The Wedding Feast

On saturday, Jenni and Andrew got married.
I was there.
It was great.

Just after the food came out I had to go and drop some honeymoon supplies into their car. Being the cautious man that I am and not wanting all the yummy treats to be hogged by the other wedding guests, I piled up a plate of snacks and headed out to the car (I was pretty hungry).

As I was fumbling with the boot, a man waled up to me and introduced himself and his wife. They were homeless, they looked pretty dirty, they looked pretty broken. I don't even remember their names. His wife had a baby wrapped to her back and it was starting to stir. He asked if I could help.

I told him the truth, that I was at a wedding and had no money on me, but they were welocome to help themselves to the sausage rolls and cheese cake on my little saucer. They took some, said thanks and wandered on. They even left me something for the walk back to the reception.

Those encounters always leave me feeling a bit empty, but this one more so than most. I think it was because Jesus told so many stories about weddings, and none of them ended like this. In Jesus' stories, it is usually guys like me who miss out on the wedding feast and guys like the one in the cart park who are invited in. Don't get me wrong, I'm very thankful I have already RSVP'ed for my invite. Which makes me all the more dark for having only shared my finger food with him.

Scott