her cousin in Virginia with a stuffed bear. He was a cute little fellow with a bowtie and a ribbon around his neck with a little sign that said he was a blessing bear. He had been living in her cousin’s church, just waiting to be taken home to someone who needed extra love. What a sweet idea! Soon, our pews had sprouted a batch of bears. The late Bob Brown always kept an eye open for bears and would visit me like Santa several times a year with a big bag of furry friends. Over the years, many of us have taken bears out to bring a much-needed smile to those who needed it.

Another dimension of our caring ministry emerged when we formed the Heart & Hands Circle, which brings together knitters and crocheters once a month. They pray and get busy, making prayer shawls, baby blankets, and lap robes. Going through chemotherapy? You need a warm shawl to wrap around your shoulders. Recovering from knee surgery? A lap robe! New addition to the family? Break out the baby blanket! Since its inception, the group has sent out about 140 of these wonderful handmade creations to bless us.

Of course, there are more ways that we have grown as a caring community: the prayer chain, the deacons fund, our commitments to Samaritan House and the Food Pantry. How about the cookie bomb, Parent’s Night Out, and those wonderful summer bouquets that we take out weekly? We care.  People have noticed, too. Visitors often remark that ours is a warm and welcoming community. Thank you, Jesus!

I don’t think I truly realized the depth of caring in this church until I was diagnosed with breast cancer and underwent some big surgeries. I can’t begin to express how thankful I am for all the love and care that came my way. And I thought you might like to see and hear some of the special ways that your caring was shown. I even brought a little “show and tell.” So, I’ll name some things, and you’ll respond with the words, “Thank, God!” Are you ready?

There has been plenty of good food! Home-made dinners, baked goods, sweet treats, birthday cake, and blueberry jelly. Thank God!

There have been flowers! Fancy florist bouquets, giant mums, garden flowers, and a 3-D paper arrangement that came all the way from MN. Thank God!

I’ve gotten lots of get well wishes! Cards, letters, emails, texts, Facebook posts, and a sweet little message on the chalkboard outside our front door. Thank God!

There have been gift certificates and fun gifts! Nori’s, Grizzle T’s, more Nori’s, and Adirondack Therapeutics; a little gourd, a little pumpkin, dumb bells, and what every pastor needs: corgi socks. Thank God!

There have been contributions of the pastor medical fund! Big gifts, little gifts and everything in between, donations that have helped us with those huge expenses. Thank God!

There have been abundant prayers! In worship, in homes, on the prayer chain, on Facebook, over the phone, and even in other churches and around the tables of local boards and charities. Thank God!

Thank God and thank you! This is what a caring Christian community is all about. We’ve come a long way, baby! Thank God!

Psalm 136

O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good,
    for his steadfast love endures forever.
2 O give thanks to the God of gods,
    for his steadfast love endures forever.
3 O give thanks to the Lord of lords,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;

4 who alone does great wonders,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
5 who by understanding made the heavens,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
6 who spread out the earth on the waters,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
7 who made the great lights,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
8 the sun to rule over the day,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
9 the moon and stars to rule over the night,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;

10 who struck Egypt through their firstborn,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
11 and brought Israel out from among them,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
12 with a strong hand and an outstretched arm,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
13 who divided the Red Sea[a] in two,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
14 and made Israel pass through the midst of it,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
15 but overthrew Pharaoh and his army in the Red Sea,[b]
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
16 who led his people through the wilderness,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
who made water flow from the rock,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;[c]
17 who struck down great kings,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
18 and killed famous kings,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
19 Sihon, king of the Amorites,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
20 and Og, king of Bashan,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
21 and gave their land as a heritage,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
22 a heritage to his servant Israel,
    for his steadfast love endures forever.

23 It is he who remembered us in our low estate,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
24 and rescued us from our foes,
    for his steadfast love endures forever;
25 who gives food to all flesh,
    for his steadfast love endures forever.

26 O give thanks to the God of heaven,
    for his steadfast love endures forever.

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On Each of Us

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “On Each of Us” Acts 2:1-13

Anyone who has lived in a foreign country for an extended period of time can affirm how hungry we become for the sound of our own language.  My classmates and I had been living in Switzerland for about three months when culture shock set in. We were exhausted by trying to decipher the nearly incomprehensible accents of Swiss-German.  We were sick of the mockery of Swiss students, who thought we were all cowboys, Madonna, or surfer dudes.  We had had more than our fill of sausages, Smurfs, mopeds, bidets, smelly cheese, and toilets with observation platforms.

Then one day, my friends and I were wandering through a labyrinth of displays at a cultural expo when we heard something that made our hearts beat a little faster: the familiar twang of country music.  With ears tuned to that beacon, we zeroed in on the source: a booth where women were speaking English, not the clipped rhythm of British English, not the thick brogue of the Scots, not the lilt of the Irish, but real American English.  It felt like home: warm, welcoming, and safe.

On that first Pentecost, there were devout Jews living in Jerusalem from every nation under heaven, from North Africa to Mesopotamia to Rome.  I suspect that those who had been sojourning for a long time were hungry for the sound of their mother tongue.  They were strangers in a strange land, and no one let them forget it.  They were weary of the overweening pride of the priests in the Temple and shocked by the exorbitant price of lodging.  They were missing the tastes of home and thoroughly sick of falafel. 

Then, as they were walking to morning prayer, came the rush of a violent wind, followed by a sound that was music to their ears. For each one heard in his or her own language the story of God’s great deeds of power and the truth of God’s immeasurable love for them, the love revealed in Jesus.  In that foreign city, surrounded by a sea of strange people and foreign languages, each heard the language they most needed to hear.  It must have felt like home: warm, welcoming, and safe.

