His name was Bill. He had wild hair, wore a T-shirt with holes in it, jeans and no shoes. This had literally been his wardrobe for his entire four years of university.

He was very, very bright. He had been attending a student Christian group while attending university. Across the street from the campus was a well-dressed, very respectable church. They wanted to develop a ministry to the students, but were not sure how to go about it.

One day, Bill decided to go to that church. He walked in wearing his jeans, his T-shirt, no shoes and wild hair. The service had already started and so Bill began to walk down the aisle, looking for a seat. The church was completely packed, and he could not find a pew. By this time, people began to look uncomfortable, but no one said anything.

Bill got close and closer to the pulpit and when he realized there were absolutely no seats, he just squatted down right on the carpet. (Although perfectly acceptable behavior at student gatherings, trust me, this had never happened in this church before.) By now the people were really up tight and the tension in the air was thick.

About this time the minister realized that from way at the back of the church, a deacon was slowly making his way toward Bill. The man, in his eighties, had silver hair, a three-piece suit and a pocket watch. He was a godly man – very elegant, very dignified, and very proper. The man walked with a cane and as he walked toward this young man, everyone was thinking to themselves "You can’t blame him for what he is going to do. How can you expect a man of his age and of his background to understand some kid on the floor?"

It took a long time for the man to reach Bill. The church was completely silent except for the clicking of the man’s cane. All eyes were focused on him; you could not even hear anyone breathing. When the man was alongside Bill, he dropped his cane on the floor. With great difficulty he lowered himself and sat next to Bill. It was clear, the man intended to worship with Bill so he would not be alone. There was a murmur from the congregation. When the minister was able to gain control she said, "What I am about to preach, you will never remember. What you have just seen, you will never forget."

That is the way it is with an incident that surprises you and warms your heart and consequently, changes your life. That is the way it is with a really good story that brings the same results. You never forget it.

That is what Matthew was doing with this story. He was telling a story that would have an impact on his community. It would be a little outrageous and even encoded. His folks would know the language and understand all the implications. And there would be a twist at the end, almost a zinger that would grab them. They would know that the king is God, the son is Jesus, the marriage feast is the messianic banquet at the end time and that the slaves are the prophets and later the Christian missionaries. They would know that the ones who refused to come to the banquet were the ones who rejected Jesus, or were not followers of the new Jesus movement. And they would have realized that the ones who did come to the banquet were they and that something was expected of them. They would have not heard as we did today that last phrase "many are called but few are chosen." But instead would have recognized a reference to traditional Jewish saying that means "God wants everybody at the party but not everyone knows how to behave when they get there." They would have understood that they were not to just "put on" but to be fully clothed in the joy, the love and the justice seeking intent of their host. For how one lived as a Christian was a major theme of the Gospel writers and Paul. And they also would have remembered and understood how welcoming Jesus had been; how it was now their responsibility to be welcoming in the same manner, working through all the conflicts of differing traditions, assumptions and requirements people brought into this new community. And it was tough, painful and never quite clear. But they were working on it, praying through it, and seeking to discern God’s will for their lives. And the stories helped.

2000 years and countless copies and translations of our Bible later, we may need a little help making that story our own. First, the phrase "Kingdom of Heaven" is probably better translated as "the realm, reign or empire of God". Surely, Matthew was pointing to the end time, when Jesus would return, which was thought to be eminent. In fact he was heavy handed that way in his telling of this story. Luke is not so inclined. And many modern theologians, especially those in the Jesus Seminars suggest that Luke’s version may be closer to the original. For Jesus was very intentional about pointing out the contrast between the world or the empire the people lived in and the realm or empire of God inaugurated through Jesus life here on earth. And, Jesus was trying to tell us what God is like. The message then is that God’s table is incredibly, and amazingly open. God’s table, the place where people sit together, not just to dine but to share together and to know one another in table fellowship is open to all. And those who come are not only invited to but also expected to soak up and live out the joy, love and justice of their host.

Which brings us back to Bill and the deacon, sitting there together on the floor. I wonder what our church and our world would be like if we came together to sit, share and worship, like Bill, totally as we are, unadorned and without masks.

What if we were undeterred by things like lack of space or openness of heart and mind in this or that group and trusted that we were wanted and there would always be room for us somehow. And what if we also came, like the deacon, willing to meet the other person where they are, dropping our props and risking pain and the critique of the crowd, to accompany the odd person out.

We do well at being open to diversity here at CCC, I think, but we all have our limits. At least, I know, I have limits I may not even be aware of. I found myself not even wanting to do this sermon. "Wasn’t the last sermon I gave on welcoming?" I kept thinking. I just did this. But then my week unfolded before me.

Last weekend I was on retreat with the Senior High group. We were learning how to plan worship. The group that was planning the scripture and sermon part said that the sermon should relate to life. That is what we do, I thought. Then I was talking with two of the girls about difficulties in relationships and their response was "Welcome to high school!" Often when I converse with folks about their work space and situation, the topic moves to relationships, who is in and who is out and all the antics that go on around that. Maybe the topic is current.

On Tuesday I went to a Conference at Lancaster theological Seminary on Renewal of Youth Ministry. At one point the conversation focused on the experience of youth that go to powerful events where they learn to do theology and have exciting experiences of worship. When they come back to their home church, they find their ideas are not welcomed. I even heard a story of at least one young woman who was demonized on the Internet after taking a stance on a particular issue at her home church and in her denomination.

Besides being at Lancaster with persons from other UCC churches, I have also been working with other churches in our area to put together a training event for leaders of our new sexuality materials. As all that has unfolded, I realized how, unlike Paul and his letter to the Phillipians, we isolate ourselves from other churches and do not really sit together as Bill and the Deacon did. I wonder what would happen if we did involve ourselves in each other’s lives, if we took the time to really sit together in openness and love.

And in this week that our country is careening toward war with Iraq, I found myself wondering what would happen if we could somehow encourage our leaders to go to the negotiating table and the bargaining table in the same mode as Bill and the Deacon. O, I know that is naïve. But bare with me for just a moment. Also this week, I read an article about a UN conference in which women from all over the world came together to sit and talk and to seek peace. I thought of the many other efforts made to being people on opposite sides of conflicts together to get to know one another personally, and how forgiveness and respect grew out of that. Maybe each time that happens, we get a little peek into the realm of God.