The old man shuffled his way along the sidewalk. It was now dark and his vision was failing, so he moved slowly and deliberately, afraid of falling. He had gone to sit in the park by the ocean as he did most days. He would feed the sea gulls and watch the waves roll in, and he would think of his wife. They used to walk together on the beach.
The old man stayed longer than usual as the sunset was worth the delay. He watched until the sun was tucked behind the ocean and the glory of its rays had succumbed to the blackness of the night. But this made the return journey to his small apartment rather treacherous.
His route took him past some of the grand old mansions built in the time of the shipping magnets. A tall wall surrounds the largest of these old homes. As he approached he heard clanging of dishes and the bustle of activity. Light streamed from the house as though every room was lit up. A smartly dressed servant was walking up and down the street, carrying a little lantern.
“Someone is having a great party,” mused the old man.
He stopped and smiled and wondered what these folks were celebrating.
He turned back to resume his walk and saw the servant coming to meet him. “What does this fellow want?” he asked himself.
“Sir,” said the servant with an elaborate bow, “My master is having a great banquet, he would like for you to come join him.”
“I don’t even know your master, why would he want me to come?” the old man asked.
“My master has prepared a great feast, and he wants you.” said the servant.
“Does he not have enough invited guests?” the old man asked.
“He did, but they did not arrive, they all cancelled at the last minute.” The servant waved toward the driveway where several white vans were parked as workers unloaded food and supplies. “But the party must go on. My master asked me to welcome you and bring you in.”
The old man stood motionless. He thought about his small, dark, lonely apartment and then looked at the brightly lit home before him.
“I guess I’d be happy to oblige your master,” said the old man.
The servant nodded and then motioned as he led him to the front entrance of the great hall.
As the door opened they were not greeted by another servant but by the master of the house.
The master smiled approvingly at the servant and then extended his hand to his guest. “Welcome to my banquet, Walter, I’m so glad you could join me.” He shook the old man’s hand.
The old man stared and then asked, “How do you know my name?”
The master took Walter by the arm and led him to a seat at the elaborately decorated table. “I see you walk to the sea and back every day. Do you think no one can see you? I have watched you for years. You used to go with Susan, your wife, but for many years now you have made the journey on your own.”
The old man sat down in stunned silence.
The master leaned over and said, “Walter, eat and enjoy the banquet I have prepared.” The master patted him on the back and then returned to the door to welcome any new guests. The old man sat motionless as a tear ran down his cheek.
Luke 14: 16-24 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 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.’
“‘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. I tell you, not one of those who were
invited will get a taste of my banquet.'”
Roberta Writes 