Doesn’t this mean anything to you?

Bishop Gerald Kennedy shares a story from his days as a student at Yale Divinity School about an ongoing debate among the faculty and student body over the proper attire for seminary students. The faculty considered dress clothes appropriate: students were comfortable with casual wear. The debate took form on the bulletin board. A faculty member posted a note quoting Isaiah 2:1, “Awake, put on your beautiful garments, O Jerusalem, the holy city.” In response, a student posted Matthew 6:25, “Do not be anxious about your life, nor about your body, what you shall put on.”

In Matthew 22, Jesus tells a parable about a king’s wedding banquet. When the king arrived to meet the guests, he noticed a man without a wedding garment and without an excuse for not wearing one. The man was summarily ejected from the banquet. You see, the custom of the day was that royalty provided wedding garments for those invited: white robes and a garland to wear on the head.

This guest refused to wear the complimentary garment. He had no appreciation for the joy of the moment, nor the desire of the king, nor the honoring of the couple. He seemed to show no interest in “being part of it,” of “getting into the swing of it.” This guest had just tossed his robe and garland on the chair nearest the door.

What does this parable mean to us? It helps our understanding to note the language in the New Testament of changing clothing. This language was used to express the giving up of the old way of life and putting on the new Christian identity. An example is found in Galatians 3, “As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ.”

Patrick Collins tells the story of a middle-aged priest who, in order to improve his speaking style, is simulating a celebration of the Lord’s Supper for a university drama professor. Standing in his robe and stole at the improvised altar and facing the professor, the priest begins blandly, “The Lord be with you.”

The professor interrupts, “Wait a minute, Father. What are you doing?”

“Well, I’m reading what’s prescribed here in the book: ‘The Lord be with you...lift up your hearts,’” the priest replied.

“But don’t you realize,” the dramatist said, “this is a dialogue. You should be looking at the people.”

So the priest looked straight ahead and said, without facial expression or verbal inflection, “The Lord be with you.”

“Wait a minute, Father, what are you doing now?” asked the professor.

By this time the priest had become annoyed. With frustration in his voice, he replied, “I’m looking at the people just the way you told me to.”

“But doesn’t this mean anything to you? Could you put some feeling into it?”

“Look!” said the priest, “I’m not going to be an actor!”

The dramatist shot back: “Well, Father, if you don’t want to be an actor, then take off the costume.”

You see, those who accept the invitation to “sit together in Christ Jesus” are to wear the costume of the baptized; are to wear the garment of salvation with eagerness; are to receive joyously the gift of salvation; are to be, with feeling, the saved and saving company of the redeemed. The parable is God’s way of asking us, “Doesn’t this mean anything to you?”

It has been so long since we put on the frock of faith, the hat of hope, the mantle of mercy. But it’s not too late. Look over at that chair by the door. Why…someone has left a white robe and a garland.