(St. Luke 14:15-24)

This parable of the Great Supper has kept me company many times. I picture a table already laid, a host waiting with hope, and a door that stands open. The words, “Now all things are ready,” rest the heart. They remind me that our Lord begins before we begin. He is not trying to catch us out; He is trying to gather us in. I think of the simple meals taken in silence. Bread, water, a little fruit. The point is not the food; it is the welcome. Our Lord tells us that the Kingdom is like a banquet because He wishes us to know that we are wanted. You and I are not afterthoughts to our Creator. He has made a place for each of us, not at the back, not standing at the wall, but at His table.

The refusals in the parable are painfully familiar. A field to inspect, oxen to test, a marriage to tend. None of these is evil. They are good gifts that deserve care. Yet good gifts can take the first chair if we let them. In my own life, even the small duties of a hermitage can press too hard. The roof needs mending, the visitor needs a word, the correspondence and emails pile up. If I am not watchful, these become excuses that pull me from prayer and from the Lord who calls. Please do not hear this as scolding. It is an invitation to honesty. What are your “fields” and “oxen” and “marriage” today? For some it is work that never ends. For others it is worry that never rests. For others again it is hurt that has not yet healed. Bring these to the Lord without disguise. He knows the shape of your life better than you do, and He loves you within that shape, not outside it.

When the first guests refuse, the host widens the circle. He sends the servant to the streets and lanes, and then even beyond the city to hedges and country roads. I am moved by that line, “and yet there is room.” The Father’s house is not tight and narrow. It is generous. If you feel unworthy, poor, unwell in body or soul, unsure of the way, then know this…you are exactly the kind of guest the Lord sends His servant to find.

Sadly, the words, “compel them to come in,” have been abused in history. However, I hear them differently. There is a compulsion that comes from kindness, from beauty, from truth spoken with patience. A warm light in a window compels on a cold night. A trustworthy friend compels by steady presence. This is how the Church must invite…by lives that are recognisably changed, by worship that is reverent and welcoming, by service that puts the fragile at ease.

For us who belong to older tradition, this parable appears each time the deacon or priest lifts the holy gifts and we hear, “With fear of God, faith, and love, draw near.” The altar is the prepared table. The Lamb is the bread of the Kingdom. The Divine Liturgy is not an interruption of your life; it is your life’s centre and strength. If you have been away, return. If you come often, come with a fresh heart. Lay aside what weighs you down and let the Lord feed you with Himself.

You may ask, how do I stop making excuses when my responsibilities are real? The way is gentle and practical. Set a small rule that you can keep. For example, a psalm in the morning, the Jesus Prayer on your commute, a visit to confession this week, a simple act of alms-giving that blesses someone specific. Over time, I have learned that small faithfulness opens large doors. Begin where you are. Grace meets you there.

There is a warning in the parable, and love requires me to voice it. “None of those men that were invited shall taste of my supper.” This is not spite; it is consequence. If I will not come when the door is open, I eventually train my heart to prefer the outside. Please do not teach your heart to starve. Let the Lord interrupt you for your good. He will not waste your time. He will reorder your loves so that your duties become lighter, not heavier.

Lord Jesus, You have set the table and called us by name. Heal our excuses, calm our fears, soften what is hard in us, and kindle what is cold. Gather the poor parts of our lives and seat them near Your heart. Make our parishes houses of warm light on the road, and make each of us a trustworthy invitation to Your feast. Amen.

May God bless you +

Fr. Charles
4 November 2025