11th October 2026

19th Sunday after Trinity (Proper 23) - David Matthews

Readings: Exodus 32. 1-14  &  Matthew 22.1-14

It’s been a summer of weddings for me: a nephew and two godsons getting married. We’re hitting that time in our lives when the rising generation are settling down and it’s all very affirming. At least it was until I realised, as I was getting dressed, three Saturdays ago, for wedding number three, that I had not packed a tie. This was all the more galling because I was reading the lesson – I would be standing at the lectern, facing both families and assembled friends, as good as naked. There was no escape. There was no-one I could borrow from. So I brazened it out and it wasn’t too bad because my godson’s family are quite bohemian – opera singers (and all that that brings with it) in terms of sartorial eccentricity. So, my tie-lessness just seemed like a statement, along with the crumpled linen suits and corduroy jackets.

Nevertheless… this passage from Matthew was not far from my thoughts.

Even while we remember that this is a parable and not a legally binding directive to for all believers: “Get the dress code right or you’ll burn!” It’s pretty brutal, isn’t it? And for the Jews’ religious leaders, having to listen to this upstart Nazarene, it was an uncompromising challenge. It is perfectly clear that Jesus is equating the religious elite – those notorious scribes and pharisees –  with those who can’t be bothered to turn up for the King’s son’s wedding feast. Worse than that, they are accused of having mistreated and even murdered the prophets who have, over the centuries, proclaimed God’s message. Their fate is sealed (and it’s not a happy one.)

So, the invitation is then extended to the gentiles –  both good and bad. If the Chosen people refuse to listen and do God’s bidding, the message must be broadcast through other means. And it’s profound message: God is getting personal. He’s stepping into human form. It’s the incarnation. So, here we are today, glad to accept the new invitation. Except…except, just turning up at to the wedding breakfast and tucking in is not enough.

So what does it mean to ‘wear a wedding robe’? How do we avoid the fate of those who are called but not chosen?

This New Testament passage complements the episode of the Golden Calf really well. Here we have the Children of Israel back-sliding as soon as Moses is away. They do not want to be special; they want to have golden idols and worship gods like the unenlightened tribes that surround them. Aaron – Moses’ brother and right-hand man – goes along with their demands. There’s no principled leadership there. And God is so angry he threatens to destroy them and substitute Moses’ descendants instead of Jacob’s, as his chosen people.

As we know, the Book of Exodus is not short of scenes where Moses bargains with God on behalf of the wayward Israelites. And here, in the reading today, Moses succeeds in getting God to forgive his chosen people; indeed, a couple of chapters later – after various punishments have been levied – God also decides that, instead of an angel leading them through their wanderings, he will accompany them himself.

But even this action by God does not prevent further back-sliding. The Children of Israel, descendants of Abraham, the original chosen people remain prone to disobedience, sloppy living, flirting with idolatories. Yes, even this race, selected by God to bring light to the world, persists in weakness and worse; acts of moral darkness and corruption continue to appeal.

They are, of course, not alone.

Humankind (that’s us) is deeply flawed. Left to our own devices, without deliberate, conscious adherence to God’s directives, we will slide inexorably towards catastrophe. To prevent this, we have to conform ourselves to the shape God created for us: we have to wear the right robe.

Interestingly, the Children of Israel go wrong when Moses nips off up the mountain. Without him visibly at the helm, they start looking for alternatives. Fashionable, shiny, gilded alternatives.

Whatever the causes, I think it could be fair to say our bit of the world - @The West’ for want of a better term – is weathering a similar moral vacuum. Populism – a short-term indulgence in simplistic and self-centred solutions to complex problems – is the new Golden Calf. The addiction of social media platforms with their ability to foster one-dimensional bigoted attitudes is the new style of worship. Tribalism is on the rise: if you don’t agree with my beliefs – the definition of a woman, my stance in the gender wars, whether Zionism is racist, my loathing ( as a Republican) or every Democrat or my loathing (as a Democrat) of every Republican, you are beyond the pale. And what does that indicate other than a modern tendency to create God is our own peculiar image? It’s my right to wear what the hell I like to your party!

