When you invite Jesus to have dinner with you He’s happy to return the favor. He wants you to have dinner with Him too—at the marriage supper of the Lamb. We’ll talk about it today as we study the visit Jesus made to the home of a pharisee in Luke chapter 14.
I’ve spoken at more banquets than I can count, and I’ve attended a lot more than that. Not to mention church dinners and special picnics and community suppers. But I’ve never seen a dinner that can compare to the 1925 celebration at the Olympia Exhibition Hall in London, when 8000 Freemasons gathered around five miles of tables and were served by 1,360 waitresses. It required 700 cooks and 86,000 glasses and plates, of which 3,500 were broken. On the menu: salmon, chicken, and 3,000 bottles of Champaigne. It’s still considered the largest banquet ever served under one roof.
That event was nothing more than a plate of crumbs compared to the future sensational banquet, which is called the Marriage Supper of the Lamb. This meal is alluded to throughout the Bible, but it’s only mentioned specifically in Revelation 19:9 (NKJV), just after the description of the Second Coming of Christ: “Blessed are those who are called to the marriage supper of the Lamb!”
I confess I don’t know how to visualize this. In the Bible, covenants and weddings were celebrated by feasts and banquets. Isaiah 25:6 says, “On this mountain the Lord Almighty will prepare a feast of rich food for all peoples, a banquet of aged wine.” In Luke 22:28-30, at the Last Supper, Jesus told His disciples, “You are those who have stood by me in my trials. And I confer on you a kingdom, just as my Father conferred one on me, so that you may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom and sit on thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.”
Jesus enjoyed eating alongside His disciples, even after His resurrection. So I can only try to imagine the spectacle of the great banquet we’ll enjoy with Him sometime shortly after His return, either during the Millennium or on the New Earth in eternity.
As we know from a number of Bible passages, covenants and weddings were celebrated in the Bible with events around food and beverage that lasted a week or so. Could it be that all the streets and boulevards in New Jerusalem will be filled with tables and chairs seating millions upon millions? Perhaps the central point will be in Hallelujah Square. Could it be that the angels will be the servers, and cherubim the cooks? Do you think we could have manna as the appetizer? I don’t want to be frivolous or disrespectful, but I do wonder if the marriage supper of the Lamb is going to be a literal event. Will all the believers be gathered into some vast area for an actual meal celebrating the consummation of the ages and our literal, visible presence with our bridegroom, Jesus Christ? I believe it will be.
This event seems to be on the mind of our Lord in Luke 14, when Jesus was invited to a banquet in the home of a Pharisee. This is the third such occasion in the book of Luke. Luke gives us three different times Jesus went into the homes of Pharisees to accept a dinner invitation from them.
Though He had been invited, He wasn’t well received, and He ended up advising us—you and me—to go everywhere we can, into the highways and byways, inviting every possible prospect to the coming banquet He is going to prepare for His people.
The Setting of the Banquet
Let’s begin by reading Luke 14, starting with verse 1: One Sabbath, when Jesus went to eat in the house of a prominent Pharisee, he was being carefully watched. There in front of him was a man suffering from abnormal swelling of his body.
Today we call this condition edema. It has to do with fluid retention, and this man was probably planted here by the Pharisees to see if Jesus would heal him on the Sabbath Day. This is how legalistic the Pharisees were. Jesus performed amazing signs and wonders that astounded people, and it almost always was for the benefit of someone or some group with significant needs. Jesus wants to meet our needs. What an ineffable honor and privilege to see Jesus perform a miracle right before one’s eyes. But these Pharisees felt nothing but contempt because He did some of them on the Sabbath Day, when they thought it was inappropriate to do any work. So they invited Him to a Sabbath meal and planted a sick person in the room as a direct challenge to see what He would do.
What He did was turn the tables on them with some probing questions. Look at verses 3 through 6: Jesus asked the Pharisees and experts in the law, “Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath or not?” But they remained silent. So taking hold of the man, he healed him and sent him on his way. Then he asked them, “If one of you has a child or an ox that falls into a well on the Sabbath day, will you not immediately pull it out?” And they had nothing to say.
They had nothing to say because they didn’t have any good answers for the Lord’s questions and also, I suppose, because they were too angry to say anything. These scholars and experts of the law had just been outfoxed by an untrained street preacher from Galilee.
