Invited to Attend

Invited to Attend
Pentecost 20; Matthew 22:1-14
I admit I was invited 
to attend that wedding banquet.
It would be a celebration
of life’s intimate commitment
and potential procreation.
Somehow that seemed uninviting:
I’d no time nor inclination
to join mass produced rejoicing.

I had one regret – the gardens.
There I knew I’d find abundance,
strolling down the tree-lined pathways
bright with buds and vivid blossoms,
breathing aromatic breezes,
pine and jasmine, mint and roses,
tasting peaches, grapes and berries
growing free for all to savour,
hearing bird song and the music 
of the streams and distant ocean.

Why did I say “No!” in answer?
I was busy and distracted,
but in truth I did regret it,
wondered what I might be missing.

Later I went out, uneasy,
walked the streets but going nowhere,
empty in my heart and belly.
When the servants bade us go there,
I was ready to do something,
joined the crowd to seek the banquet.
Wedding garments we were handed,
made to cover rags and street dirt.

In that robe I felt a stranger,
trapped, humiliated, silenced:
me, a guest they once respected,
treated like a homeless hobo.
Soon I started itching, twitching,
tore the garment off and left it,
stormed towards the open gateway.

When the gate clanged shut behind me,
I was left bereft and lonely,
hungry, missing that abundance
handed freely to all comers.
Suddenly my pride seemed foolish,
and my busy ways deluded.
How I wished that I had heeded 
that first summons, or indeed, had
humbly worn the wedding garment
like the vagrants they collected.

Shall I knock and seek forgiveness,
pick the garment up and wear it,
no more worthy than the lowly,
no less welcome now I know me?
	Barbara Messner 11/10/2023