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Jubilee Episcopal Church is an incense-swinging, sanctus-bell-ringing, stomp-your-feet- singing ancient way of following Jesus with more than enough room for you to bring your compassion, curiosities, and complete self. We're rooted in NW Austin, Texas, but connect with folks globally in sharing a joyful and inclusive Christian faith. The title comes from a prayer found in Compline, a service in the Book of Common Prayer, where we intercede for Jesus Christ to care and tend for the hurting, the sick, and the weary, but also, to shield the joyous. This prayer is our heartbeat at Jubilee. You'll hear sermons, devotions, and other occasional audio treats here -- including the occasional baby squawk or squeak from our decidedly family-friendly community!
We worship Sundays at 9:30am in person at 12129 FM 620 Ste 310 Austin, TX and online!
Watch Live: https://www.youtube.com/@jubileeatx/streams
Website: https://www.jubileeatx.org
IG: https://www.instagram.com/jubileeatx/
I am the curate here at Jubilee. So many years ago, when I first went off to undergrad, I was fresh out of my parents' house. I was living on my own. Well, in an apartment with a girl I didn't know. And I was ready to live my best life. I mean, I anticipated some things would be difficult. I would have to pay my own rent for the first time. I'd have to get used to someone living with someone that I didn't know. And I'd have to navigate a world without my friends and my family and my friends from high school. No problem, right? Unfortunately, there were many problems. It was harder to learn how to budget and pay bills on a part-time paycheck than I'd imagined. And I was a first-generation college student at one of the largest universities in the US and one of only a handful of students that looked like me. My roommate, Blesser, came to college with a whole set of friends from high school and did not seem particularly interested in making any new ones. So I found myself pretty lonely. So one day I was out and about and I ran into this guy I knew in high school, Marcus. Now, Marcus and I were not friends in high school, but I played basketball with his sister. So I knew of Marcus. I knew he was a decent guy. He was a church kid like me at the time. So Marcus and friend happened to live in these apartments like across the street from me. So we exchanged numbers and we decided, sure, we'll hang out sometimes. You know, why not? Well, Marcus tried calling me a few times, inviting me to hang out and even offering to pay platonically, guys. But he was working full-time. He knew I was a college student. But I had all kinds of reasons not to go at that time, even though I had agreed we should hang out. Y'all all know this story. Yeah, sure, we'll hang out sometimes. So I sort of made light of his invitations. Anyway, when I read this passage in Matthew today, I don't know why it made me think about Marcus. And I know being invited to hang out is not quite on the same level as being invited to a wedding banquet. But it did make me think about the reasons I didn't go. I wondered about these friends. So Jesus in this parable in Matthew is speaking to the Pharisees who at the time were one of the at least outwardly, most outwardly righteous group of Israelites. They were very proud to be a part of the chosen people of God, at least in title. But according to Matthew, they would not accept God's gift of Jesus. So they weren't producing sort of the fruits of the kingdom or changing in any way, even though they were invited to the opportunity. So Jesus has spent several passages leading up to this one talking to them in parables in their refusal to heed the voice of God and to do the work that it takes to produce fruit. So he goes on to tell them this parable about the kingdom of heaven. He compares the kingdom of heaven to a king who's invited some folks to his son's wedding. Well, when the time for the wedding banquet comes, this king sends out his servants and he says, call these people who I've invited, let them know it's ready. But his friends wouldn't come. Now, I can imagine the king after this initial request trying to figure out why the friends he invited are not showing up. Did they forget about the time? Maybe they were concerned there wouldn't be enough food for everyone? Or was it just wedding banquets weren't their thing? It made me think about all the stories I've heard over the years and even here at Jubilee in the last few months and other ministries and just of all the people from our different faith backgrounds, all the stories and experiences I've heard and what the things were that kept us from coming to God. Sometimes it was unfamiliarity with Christianity, like maybe you didn't grow up a Christian. Sometimes it was like a general distrust of God or Christians as a whole. And at times it was like trauma from previous religious traditions. I mean, we all had our things, right? And I know I had my reasons for not accepting my friend Marcus's invite. I mean, what will we do? We hadn't hung out in a long time. I think it would be awkward. It would have been awkward. We might not even like the same things. And I didn't even know if I had the extra time or the money to spend. Well, my friend Marcus persisted. I think he sensed that I needed a friend at that time. Despite my insistence that things were going well, I