The old way to keep in tune with God’s commandments – the guidelines he expected the Israelites to follow – were rule-based. There as a code4 and you had to live by it. This is how, as parents, we shape children. We insist of rules for safety, on good manners and truthfulness for relationships, on doing homework and sticking to something you’ve started to build commitment. Children grow up, as we grew up, and the boundaries are tested but we hope the foundations for safe, social and focussed living have been laid down. As we mature, our understanding develops and new challenges present themselves. As the Children of Israel matured, they faced a new challenge. They encountered Jesus. And the challenge? “Is it time to question the Old Laws?” For instance, could Sabbath observances be dispensed with if there were more important things, like healing, to do? The step that has to be taken is: apply some reason; take some thoughtful responsibility; don’t just follow the rules inflexibly. As Jesus said, ‘”Follow me, instead.”

Jesus offered relationship… connection… an active engagement not a passive submission.

Moses, interestingly, had been there already. If he, as tradition has it, was the author of Exodus, we have a first-hand account of a gutsy, dynamic relationship with God. It’s one, incidentally (or at least as Moses  reports it!) which often puts Moses in the better light. He is the one advocating compassion and the moral obligation to keep one’s promises.

He advocates for the Children of Israel but, in a way, he is advocating for humanity. He recognises our flaws but he strives to establish, to prepare the way for that relationship which will find its perfection, in due course, in the person of Jesus when God decides humanity is mature enough to step back from the rigid rules and grow into a personal relationship with him.

Few of us hear God’s voice as Moses did. That to-and-fro of argument is certainly not my experience. And certainly, if, having had a ding-dong with God and won the argument, I then went down the mountain and ordered the sons of Levi to buckle on their swords and go forth to kill their brothers, friends and neighbours (a total of 3,000 were felled in a single day) as punishment for the golden calf business, the alarm bells of sanity should be ringing. That was barbaric stuff. And while it’s important to noite that this massacre, ordered by Moses, was not God’s precise instruction (it’s just what Moses feels is due) the Old Testament is not short of similar mass-killings condoned by God – at least according to the scribes of these ancient texts – and, indeed, he does send a plague to punish the Israelites for building their golden calf.

All that was another age.

Now, as Christians, we have been taught to expect the Word of God to be filtered through the humanity of Jesus, God incarnate. He has brought us a New Commandment: my favourite four-letter word.

But let’s return to my original question: how, in this new era of relationship rather than rules, do we avoid the fate of those who are called but not chosen?

I think the fact that this parable centres around a wedding feast gives us a clue. Guests at a wedding made in heaven should be there to support. Two families, two friendship groups have come together to help forge a new union. The vows they witness will be about commitment – whatever the circumstances, the challenges or trials. There will be talk of love – nothing too coy or sentimental – but elevated and enduring, and with the potential to generate children. The marriage is about establishing a relationship-unit from which societies are constructed and communities nurtured. It’s about the future. It’s about hope and aspiration.

Surely, then, these are the attributes we should proudly wear, if we are to be worthy of being called. And, in the current climate, when so much in Western society is idolatrous, where so many construct their own false gods, where ego is the new golden calf and ‘my truth’ and ‘my ferociously held creeds’ risk poisoning our capacity to understand another’s perspective, surely it is imperative that we each do more than bemoan the era we live in. We have to hope, trust, have faith that ‘all shall be well’. We do not have to buckle on an actual sword like the sons of Levi but we do need to rise up, step out and do all that we can to topple the golden calves and place God – Father, Son and Holy Spirit – on the high plinth where all may see his glory.

So the robe we should seek to put on is an attitude, a set of behaviours. St Paul tells us how to do this at the end of his letter to the Philippians: “whatever is true, whatever is honourable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things… and the God of Peace will be with you.”

That’s the dress code. Follow it and we are promised an awesome party.

Amen