Section 1 – Introduction: The Search and the Invitation
Picture the best church potluck you’ve ever attended.
Tables sag under the weight of steaming casseroles, vege meatloaf, fragrant breads, and desserts that dare you to try “just one bite.”
Everyone brings something, but nobody goes hungry.
Now imagine the ultimate potluck—not in the fellowship hall but in heaven itself.
God Himself has set the table, and the menu is grace.
You can sense the deeper hunger even in everyday moments.
When the house finally grows quiet at night, or when you scroll long past bedtime and still can’t put the phone down, there’s a tug inside.
Everywhere we look, there are folks hungering for something beyond food.
We may not name it, but beneath the frantic pace of our lives is a soul-deep craving for something more.
Some try to satisfy it in science—from brain-mapping labs to deep-space probes—hoping discovery will fill the empty space within.
Others reach for ancient rituals, new philosophies, or mystical experiences.
Still others chase wealth, power, or fame—always sure that one more promotion, one more purchase, one more round of applause will finally quiet the longing.
But when the applause fades and the lights dim, the craving is still there.
That longing is no accident.
Ecclesiastes says God has set eternity in the human heart.
He planted a void that nothing but Himself can fill.
And into that emptiness comes an invitation—God’s invitation to His banquet of grace.
Jesus captured this truth in a parable recorded in Matthew 22 and Luke 14.
Matthew calls it a wedding feast; Luke calls it a great supper.
Different settings, same story: a King prepares a banquet and sends invitations far and wide.
Some refuse. Some make excuses.
But the feast goes on, and the King still longs for guests.
This morning we’ll walk through that parable and hear it as God’s personal call to us.
We’ll see two movements:
1. The rejected invitations.
2. The filled hall—and the guest who lacked the wedding garment.
And we’ll discover that the greatest question we face isn’t what we bring to the potluck of heaven, but whether we will come at all—and whether we will wear the robe He provides.
Section 2 – The Rejected Invitations
(Matthew 22:1–7; Luke 14:16–20)
Jesus begins His parable like this:
“The kingdom of heaven is like a king who prepared a wedding banquet for his son. He sent his servants to those who had been invited to the banquet to tell them to come, but they refused to come.”
Luke records a parallel version, where the host sends word: “Come, for everything is now ready.”
But one after another, the guests begin to make excuses.
The King and His Feast
Let’s pause on the King.
This is no ordinary monarch. The King is God Himself, Creator and Sustainer of all things.
The wedding feast is the great celebration of redemption—the union of heaven and earth when Christ and His people are finally one.
For every faithful Jew of Jesus’ day, a wedding banquet symbolized the coming Messianic kingdom.
Jesus is saying: that day is here. The invitations are out.
The King has done it all.
He has set the table, planned the menu, and sent the invitations.
In today’s terms: the God of the universe has gone to infinite expense to throw a party and wants you there as His honored guest.
Two Kinds of Refusal
But what happens? The invitees say no.
And their reasons sound strangely familiar.
Luke records the first set of excuses:
• “I’ve just bought a field; I must go and see it.”
• “I’ve bought five yoke of oxen; I’m on my way to try them out.”
• “I just got married; I can’t come.”
On the surface these are ordinary life events—work, business, family.
But Jesus unmasks something deeper: indifference to God’s call.
The problem isn’t the farm, the oxen, or the marriage.
The problem is allowing even good things to crowd out the best thing.
Matthew adds another layer.
Some guests not only ignore the summons; they turn hostile, mistreating and even killing the king’s servants.
History bears this out: prophets were rejected, John the Baptist beheaded, and many early Christian witnesses martyred.
Two patterns emerge, and they still show up today:
1. Casual indifference.
We mean to say yes… someday. We just never get around to it. Work, hobbies, screens, and social schedules all seem more urgent.
2. Active resistance.
We may not seize and kill God’s messengers, but we bristle when His truth challenges our comfort.
We push back, sometimes with sarcasm, sometimes with anger.
Modern Echoes
Think about the excuses we hear—or make—today:
• “Sunday’s my only day to sleep in. I need it to catch up.”
• “I tried reading the Bible, but it felt boring after three days.”
• “I’ll get serious about God when life settles down—after the next promotion, after the kids leave home, after retirement.”
Different century, same human heart.
Every excuse finally boils down to this: “I will not come.”
And yet the King doesn’t give up.
“Again he sent other servants and said, ‘Tell those who are invited: Look, I have prepared my banquet…everything is ready. Come to the wedding feast.’”
This is grace on display. God invites again. He calls and keeps calling.
The King’s Response
But persistent rejection has consequences.
Jesus says the king “was enraged. He sent his army, destroyed those murderers and burned their city.”
This is sobering language, reflecting both the destruction of Jerusalem in AD 70 and the ultimate judgment still to come.
God’s patience is immense, but not endless.
To spurn His invitation is to choose separation from Him.
Take it personally:
Where do we see ourselves?
Are we among the politely indifferent, always “too busy”?
Do we carry quiet resistance—resentment, skepticism, or the determination to run life our own way?
Or are we ready to hear God’s gracious second call and respond today?
Section 3 – The Filled Hall and the Missing Garment
(Matthew 22:8–14)
The story could have ended with rejection and judgment.
