Everything Is Ready

Imagine a table.

It is long and made of plain wood. The bread is still warm. The cups are full. Someone has been cooking since before sunrise.

And someone is standing at the door, saying one thing.

Come. Everything is ready.

That is the picture the Church gives us today, on the 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time. Three readings. One table.

The prophet Isaiah sees it first. He pictures a feast for all peoples, with rich food and fine wine. Then he says something quiet and wonderful: “He will swallow up death for ever, and the Lord GOD will wipe away tears from all faces” (Isaiah 25:8).

Wipe away tears. Not scold them. Not hurry them along. Wipe them, the way you would for a child you love.

Then the Psalm answers, in the voice of someone who has already sat down: “Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of my enemies; thou hast anointed my head with oil, my cup overflows” (Psalm 23:5).

Notice where the table is. It is set in the presence of enemies. The trouble has not left the room. The worry is still there. But so is the table. And so is the One who set it.

Then Jesus tells a story. A king prepares a wedding feast for his son. He sends his servants to say, “Behold, I have made ready my dinner, my oxen and my fat calves are killed, and everything is ready; come to the marriage feast” (Matthew 22:4).

And the guests make excuses. They “made light of it and went off, one to his farm, another to his business” (Matthew 22:5).

I know those excuses. I have used a few myself. Maybe you have too.

So the king sends his servants out again. “Go therefore to the thoroughfares, and invite to the marriage feast as many as you find” (Matthew 22:9). The hall fills up with people, “both bad and good” (Matthew 22:10).

No one is turned away at the door for what they did last week. The invitation is wide.

The story ends with one more scene, about a guest who comes without a wedding garment. Many teachers of the Church have read that garment as love lived out: a heart ready to receive the gift and be changed by it. The invitation is free. What we do with it still matters.

So what does a Sunday like this ask of us? Maybe three small things.

Say yes, even if the dishes are in the sink.

Come as you are, and let yourself be made new.

Set a place for someone else.

The table is set. Everything is ready.

Come.