The Dinner Party Story.

Luke 14.15-24.

Jesus has two very similar parables in the gospels: The Wedding Party Story in Matthew, and the Dinner Party Story in Luke. Christians tend to lump ’em together, iron out the differences, and claim they’re about precisely the same thing. They’re actually not. The differences are big enough to where we gotta look at the variant parables individually, not together.

In the Wedding Party Story, Jesus compares his kingdom to a king holding a wedding for his son. That’s not a mere social function; it’s political. People’s response to that wedding was a political statement; it wasn’t merely some friends revealing how they’re not really friends. Whereas what we see in the Dinner Party Story is an act of hospitality, generosity, and love on the homeowner’s part… and the invitees blow him off because they’d rather do anything than spend time with him. The rebellion and sedition we detect in the Wedding Party Story isn’t in this story. These are just people being dicks to a guy who just wants their company.

God just wants to love his people, and give us his kingdom. And his people would honestly rather do anything else.

Luke 14.15-24 KWL

15Someone reclining at dinner with Jesus,

hearing this, tells him, “How awesome

for whoever will eat bread in God’s kingdom!”

16Jesus tells him, “Some person is having a large dinner,

and is inviting many.

17He’s sending his slave at the dinner hour

to tell the invited, ‘Come! It’s ready now!’

18And every one of them

is beginning to excuse themselves.

The first is telling him, ‘I’m buying a field.

I seriously need to go out and see it.

I pray you, have me excused.’

19Another is saying, ‘I’m buying five teams of oxen.

I have to try them out.

I pray you, have me excused.’

20 Another is saying, ‘I’m marrying a woman.

This is why I can’t come.’

21Coming back, the slave is reporting

these things to his master.

Then the enraged homeowner is telling his slave,

‘Go out quickly to the city’s squares and alleys,

and the poor, maimed, blind, and disabled:

Bring them here!’

22The slave is saying, ‘Master, I did as you ordered,

and there’s still room.’

23The master is telling the slave,

‘Go out of the city to the roads and property lines,

and make people come,

so my house can be full!

24For I tell you none of those invited men

will taste my dinner.’ ”

Now y’notice the consequences of rejecting the dinner party are way less extreme than we see in the Wedding Party Story. In Matthew the king who throws the wedding party burns down a few cities, then has an underdressed guest hogtied and thrown out. Whereas in Luke the homeowner who throws the dinner party simply says, “None of those invited men will taste my dinner.” They’re not gonna be dead, nor cast into outer darkness where “there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” Mt 22.13 They’re only gonna miss out on a really nice meal.

Crummy friends with crummy excuses.

The dinner party host invites his guests to dinner, and it’s a μέγα/méga dinner. Yep, it’s the same word in both Greek and English: It’s big. It’s important. It’s the sort of dinner where he’d’ve been an idiot had he not confirmed they were coming, because he prepared a lot of food, and there were no refrigerators back then, so it had to be eaten that day. He fully expected they’d come—and they begged off with some really lame excuses.

The verb tense of these excuses is aorist, which is not the past tense, although it’s regularly translated that way. Aorist means there’s no time in the tense itself; no past, no present, no future, no perfect, no imperfect. It happened at some undetermined time, likely the past because very few stories are set in the present and future. But how we properly translate it is through the tense of the verb which precedes it—and that’d be the present imperfect ἐποίει/epíei, “he is having,” in verse 16. One could try to argue Jesus meant something else, but if that’s so he would’ve used the appropriate verb.

So these guys aren’t saying, past perfect, “I have bought,” like the KJV has it; nor “I have just bought,” like the NIV puts it—inserting that “just” to imply these are recent purchases. It’s present imperfect, which means it’s happening now: “I am buying.” When’d they buy this stuff? Well, not in the past, nor the recent past; they’re currently buying it. They’re in the process. They’re in escrow. Or, which is entirely likely, no money nor promise has exchanged hands at all… they are in fact thinking of buying this stuff, and thinking about it all the harder because it’s such a useful way to get out of this dinner party. Of course, people presume these are all past-tense actions, and therefore valid excuses, but that’s because they were led that way by an inadequate translation.

And even if they bought this stuff, there are no cultural obligations which meant they couldn’t make it to dinner. I’ve heard people actually try to defend these guests—“Well if an ancient Israeli bought land, he was legally obligated to go inspect it.” No he wasn’t. Somebody mighta told you that, but I don’t know where they got it; it’s not historical. It’s not in the Law, nor in Pharisee tradition. An Israeli could’ve purchased anything sight unseen, and never visited it, if he so chose. True, some sellers might demand you see their property, and the deal was contingent on that. Same as now. But there’s no reason to presume this was that. The way Jesus tells the story, everybody’s backing out for weak reasons, and this is meant to be interpreted as one of those weak reasons.

Likewise the guy who’s buying five teams of oxen: Yes, 10 oxen is a major purchase. Yes he should try them out to make sure they’re not 10-year-old cattle who can barely stand, much less plow his fields. But this being the case, why’d he inconveniently schedule his purchase when he knew there’d be a dinner party? This isn’t a surprise major purchase—“Wait, I gotta harvest my crops next week? I had no idea! Well I’d better buy some oxen right now!” Plus there’s no way he could drive five teams by himself: He had to have at least four other guys in his employ who could drive the other teams while he did. And shouldn’t any of these other guys be fully capable of testing out his oxen for him?