But Jesus makes a surprising turn:
“Then the king said to his servants, ‘The wedding banquet is ready, but those I invited did not deserve to come. So go to the street corners and invite to the banquet anyone you find.’ So the servants went out into the streets and gathered all the people they could find, the bad as well as the good, and the wedding hall was filled with guests.”
A Hall Filled with Surprise Guests. Picture it.
The servants stream into alleys and marketplaces, knocking on doors and calling to strangers: “Come to the banquet! The king wants you!”
The invitations now reach people who never expected to be invited—merchants and beggars, travelers and farmers, children and grandparents, outcasts and outsiders.
This is the gospel at work.
When the self-assured reject God’s call, His grace overflows to the least expected.
Jesus ate with tax collectors and sinners.
The early church welcomed Gentiles from every nation.
God is still doing it today:
those with broken pasts, those who feel they don’t fit in church, those who think they have nothing to bring—all find a welcome at the King’s table.
Good news:
God’s kingdom is not a closed circle of the well-connected.
It is a come-as-you-are feast of grace.
A Disturbing Twist
But the story isn’t over.
The king enters the crowded hall and notices one man without a wedding garment.
“‘Friend,’ he asked, ‘how did you get in here without wedding clothes?’ The man was speechless.
Then the king told the attendants, ‘Tie him hand and foot, and throw him outside, into the darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’
For many are invited, but few are chosen.”
This is the hardest part of the parable, and we can’t ignore it.
The Gift of the Garment
In Jesus’ day, a gracious host often provided special wedding garments for guests.
The man’s failure wasn’t about fashion or poverty; it was refusing the very robe the king freely offered.
The robe is Christ’s righteousness—His perfect life credited to us.
Isaiah 61:10 rejoices: “He has clothed me with garments of salvation and arrayed me in a robe of His righteousness.”
If you give yourself to Christ and accept Him as your Saviour, then sinful as your life may have been, for His sake you are accounted righteous. Christ’s character stands in place of your character, and you are accepted before God just as if you had not sinned.
The wedding garment isn’t earned by frantic effort or last-minute heroics.
It comes with the invitation.
To accept the call is to receive the robe.
The “work of a lifetime” is not sewing a better garment but surrendering daily to keep the robe on—abiding in Christ.
Modern Parallels
It is possible to like the idea of heaven—golden streets, reunion with loved ones, endless joy—yet never put on the robe.
Some want the feast without the surrender.
Some hope to slip the robe on at the last moment.
But Jesus warns: the robe is not an accessory; it is the evidence of relationship.
It shows that we have trusted Him, not ourselves.
The silent guest in the parable stands for all who enjoy religious events but resist transformation, who may sit in church yet keep the old rags of pride or self-sufficiency.
The king’s question still comes: “Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding garment?”
The King’s Heart
Even here, don’t miss the king’s heart.
He calls the man friend.
This is not a cold dismissal but a last, loving appeal.
But love does not cancel justice.
To spurn the garment is to spurn the Giver, and that choice carries eternal weight.
Section 4 – Conclusion & Appeal: The Robe and the Feast
So here we are.
The banquet is ready.
The invitations have gone out.
The robe is hanging on the peg with your name on it.
The question isn’t whether the food will be good—it’s already prepared.
The question isn’t whether there’s room—the hall will be filled.
The question is simply this: Will you come, and will you wear the robe?
Two Warnings
This parable leaves us with two sobering warnings:
1. Don’t procrastinate.
The first invitees lost everything because they were “too busy.”
Fields, oxen, business, even family became excuses.
The tragedy was not that they did something terrible; it was that they neglected the invitation of a lifetime.
2. Don’t play dress-up.
It’s possible to be in the banquet hall yet refuse the robe.
Possible to attend worship, even to enjoy the company, but never surrender self to Christ.
That’s why the man was speechless—he had no excuse left.
A Gracious Promise
But there is also an incredible promise:
The feast is still on.
The robe is still offered.
The invitation still stands.
Revelation 19 pictures it: “Blessed are those who are invited to the wedding supper of the Lamb!”
That blessing can be yours—not by merit, not by performance, but by grace.
Christ lived the life you could not live, died the death you deserved, and rose to clothe you in His righteousness.
When you give yourself to Him, the Father looks at you as if you had never sinned.
That’s the robe. That’s the gift.
Bringing It Close
Let’s make it personal.
Where are you in this parable?
Are you among the first invitees, distracted by the ordinary demands of life?
Are you standing in the street, surprised that God would even want you at His table?
Or are you already in the banquet hall but trying to hold onto your own rags instead of His robe?
Wherever you are, the King’s word to you is the same:
“Everything is ready. Come to the feast.”
Final Appeal
Friend, don’t let excuses rob you of eternity.
Don’t settle for tasting religion without receiving righteousness.
Don’t wait for a “better time”—there isn’t one.
Right now, in this moment, the invitation is yours:
Come to the banquet. Put on the robe. Live in Christ. Stay in Christ. And rejoice, because heaven’s potluck will never end.
Closing Prayer
Our Heavenly Father, we thank You for the invitation You’ve given us in Jesus Christ.
We confess how easily we’ve been distracted, how often we’ve trusted our own rags instead of Your robe.
Forgive us, Lord.
Today we accept the invitation.
Today we put on the robe of Christ’s righteousness.
Keep us in Your grace until the day we sit down at Your table in the kingdom.
In Jesus’ name,
Amen.