The Seating of the Banquet
All this took place before the meal even began, before anyone had taken their seats. But now, with the excitement of the healing behind them, they began to gather around the table. And Jesus, who didn’t miss anything and who seldom held back, noticed something. Look at verse 7 and following: When he noticed how the guests picked the places of honor at the table, he told them this parable: “When someone invites you to a wedding feast, do not take the place of honor, for a person more distinguished than you may have been invited. If so, the host who invited both of you will come and say to you, ‘Give this person your seat.’ Then, humiliated, you will have to take the least important place. But when you are invited, take the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he will say to you, ‘Friend, move up to a better place.’ Then you will be honored in the presence of all the other guests. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”
The question is why should we take a lower seat and let someone else have the higher seat? The reason isn’t because of a false display of humility or some kind of polite etiquette. It’s because we truly care about them and want them to have the best seat they can. Humility is very akin to love. It’s a matter of putting the needs of others before our own.
The year after Katrina and I moved to Nashville we were in K-Mart shopping for something with all the televisions in the TV department flashed to the scene in Washington, DC, where President Ronald Reagan had been shot. We raced home and watched the coverage.
Reagan survived, of course, and lived for many years. He’s the favorite president of my lifetime—and I started life when Truman was in the White House. At Reagan’s funeral in 2004, George H. W. Bush told an incident that occurred when Reagan was still in the hospital recovering from his wounds. He spilled some water, and when aides came in they found him down on his hands and knees wiping it up.
“What are you doing, Mr. President?” they said. “We have people for that.”
But he didn’t want to cause trouble for the nurse or orderly. Despite his injury, he felt he should wipe up that water himself. That wasn’t false humility or polite etiquette. It was just someone who didn’t want to cause extra work for someone else.
Humility is the kind of love that watches out for other people and delights when things go their way. We don’t need the chief seats. We know the best view of our Lord comes from the lowest seats.
The Sharing of the Banquet
Jesus went on to say something similar in verses 12-14: Then Jesus said to his host, “When you give a luncheon or dinner, do not invite your friends, your brothers or sisters, your relatives, or your rich neighbors; if you do, they may invite you back and so you will be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.”
In the first parable, the guests were at fault for seeking the best seats. In this parable, the host is at fault for only asking certain people to join the meal. When I was a child and I read this in the Bible or heard a sermon on it, it always bothered me. My parents entertained quite a bit, but it was always friends and family who showed up. We often had the preacher’s family or my uncles and aunts. Often we’d go with friends to a restaurant. And then I would read or hear this passage and I thought to myself, “Jesus specifically told us not to invite our family and friends for supper, but to invite outcasts and misfits.”
Now I realize that Jesus often spoke using the technique of hyperbole. That is, He overemphasized His words in order to make a point. But we don’t want to water these words down and miss the point He was making. We simply need to find ways of helping those who are in need. We need to be generous.
In some way, Jesus said, He will repay us at the moment of resurrection for the good we do to those less fortunate than ourselves.
The Savior of the Banquet
At this point, one of the other guests chime in. Verse 15 says: When one of those at the table with him heard this, he said to Jesus, “Blessed is the one who will eat at the feast in the kingdom of God.”
This man was disagreeing with Jesus. Notice the echo of the word “blessed.” Jesus said in verses 13-14 that if we invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind we will be blessed.” And this man said, “No, rather blessed is the one who keeps the rules of the Pharisees and is thereby invited to eat at the feast the Messiah will serve in the Kingdom age.”
Jesus didn’t argue with him. He simply told one more story, one more parable about those who would truly end up at the Marriage Supper of the Lamb. Look at verses 16-20: Jesus replied: “A certain man was preparing a great banquet and invited many guests. At the time of the banquet he sent his servant to tell those who had been invited, ‘Come, for everything is now ready.’ “But they all alike began to make excuses. The first said, ‘I have just bought a field, and I must go and see it. Please excuse me.’ “Another said, ‘I have just bought five yoke of oxen, and I’m on my way to try them out. Please excuse me.’ “Still another said, ‘I just got married, so I can’t come.’”
The demands of the world and the urgency of earthly matters takes precedence over the urgency of preparing for the coming banquet. Verse 21 says, “The servant came back and reported this to his master. Then the owner of the house became angry and ordered his servant, ‘Go out quickly into the streets and alleys of the town and bring in the poor, the crippled, the blind and the lame.’”