think he knew I felt out of place at such a big school, lost in a sea of kids who seemed to know what the heck they were doing when I did not. Looking back, I think he just wanted to help. Well, back in our parable, this king is going through his list, I'm sure, of the reasons why people aren't showing up. And he decides to send his servants out again, maybe to dissuade some of those doubts that his friends are having and get them to actually show up. So he has his servants share this message. Hey, I got plenty of good food. I've already paid for it. I've slaughtered the calves. It's ready. You don't actually have to bring anything. Just show up. He just wants to bless them, wants to spend time with his friends, right? So this time, the text says these people he's invited, they made light of it. They didn't take it seriously. They didn't see this invite as important. And so they went away, one to his farm, another to his business. And then others even got angry and they attacked his slaves. They mistreated and killed them. I mean, that escalated pretty quickly. But dang does it resonate. I mean, how often do we take this gift of the kingdom of God lightly? How often do we take God's church, God's people lightly? I mean, here God is offering us a new life, a table set before us, full of love and peace, hope and joy. And how often is our excuse for not coming to that table, for not coming to God, that we're busy, that we have things to take care of, that we don't have time, that maybe it's not worth it. But the God we know loves us so much that he persists. He keeps sending the invitation. He sends friends and neighbors and TikToks and Instagram reels and to keep reminding us of his invitation. Come to the wedding banquet. The table is set. And yes, some people will reject it anyway. Some of us did initially too. But it's because God wants so many of God's children to experience this goodness that he opens up the invitation for everyone. He sends his servants out to the streets and invites both the good and the bad, the people we like and the people we don't like, the people we think deserve to be at that banquet and those who we do or don't. All are invited. God's grace is freely given. And so maybe at some low point in our lives or when we finally decided to find out what this Christianity thing is all about, or maybe when we just gave in to God's persistence, well, at some point we decide to accept the invitation. We do the thing. We go to the wedding. We say yes to God. We become the Christians. Well, in my story, my friend Marcus persisted too. And one particularly difficult day when I was feeling low in confidence and pretty homesick, he called and asked if I wanted to go bowling with him and his roommate. So I finally accepted that invitation. But the story does not end there. Let me tell you. I hadn't been bowling in years, for one, and I never liked the idea of putting on shoes that didn't belong to me. So know how y'all feel about that. I felt like I could never find a good fit anyway. And in addition to this, Marcus was bringing this friend who I was not a big fan of. Let me tell you. So I already had a lot of reservations, but I thought I'll just show up. I'll hang out at a table. I'll be there for the company. I won't fully participate in the activity. Well, our parable for today doesn't end at the acceptance of the invites either, if you'd noticed. In fact, Jesus goes on and tells us that this king notices a man at the banquet without a wedding robe. Now, if you, like me, were very confused about this whole wedding robe situation at all, or have ever been, let me just tell you that I've come to learn that in the ancient Near East, some people believe it was customary for guests of the wedding banquet to wear a particular wedding robe. It was a sign of respect to the host to show your reverence for the occasion. Now, often you didn't have to bring the robe. The robe was freely given to you by the host. And a lot of hosts, wealthy hosts in particular, would use the robe as like an equalizer. So if all the guests were wearing the same thing, they could mingle without any markers of social division. Well, there's one guest here who had not put on this robe provided by the king. Now, why would he show up to this wedding but not put on this freely given robe? Why would he not fully participate in this party? I started to think, is it because he's upset that there were people there he didn't think should be there? Did he himself feel unworthy to be at the party? Did he feel like he didn't belong to this particular group? Or maybe he thought he would look silly in the robe, like he wouldn't put it on right. He thought maybe I could just show up to the banquet and enjoy it as an observer sitting back at a table without actually risking anything or displaying any vulnerabilities or changing in any way at all. We don't really know, right? And yes, this is a day. And so friends, I have to ask, I know we've accepted God's invitation to come to the wedding banquet, but have we put on the robe? Have we clothed ourselves in Christ, as the scripture says? And everyone loves that passage in Galatians 3 that says, there's no longer Jew nor Greek, there's no longer slave nor free, there's no longer male or female, for all of you are one in Christ Jesus. We love that, right? It gives us the warm and fuzzies. But do you know the verse