28th Sunday in Ordinary Time, Oct.

9, 2011 (Isaiah 25:6-10; Philippians 4:12-14, 19-20; Matthew 22:1-14) In almost forty years of celebrating funeral liturgies, I think todays first reading from Isaiah is probably the most frequently chosen. The vision is of a banquet with good food and choice wines. The banquet, in Isaiahs vision, is for all peoples, which is a surprise, because so often the promise of a better future is for Israel only. This outreach to all peoples is relatively rare among the prophets. However, there was a certain, limited period during the sixth century BC when prophetic utterances took on a kind of universalist tone. Such passages are scattered throughout Isaiahs prophecies including such passages as Is.2:2-4, where swords shall be beaten into plowshares; and in todays reading, where the veil that veils all people will be removed and death will be destroyed forever. In Is.60:1-12, the nations of the earth will come to Jerusalem bearing tribute to the Lords anointed. In all these cases the Lord is the agent of change, as the Lord reasserts power and control over all peoples and over all creation. But this universalist (we might even say ecumenical) theology ended with Ezra and Nehemiah, and the outreach to the nations ended. Then it became time to purify the bloodline, to end inter-marriages with non-Jews. The rift with Samaritans became pronounced, precisely because so many had intermarried with Gentiles. Fidelity to the law of Moses and the words of the prophets became the main focus of becoming righteous. Universalism was dead. Even Isaiah returns to exclusivist terms when he notes that the hand of the Lord will rest on this mountain. That refers to Jerusalem and Mt. Zion and all that they represent. What seems to grip people the most about this reading is the promise that the Lord of hosts will destroy death forever. Death really does hang like a veil of unknowing for all people. Death really does entangle all people in its web. The idea that the Lord would/will destroy death forever becomes a kind of victory shout by those who mourn. It gives the mourners hope during a devastating time. The Gospel tells the parable of the wedding banquet thrown by a king for his son. After the original invitees ignored the invitation or joined in killing the kings servants, the king sent troops to destroy their city. Some think this was a veiled reference to the burning of Jerusalem, which happened in 70 AD. The invitation is then extended to others, bad and good alike. The one who is there without the wedding garment has violated protocol. To accept a kings invitation to a banquet means one accepts the responsibility of dressing appropriately. This guest was shamed into silence and was thrown out of the banquet hall. It likely means that for the baptized who have accepted the invitation to the kings banquet, they accept the responsibility to live virtuous lives,

or risk ejection into the darkness outside, where there will be wailing and grinding of teeth. Paul nears the end of his letter to the Philippians, recounting his own example of knowing both feast and famine. He has learned the secret of enduring both conditions by clinging to Christ who strengthens him in all things. He adds a word of thanks for some gift they had sent him, probably during his imprisonment. He concludes by praying the Lord to care for them in all situations, as they have done for him by their gift. He means essentially, May God bless you in the same way that you have blessed me. Fr. Lawrence Hummer