This man wanted people regardless of their status or condition to come and sit at his table and eat his delicious food and drink his aged wine and be entertained by his gracious hospitality. Verse 22 and following says: “‘Sir,’ the servant said, ‘what you ordered has been done, but there is still room.’ “Then the master told his servant, ‘Go out to the roads and country lanes and compel them to come in, so that my house will be full.
Go out into the highways and byways and compel them to come. The word compel does not mean force them but persuade them.
Then Jesus pressed home His whole point in verse 24: “I tell you, not one of those who were invited will get a taste of my banquet.’”
Notice those last two words: “My banquet.” Jesus told these Pharisees, “I accepted the invitation you extended to your banquet, but you have found every excuse in the world to avoid reserving your place at My banquet. You, the Jewish leaders to whom I came to save, have rejected My invitation to follow Me. And I am going to the world, to the lost, to the flotsam and jetsam of humanity, with My Gospel and the opportunity of breaking bread with Me at the Marriage Supper of the Lamb.”
Ever since Jesus spoke these words, those of us who know Him have felt He was speaking directly to us when He said, “Go out into the roads and country lanes and compel them to come in, so that my house may be full.”
Recently I read about a police officer named Mike DiSanza, who is now the president of a ministry called International Cops for Christ. One night on Christmas Eve he was finishing his shift about midnight and it was freezing. New York City was in the grip of a blizzard, and DiSanza was patrolling from 125th to 130th Streets, which is in Harlem. Suddenly he saw the silhouette of a man beside a lamppost. He was freezing cold and blood was dripping from one of his eyes. He was about eighteen. He looked at DiSanza and said, “Help me.”
DiSanza called for an ambulance, but none were available. He put his arms around the boy and led him to a nearby restaurant. The two men stumbled into the restaurant, and a server brought them both some hot soup. In the light of the restaurant, DiSanza could see how beat up the boy was. He wasn’t able to pick up the spoon, so DiSanza picked up the spoon and began getting some hot soup into him. The other diners were staring at them, but DiSanza said, “I really didn’t care what the other people in the restaurant thought. I was discovering what a wonderful feeling it was to give of myself and allow God to work through me.”
He managed to get the boy to St. Mary’s hospital, and then he headed home. He arrived home at 3 a.m. on Christmas morning, and his wife was waiting with a hot meal. He told her why he was so late and he said, “D’you know, Ann, God did a great thing tonight. All over the world people are searching for some meaning to life. They’re searching in bars, in drugs, in immorality, but here tonight on a desolate street in the middle of South Bronx, God made Himself known. He worked through me to help another human being.”
Later on that Christmas Day, DiSanza took the subway to St. Mary’s to see the boy, but he was asleep with tubes plugged into him everywhere. The next day he went again, with the same result. The third day he went again, and this time the boy was awake. DiSanza said, “How you doing?”
The boy said, “Who are you, man?”
“I’m the guy who brought you in here.”
“You didn’t bring me in here—they told me a cop brought me in here.”
“Yeah, I’m a cop.”
DiSanza said, “I sat down and I started talking with the young man. I hadn’t been a Christian that long, but I knew God wanted me here for a reason. I told him a little of my story, how I’d grown up in the Bronx and how I met Jesus. Then I said, ‘I don’t know what it’s all about, I’m still learning myself, but I do know that God loves you and that He sent me here to tell you that.’ I gave him a New Testament and a small pamphlet that explained things a little better than I could.”
“Brother,” said DiSanza, “if you let Jesus into your heart he can change your life.”
Two years later DiSanza was on patrol outside of a Baptist Church in Harlem. Someone came up from behind him, grabbed his shoulders, and kissed him on the cheek. He turned and saw a young man grinning at him. It was the boy, who had read the Gospel booklet and the New Testament while in the hospital. He trusted Christ as his Savior, went off to Bible college in Alabama, and was back in Harlem working in a church.
Here was a man who saw a young black man, beaten, bleeding, nearly frozen to death, and took him to a banquet of hot soup and then to the hospital. He went back three times to check on the boy, and as best he could he shared Jesus. It was two years later when he learned how God had used those moments of going into the highways and byways and compelling the lost to be saved.
I wonder if any of the dinner guests at the Pharisee’s banquet made the same discovery? Maybe they did, because the book of Acts speaks of the Gospel spreading through the Pharisees after the day of Pentecost.
Let’s ask God to help us spread the invitations and go into the highways and hedges with the news of the Gospel, and perhaps at the Marriage Supper of the Lamb you’ll find yourself seated beside someone who made it there, at least in part, through your witness, testimony, and efforts.