before that? The verse before that is in Galatians 3 27 and it says, as many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourself in Christ. And there you have the qualifier. Being clothed in Christ is the qualifier. And yes, baptism is part of our clothing ourselves in Christ. When we say yes to this invite, we are offered that robe too and freely, but we actually have to put it on and let the fibers of it seep into our very being. One commentary says of this, that in making a decision to keep on the robe, we allow the outward effects of the gospel choices to finally settle in our hearts. So this means committing to Jesus to change us daily, committing to our baptismal covenant. It's committing to showing up to be a part when we don't always feel like it, for praying for our friends and our enemies, and talking to God regularly. It means allowing God to help us repent when we've done wrong and to forgive when someone wrongs us. It means confronting evil when we'd rather stay out of it. And it means recognizing the image of God in every single person, no matter what they have done, and not allowing an empire to desensitize you to human suffering and pain. And it means listening to the voice of the spirit when she nudges you to stop that thing that's hurting you when you don't really want to stop. Putting on that robe and allowing it to change us requires faith. It requires trust that God won't let us fall when we try. When we show up to church after a late night to fellowship with other believers, that God won't let us look silly. When we make that phone call we've been avoiding, that God is right there with us. It requires laying aside our pride and being okay with our vulnerabilities. It means letting Jesus into not only the manicured parts of our lives, but also into the messy, not only into the beautiful parts, but also into the broken, not only into the sacred, but also into the secular, not only into our daylight hours, but also into the darkest of nights, into the moments that no one sees, into the heartbreak that nearly breaks us. It means not letting our insecurities or what we look like or feel like or what's going on around us or how people are talking about us keep us away from getting close to the God who loves us. The God who loves you, the God who called you, the God who fills your cup, the God who stands beside you, the God who said he'd never leave you or forsake you even when others did, and the God who sets a table before us and only asks that we clothe ourselves in Christ, the son he so freely gave so that we could fully enjoy the gift of the kingdom. Now the king asked this man why he's not wearing a robe, and unfortunately the man doesn't have an excuse. So the king casts him out, and I know so many of us are really uncomfortable with this passage. I am too. Do not like it, not a fan. We don't like the ending of the story, but I think the whole point here is that Jesus is trying to help us understand how unfortunate it is, how silly to not accept the beauty of this free gift that God is willingly setting before us simply because of our refusal to put on a robe, our refusal to put on a garment God has freely given us, our refusal to fully participate in the kingdom. So if you're wondering, I did go out bowling that night. I saw how much fun everybody was having and it seemed silly of me to sit on the outside looking in when someone else had paid for me to come, had provided the food and the drinks, and even the bowling shoes that I scoffed at wearing so I decided to jump into the game, and it was awkward, of course, starting a conversation and trying to remember how to bowl and not look silly and all the things, but that night I laughed harder than I had in a long time. I got to share how school was going, how my life was going with friend who cared about me, and I was encouraged by him and reminded, he reminded me of who I was and that I was just as worthy to be where I was as anybody else. So Marcus and I became good friends for the rest of my time in school. We hung out frequently. We walked each other through relationship drama. Y'all know how that goes. He'd helped me fix my car and he sometimes spotted me money when it was real tight for me. His friendship helped me to learn and taught me to maintain my confidence in spaces where I was surrounded by people who didn't look like me or act like me, and once I graduated we went our separate ways. We lost touch, but we would still check in every now and then, and one of our last check-ins was in 2011, and I asked Marcus how he was doing, and he wrote, blessed when I know it and blessed when I forget, and then he reminded me to pay attention and hold on to God's unchanging hand. My friend Marcus passed away suddenly in 2015 at 31, and every day I'm grateful that I finally accepted that invitation and put on those bowling shoes that night so many years ago. It led to that friendship with which positively impacted me in so many ways, and so friends I'm here to remind you that showing up matters and making a choice to fully participate, to be fully present, to go all in on this faith thing that also matters. God has invited us to the banquet, set a table before us filled with good things and is offering us a new life. All we have to do is show up, change into the robe God has freely offered, let Jesus seep in and allow him to transform our lives. Amen.