When we think about Pentecost, we tend to focus on the disciples.  We remember Peter’s powerful proclamation that inspired 3,000 people to make the choice for Jesus. We imagine Philip finding the courage and vision to take the good news and go to the Samaritans and that Ethiopian eunuch.  We consider James, who stayed put in Jerusalem and thanklessly worked, year after year, to teach the Jewish people the gospel of Jesus until his enemies put him to the sword.  When the Spirit came with rushing wind and tongues of flame, it empowered those disciples to do extraordinary, heroic, and miraculous deeds in service to the Kingdom of God.

Yet a closer reading of the Pentecost story reminds us that 120 followers of Jesus were gathered together in that place when that wind from God blew and the flames danced above their heads.  There were twelve disciples.  Another seven men were present who would become the first deacons.  There were the largely unnamed women who provided for Jesus, including Mary Magdalene, Susannah, and Joanna.  There were Jesus’ brothers and mother.  Even if we are generous with the math, that leaves about ninety other people who were there in that Upper Room at Pentecost—ninety people, whom we’ve never heard of, were filled with the Spirit at Pentecost.  We don’t know their stories.

Back at that cultural expo in the Basel, Switzerland of my college days, we discovered that those speakers of our mother tongue were American ex-patriot women.  Their lives had landed them abroad for decades. They taught at the university or were chemists with CIBA-GEIGY.  Their husbands were titans of industry or wizards of global finance.  Some had raised families in that foreign land, children who spoke the strange sounds of Swiss-German with just as much fluency as they did English.  Each week, those women gathered in one another’s homes to drink coffee, speak English, and navigate together the difficulty of being strangers in a strange land.

They could have been our mothers or grandmothers as they turned to us with the listening ears and compassionate care that we all need when we fear that we are alone in the dark, a long way from home. They didn’t have to be so nice, but they were. Each of them, in her own way, was extraordinary in her ordinary kindness.  There were smiles and hugs and cups of coffee.  In days to come, there were bowls of chili and slices of apple pie that tasted just like home.  And in some way when we were with them, we were home, even if it was only for an hour or so at a time in the midst of that sea of indifferent faces and other languages.

I trust that on that first Pentecost the nameless ninety went out into the streets of Jerusalem to be extraordinary in their ordinary ways.  They were kind and welcoming.  They listened and cared.  They were a lot like those American ex-patriot women I met in Basel.  In their willingness to love, they revealed that other love, the Great Love that spins the whirling planets, puffs into our lungs the breath of life, and waits to welcome us at the last.  They showed forth the holy love that walked this world in Jesus.  Filled with the Spirit, the unknown ninety went forth in their quiet, quaint, and ordinary ways to speak other languages that made the world feel like home to people who feared they were alone in the dark.

As we celebrate that first Pentecost and the falling of the Spirit upon all those named and nameless followers of Jesus, may we remember that the Holy Spirit rests upon each of us.  Empowered by the Spirit, some of us may go forth to serve the Kingdom in ways that are truly remarkable and well-worthy of the disciples.  Yet most of us will be like the ninety.  We’ll go forth to speak the languages that others long to hear in a world that feels lonely, unsafe, and far from home.  It may surprise us to learn that we are already fluent in the loving language that Jesus spoke so eloquently, the language that our neighbors long to hear.

We can speak the language of prayer.  We’ll lay a hand on the shoulder of a hurting friend and seek some holy help.  We’ll pray with the headlines, lifting up the victims of school shootings, natural disasters, and the tragedy of war.  We’ll pray for those whom we love, gently naming the worries and fears that plague every family and trusting the Lord to be at work.  We are fluent in prayer.

We can speak the language of caring.  We’ll feed hungry people with monthly food offerings. We’ll share the gospel of fresh, church-grown vegetables.  We’ll testify with toilet paper and paper towels for Grace Pantry. We’ll wrap hurting neighbors in prayer shawls made with love.  We’ll cheer friends with the gift of a prayer bear.  We’ll bless folks through times of crisis with help from the deacons’ fund. We are fluent in care.

We can speak the language of welcome.  We’ll take the time to truly see our vulnerable neighbors, to notice, greet, and listen.  We’ll reach out with concern for those who feel invisible, due to advancing age or growing disability.  We’ll greet and honor children, whose voices are often dismissed.  We’ll embrace diversity as God’s wondrous and stunning plan for humanity.  We’ll welcome students who feel like strangers in a strange land as they contend with sub-zero temperatures, long dark winters, and cafeteria food. We are fluent in the language of welcome.

By the power of the Spirit, each of us can be extraordinary in our ordinary, everyday ways.  Through our prayer, caring, and welcome, this world may even begin to feel like home for those who fear they are alone in the dark.  Let us go forth to speak the languages that others need to hear.  Amen.

Resources:

Karl Kuhn. “Commentary on Acts 2:1-21” in Preaching This Week, June 5, 2022. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Debra J. Mumford. Amy Oden. “Commentary on Acts 2:1-21” in Preaching This Week, May 31, 2020. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Amy Oden. “Commentary on Acts 2:1-21” in Preaching This Week, June 9, 2019. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Greg Carey. Amy Oden. “Commentary on Acts 2:1-21” in Preaching This Week, May 20, 2018. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Mikeal C. Parsons. “Commentary on Acts 2:1-21” in Preaching This Week, June 8, 2014. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.

Acts 2:1-13

2 When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. 2 And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. 3 Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. 4 All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability. 5 Now there were devout Jews from every people under heaven living in Jerusalem. 6 And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. 7 Amazed and astonished, they asked, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? 8 And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? 9 Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, 10 Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, 11 Cretans and Arabs—in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.” 12 All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, “What does this mean?” 13 But others sneered and said, “They are filled with new wine.”

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