"The resurrection banquet has already begun!" Wednesday of Trinity 20 2025

05. November 2025

Wednesday of Trinity 20

Luke 14:12-15

This is the Word of the Lord that came to me, so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing, you may have life in His + Name. AMEN.

The Scripture speaks in paradox. On the one hand, the warning was simple: “If you do not work, neither shall you eat.” Today’s is the opposite: “Do not show partiality.” We have both: those who refuse to work but expect to eat; and those who eat — but refuse to share the table. And both come down to the same truth: what we believe about God always shows up in how we eat.

Paul told the Thessalonians to take note of those who refused to obey Christ’s teaching — those who spent their lives meddling, gossiping, or freeloading off everyone else — and he said, “Have nothing to do with them, that they may be ashamed.” Not to destroy them. Not to exile them. But to warn them as a brother, not an enemy.

There comes a time when someone’s rebellion has to be confronted. There comes a time when the invitation to the table has to be withdrawn — not out of spite, but out of love. Something has to stand as a signpost saying: Repent. Come to your senses. Come back to Christ. And that’s painful, because it means sometimes you have to say, “You can’t sit here anymore.” Not because you hate them, but because you love them enough to tell them the truth.

But that’s not what the Pharisees were doing. They had their own kind of discrimination — not the kind that warns a sinner to repent, but the kind that protects their image. They were very careful about who they ate with, very selective about who got a seat at their tables. And when they did invite someone different, it wasn’t out of mercy. It was out of manipulation.

When Jesus was invited to one of their dinners, they brought along a man with dropsy — a man swollen and suffering — not because they cared about him, but because they wanted to use him as bait. They didn’t love him. They didn’t plan to help him. They were setting a trap for Jesus.

“Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath?” they asked. And when Jesus healed the man, He exposed them. Because He didn’t just heal that man’s body. He healed the room. He showed them that their religion was diseased. They wanted to control who got to eat. Jesus showed them who the meal was really for.

And then He said, “When you give a dinner, don’t invite your friends or your rich neighbors. Invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind — and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you. You will be repaid at the resurrection of the just.”

That’s not dinner-party etiquette. That’s the shape of the kingdom of God. Because this parable isn’t about table manners. It’s about grace. It’s about who gets invited to God’s table — and what kind of people we become once we’ve eaten there.

There’s a temptation to think of our lives, our homes, even our churches, as private clubs. We only want to eat with people who make us feel good — the ones who have something to offer. We invite people who repay us with laughter, conversation, or influence. We measure what’s worth it, who’s worth it, what it costs, and what we gain.

But Jesus tells us to stop using people as currency. He tells us to stop calculating whether it’s “worth it.” Because if you only ever invite the people who can repay you, you’ve already been paid in full. If you only ever do good to people who can do something for you, you’ve already got your reward.

But the reward Jesus is talking about isn’t a tax write-off or a thank-you note. It’s resurrection. “You will be repaid at the resurrection of the just.” That’s where this whole parable is going — toward the table that never ends. Toward the eternal banquet where the Lamb is host, the poor are honored, and the crippled are made whole.

But notice this: the resurrection isn’t just a someday thing. It’s already breaking into the present. Because the same Christ who spoke these words is the One who has prepared a feast right here. He is still inviting the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind — and that’s us. He is still feeding those who cannot repay. He is still giving Himself as food for those who have nothing to offer back.

This is the Lord’s Supper. This is the dinner where Jesus is both host and meal.

He doesn’t invite the powerful, the wealthy, or the self-satisfied. He invites the spiritually bankrupt, the morally broken, the ones who have failed a thousand times and are still limping toward the altar. And when you kneel here, you are not repaying God. You are receiving Him. You are not bringing your résumé or your reputation. You are bringing your hunger. Because this is the one meal where nobody pays — and everyone eats. That’s what makes this table different from every other table in the world.

At your dinner table, you can choose who to invite. At His table, you don’t. You kneel next to whoever Christ has called — the addict, the widow, the teenager, the skeptic, the one who smells like smoke, the one who never fits in. And Christ feeds you all from the same bread, the same cup, the same crucified body.

You can’t curate this guest list. You can only receive it. That’s what makes the Church the Church. It’s not a gathering of compatible people. It’s a miracle of grace — people who never would’ve met, never would’ve liked each other, never would’ve sat together — but here they are, fed by the same Savior. That’s what the kingdom of God looks like right now. And that’s what Jesus meant when He said, “You will be repaid at the resurrection of the just.”

Because every time you come to this altar, you are eating in that resurrection. Every time you forgive someone who wronged you, you are tasting that feast. Every time you open your door to someone who cannot repay you, you are acting out what Christ has already done for you.

Now one of the men sitting at the table heard all this and said, “Blessed is everyone who will eat bread in the kingdom of God.” He was right — but he missed the point. Because the kingdom isn’t just future tense. The kingdom is sitting right in front of him, in the person of Jesus Christ. And that’s what we forget too.

We keep waiting for heaven like it’s some future dinner reservation, when in fact, heaven is already invading the earth every Sunday morning at this altar. Here, the King sits down with sinners. Here, the poor are filled with good things. Here, the lame walk, the blind see, the weary are fed, and the guilty are forgiven.

This is where the kingdom begins to break in. And this is where your repayment begins — not in money or reward, but in resurrection, in mercy, in joy that never ends. So when Jesus says, “Invite the poor,” He’s not just telling you what to do. He’s telling you who you are. You are the poor. You are the blind. You are the one who can’t repay. And still, He invites you.

And now that you’ve been fed, you go and live the same way. You invite the ones who can’t repay. You forgive the ones who can’t make it right. You open your door, open your wallet, open your life — not because they deserve it, but because you’ve already received more than you could ever repay.

So today, hear the Gospel underneath the parable: Christ Himself is your host. He has healed you. He feeds you. And He will not stop until you are seated at the wedding feast of the Lamb in His kingdom, which has no end. The invitation is already in your hand. The bread is already on your tongue. The resurrection banquet has already begun.

This is the Word of the Lord that came to me, so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing, you may have life in His + Name. AMEN.

Rev. Christopher R. Gillespie
St. John Ev. Lutheran Church & School - Sherman Center
Random Lake, Wisconsin