The Gospel of the Spurned Invitation Text: Luke 14:15-24
Introduction: The Insult of the Reasonable Excuse
We live in an age that has mastered the art of the polite dismissal. We are experts in declining invitations, not with a firm "no," but with a "soft" no, a "reasonable" no, a no that is wrapped in the respectable packaging of prior commitments and pressing duties. We have become so adept at this that we have begun to believe our own press. We imagine that God, the great King, should be as understanding of our schedules as our peers are. We think we can RSVP with a "maybe" to the Creator of the cosmos, or send Him our regrets on account of a prior engagement with one of His own created things.
The parable before us this morning is a direct assault on this entire way of thinking. It is a bucket of ice water thrown on the sleepy assumption that our excuses for not giving God our undivided attention are in any way legitimate. Jesus tells this story in the house of a Pharisee, a place filled with men who were professionally religious. They were the kind of men who would nod along piously to a statement like "Blessed is everyone who will eat bread in the kingdom of God," while their hearts were a hundred miles away, calculating the value of their fields and the strength of their oxen. They loved the idea of the kingdom, the aesthetics of it, but they were not prepared to drop everything when the summons actually came.
This parable is a story about a great feast, but it is more than that. It is a story about the honor of the host. It is a story about the nature of the gospel invitation, the flimsy idolatry of our excuses, the righteous anger of a spurned God, the shocking grace that sweeps in the outcasts, and the terrible finality of judgment. We must understand that the gospel is not a suggestion. It is not a dinner party that we can attend if we can fit it in. It is a royal summons from the King of the universe, and to refuse it on the basis of "more important things" is not a simple scheduling conflict. It is an act of high treason.
As we walk through this, we must ask ourselves what our respectable excuses are. What piece of land, what set of oxen, what human relationship has become more urgent, more real to us than the call of the Master to come to His table? For the call is going out, even now. The servant has been sent. Everything is ready. And how we respond to that call determines everything.
The Text
But when one of those who were reclining at the table with Him heard this, he said to Him, "Blessed is everyone who will eat bread in the kingdom of God!" And He said to him, "A man was giving a big dinner, and he invited many. And at the dinner hour he sent his slave to say to those who had been invited, 'Come, for everything is ready now.' But they all alike began to make excuses. The first one said to him, 'I have bought a piece of land and I need to go out and look at it. I ask you, consider me excused.' And another one said, 'I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I am going to try them out. I ask you, consider me excused.' And another one said, 'I have married a wife, and for that reason I cannot come.' And when the slave came back, he reported these things to his master. Then the head of the household became angry and said to his slave, 'Go out at once into the streets and lanes of the city and bring in here the poor and crippled and blind and lame.' And the slave said, 'Master, what you commanded has been done, and still there is room.' And the master said to the slave, 'Go out into the highways and along the fences, and compel them to come in, so that my house may be filled. For I tell you, none of those men who were invited shall taste of my dinner.'"
(Luke 14:15-24 LSB)
Pious Platitudes and the Parable's Point (v. 15-17)
The parable is set off by a seemingly spiritual comment from a fellow dinner guest.
"But when one of those who were reclining at the table with Him heard this, he said to Him, 'Blessed is everyone who will eat bread in the kingdom of God!'" (Luke 14:15 LSB)
On the surface, this sounds wonderful. It sounds like something you might hear in a Sunday School class. "Oh, won't heaven be grand!" But Jesus, who knows the heart, hears the hollowness in it. This is the kind of religious sentiment that costs a man nothing. It is an abstract appreciation for a future blessing that makes no demand on him in the present. It is easy to praise a distant feast, but the question is whether you will come when the servant shows up at your door tonight. Jesus responds not by patting the man on the back for his piety, but by telling a story that exposes the man's heart, and ours.
"And He said to him, 'A man was giving a big dinner, and he invited many. And at the dinner hour he sent his slave to say to those who had been invited, 'Come, for everything is ready now.'" (Luke 14:16-17 LSB)
This is how the gospel works. There is a great feast, the Messianic banquet, the marriage supper of the Lamb. God the Father has prepared it through the work of His Son. The initial invitation, the "save the date," went out to "many," which in Luke's context clearly refers to the people of Israel. They were the invited guests. They had the prophets, the law, the covenants. And now, at the appointed time, the "dinner hour" of redemption history, the servant, Jesus Himself and His apostles, is sent with the final summons: "Come, for everything is ready now." The sacrifice has been made. The work is finished. The table is set. There is nothing for the guests to do but to come and receive.
The Unholy Trinity of Excuses (v. 18-20)
The response to this gracious and final summons is not gratitude, but a series of insults thinly veiled as polite regrets.
"But they all alike began to make excuses." (Luke 14:18a LSB)
Notice the unanimity. "They all alike." This is not one or two bad apples; this is a widespread, settled rebellion. And the excuses they offer are a masterful depiction of how we allow the good gifts of God to become idols that keep us from God Himself. We see here the unholy trinity of worldly priorities: possessions, profession, and personal relationships.