Lastly the guy who just got married. Okay, verse 24 refers to “none of those invited men,” which suggests the host only invited men. Hence some preachers claim this was a men’s-only dinner, and the newlywed might’ve wanted to bring his wife, which seems like a valid enough reason to beg off the dinner. But I doubt it. In patriarchal cultures, if you wanted to formally invite a woman to a social function, you invited her patriarch, and implied to him that he oughta bring her. If he didn’t care to personally attend, he’d send her with a chaperone. But in any event men didn’t formally invite women to dinner parties. Informally maybe, but this wasn’t meant to be mistaken for an informal dinner. There were invitations.

Really, it was because the newlywed didn’t want to take a break from romping with the new wife, and go have dinner. No self-control on his part. Most of us can understand that, but still.

So everybody bailed on the host, and he was understandably enraged: He spent a lot of money on food, wine, and cooks, and now everything would go uneaten, and go to waste. But no it wouldn’t: “Go out quickly to the city’s squares and alleys,” he instructed his slave, “and the poor, maimed, blind, and disabled: Bring them here!” Lk 14.21 Go get people whom the host knew would be hungry, and appreciate his hospitality.

The Dinner Party Story comes right after the Dinner Party for the Poor Story, in which Jesus says,

Luke 14.12.14 NLT

12Then he turned to his host. “When you put on a luncheon or a banquet,” he said, “don’t invite your friends, brothers, relatives, and rich neighbors. For they will invite you back, and that will be your only reward. 13Instead, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. 14Then at the resurrection of the righteous, God will reward you for inviting those who could not repay you.”

Jesus lists the very same disadvantaged folks in both his lesson and this story: The poor, maimed, blind, and disabled. Not in the same order, but they’re the very same words. People who can’t possibly practice reciprocity, because they can’t throw a dinner party. But that’s okay. You’re not doing it for payback. You’re doing it to be awesome.

Apparently this dinner was so mega, they ran out of poor people in the city! Or at least poor people who would accept a free meal. You probably know people who absolutely refuse to accept anything for free—including grace—because they feel they should earn everything they have, and owe no one anything, nor be in any kind of karmic debt whatsoever. It’s a pride thing. But in my experience, the reason God lets some people be poor and stay poor is because he’s trying to break their pride off them… ’cause if he ever gives such people money, they’re gonna be so insufferably stingy.

Anyway the host had to order his slave “to the roads and property lines” (KJV “the highways and hedges”) —to places which’d be outside the city gates, where he might find people on their way to town, who might be tired and hungry and in need of a good meal, and here was a really good meal! The invitation was now extended, not just to the poor and needy who might know who the host was, but to strangers who might not. But that’s okay; there’s plenty of food.

Spite and God’s kingdom.

SPITE spaɪt noun. A desire to hurt, offend, or annoy someone else.

2. An act without regard for the wishes of someone else.

3. [verb] To deliberately hurt, offend, or annoy.

[Spiteful 'spaɪt.f(ə)l adjective.]

Okay, time to address the elephant in the room. The last comment the host makes, “For I tell you none of those invited men will taste my dinner,” Lk 14.24 sounds just a bit spiteful. Or at least many a preacher has phrased it that way. Those guys who passed on dinner are totally gonna miss out.

And historically, spiteful preachers have interpreted it this way. They claim the dinner is God’s kingdom, and the invited men who passed on dinner were God’s chosen people, the Jews. But because the Jews rejected Jesus, none of them are gonna inherit God’s kingdom. Because doesn’t the host in this story say so? “None of those invited men” means none of the Jews, right?

Which is a ridiculous assumption. All the first Christians were Jews. All the authors of the New Testament were either Jews by ancestry or (in Luke’s case) conversion. There are still tons of Christians of Jewish descent. Jesus is no antisemite; he’s the king of the Jews! It’s all kinds of stupid to apply antisemitic ideas to Jesus’s teachings.

But there’s spite, and there’s spite. The noun spite actually has two definitions, as you’ll see above. The first is to deliberately, malicously hurt others. The second is to act with no regard for whether it’ll hurt others. There’s active spite, and passive spite. Both can be sinful, or not, depending on why you’re gonna hurt others.

In Jesus’s behavior, you see way more of the passive sort. Plenty of people didn’t want him to do as he did. Didn’t want him to cure people on sabbath, as he did at the beginning of this chapter. Didn’t want him to love and bless the people they hate or envy. Definitely don’t want him to overthrow their favorite institutions. Nor intervene in their affairs. Especially not hinder them from doing the evil things they enjoy most.

And a lot of times, even today, Jesus will give them space, and let them do as they please. But not without critique. And when their selfish desires unjustly harm others, especially the needy, he’s gonna intervene; he won’t stand by forever. He’s our savior, y’know. He’ll save people in spite of their haters. Not to deliberately enrage them, though God knows they’ll be enraged. (And even though God’s people, who are way less kind than God is, will kinda enjoy their rage.)

Is the host being spiteful to his invited guests? Yes, but I’d argue it’s passive spite. They bailed on his dinner because they don’t appreciate him, and offered lame excuses because they wanted him to know how little they thought of him. But rather than dwell on their offensive behavior, he threw his dinner party all the same. Rather than be frustrated he didn’t have enough guests, he went out and got guests. Rather than be miserable and not enjoy himself, I’m pretty sure he enjoyed himself a great deal. Generosity is fun!

None of this was to make the invited people miserable because they missed out. I doubt the host cared whether his invitees were miserable. He had other things to focus on. Like making sure he had enough wine for all his new guests. Making sure they weren’t hesitant about eating as much as they wished. Being a good host in general.

God’s kingdom is like this host’s generosity. Everybody’s invited. Not everybody’s gonna accept the invitation. But if they think God’s gonna wallow in misery about their rejection, he really won’t; he’s gonna grant his kingdom to all sorts of people who don’t deserve it, like me. Strangers and gentiles who never initially expected to be included. It’ll be awesome.