The first excuse is about property. "'I have bought a piece of land and I need to go out and look at it. I ask you, consider me excused.'" This is a ridiculous excuse. Who buys a field without looking at it first? The purchase is already made. The field isn't going anywhere. This is a flimsy pretext that reveals his true priority. His new possession has captured his heart. His wealth, a gift from God, has become more important than the Giver.
The second excuse is about profession or commerce. "'I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I am going to try them out. I ask you, consider me excused.'" Again, this is absurd. The deal is done. The oxen can be tested tomorrow. This man is distracted by his work, his business, his economic life. His labor, a good ordinance of God, has become his master. He is too busy making a living to come to the one who offers life itself.
The third excuse is about family. "'I have married a wife, and for that reason I cannot come.'" This one is the most blunt. He doesn't even bother to ask to be excused. He states his new marital status as a self-evident reason for his refusal. He has elevated the good gift of marriage, a picture of Christ and the Church, into a rival to the very reality it is supposed to depict. His family has become his god.
These are not legitimate reasons; they are expressions of contempt. They are saying, "Your feast is not as important as my field. Your dinner is not as important as my business. Your invitation is not as important as my wife." They are all good things, but they have become ultimate things, and in doing so, they have become idols that damn the soul.
The Master's Anger and the Surprising Grace (v. 21-23)
The master's response is not disappointment. It is anger. And this is a righteous, holy anger.
"And when the slave came back, he reported these things to his master. Then the head of the household became angry..." (Luke 14:21a LSB)
We are often uncomfortable with the anger of God. We want a God who is endlessly permissive, a divine grandfather who just smiles indulgently at our snubs. But a God who does not get angry at such a profound insult to His honor would not be a God of love; He would be a God of indifference. His anger is the flip side of His honor and His grace. He is angry because a glorious gift, prepared at great cost, has been treated like refuse.
But his anger immediately flows into a breathtaking display of grace. "'Go out at once into the streets and lanes of the city and bring in here the poor and crippled and blind and lame.'" The respectable are out, and the wretched are in. The master does not cancel the feast; he changes the guest list. He sends his servant to the very people the first group would have despised. The poor, who have no fields. The crippled, who cannot handle oxen. The blind, who cannot see a new wife. The lame. These are the outcasts, the ceremonially unclean, the people with no social standing. They have no excuses because they have nothing. And because they have nothing, they are ready to receive everything.
"And the slave said, 'Master, what you commanded has been done, and still there is room.' And the master said to the slave, 'Go out into the highways and along the fences, and compel them to come in, so that my house may be filled.'" (Luke 14:22-23 LSB)
The grace of God is abundant. There is still room. So the invitation goes out even further, to the highways and hedges, to the Gentiles, to those utterly outside the covenant community. And notice the command: "compel them to come in." This is not a verse to justify forced conversions at the point of a sword. The Greek word here means to strongly urge, to persuade, to constrain. This is a picture of the irresistible grace of God. The first group was too proud to come. This second group, the outcasts, are too broken and ashamed to believe they are truly welcome. They think it must be a mistake. So the servant must "compel" them with the sheer, shocking, overwhelming goodness of the invitation. The grace is so lavish they can't refuse it. It overcomes their doubt, their shame, and their reluctance. This is the effectual call of the gospel, the sovereign work of the Spirit drawing sinners to Christ.
The Terrible Finality (v. 24)
The parable ends with a solemn and terrifying word of judgment.
"For I tell you, none of those men who were invited shall taste of my dinner." (Luke 14:24 LSB)
The door is shut. The opportunity is gone. Their polite excuses have resulted in their permanent exclusion. This is a warning against trifling with the grace of God. The gospel invitation is free, but it is not open-ended indefinitely. There comes a point when the refusal is final. To be too busy for God is to be too busy for salvation. To prioritize the gifts over the Giver is to forfeit both in the end. Those who will not come to His dinner will find that they are eternally barred from it.
Conclusion: Your Own Excuses
This parable forces a question upon every one of us. What is your excuse? When the call of Christ comes to you, demanding your all, demanding that you subordinate your possessions, your work, and your family to Him, what is your reply?
Perhaps you say you are too busy with your career. You have five yoke of oxen to test. You will get serious about God after the next promotion, after the next project is finished. You are making the second man's excuse.
Perhaps you say your possessions and hobbies consume your time. Your piece of land, your boat, your weekend plans, your financial portfolio. You will follow Christ when you have your earthly life sorted out just the way you want it. You are making the first man's excuse.
Perhaps you say your family comes first. You would be more involved, more committed, but your spouse is not on board, or the kids have soccer. You have married a wife, and for that reason you cannot come. You are making the third man's excuse, turning a good thing into a God thing.
The tragedy is that the men in the parable missed a great feast for things they were going to lose anyway. The field will go to another, the oxen will grow old and die, the wife will one day be a widow. They traded eternal glory for temporary distractions. Do not make their mistake. The servant has come. The Master is calling. He has brought in the poor, the crippled, the blind, and the lame, which is what we all are apart from His grace. He is compelling us by the sheer force of His love displayed at the cross. Everything is ready. Come to the feast. Do not make excuses, for in the end, God does not accept any of them.