Accepting our Lord’s invitation
“THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN may be compared to a king who gave a marriage feast for his son, and sent his servants to call those who were invited to the marriage feast; but they would not come” (Mt 22:2-3). With this parable, Jesus evokes the history of salvation. God had prepared his covenant first of all for Israel and repeatedly sent prophets to them, but his invitation often met with indifference or rejection. However, the banquet is not left empty: our Lord opens his doors to all peoples. And also today, twenty centuries later, God continues to call us to share in the wedding feast of his Son with all humanity.
Our Lord seeks us out to share in the joy of living in communion with Him. However, like the guests in the parable, we too can become absorbed by our occupations, worries and plans. Not necessarily because we want to reject God, but because sometimes we are so immersed in our obligations that we don’t want anything to interrupt us. And perhaps we think that more tranquil times will come later. As a result, “we often perceive how trying to do too much, instead of giving us fulfilment, becomes a vortex that overwhelms us, takes away our serenity, and prevents us from living to the fullest what is truly important in our lives. We then feel tired and dissatisfied: time seems to be wasted on a thousand practical things that do not, however, resolve the ultimate meaning of our existence.”[1]
This restlessness reveals that our heart is not content with just anything. Our deepest destiny lies not in the accumulation of possessions or activities of varying importance, but in God’s love. This love does not separate us from our daily life, and teaches us to recognize our Lord in the people He places beside us. “This treasure,” Leo XIV said, “can only be found by loving the neighbor we meet along the way: brothers and sisters in flesh and blood, whose presence stirs and questions our heart, calling it to open up and give itself. Our neighbor asks us to slow down, to look them in the eye, sometimes to change our plans, perhaps even to change direction.”[2] When we endeavor in our daily life to serve the people around us, we are accepting our Lord’s invitation to share in his banquet.
“THE WEDDING HALL was filled with guests” (Mt 22:10). Frequently in Sacred Scripture, the gift of eternal life is expressed with the image of a banquet. This is not a casual comparison: it stems from a profoundly human experience, the joy of sitting at the table with others and speaking about communion with God and with our brothers and sisters in heaven. Eating is not merely satisfying a biological need. In every culture, sharing food possesses a richness that goes far beyond simple sustenance. Food is a gift from God, a reflection of his wisdom and goodness; preparing a table with care shows a tender affection for others, and sharing food and conversation is a sign of welcome and communion.
The time we spend with others can become more than just shared moments: it can be a true experience of communion. Sometimes it’s enough to be attentive to what others might need, to listen patiently, to bring up a topic that encourages everyone to participate, or to naturally include someone who has been left out. These are simple, almost imperceptible gestures that allow a meal or a time spent with friends to become a space where everyone feels welcome, like a small foretaste of the happiness that awaits us in heaven.
“Fraternity is not a beautiful but impossible dream; it is not the desire of a deluded few. The word ‘fraternity’ derives from a very ancient root, which means to care for, to have at heart, to support and sustain. Applied to every human person, it becomes an appeal, an invitation.”[3] Our communion with God and with our fellow men and women will be perfect in heaven. Until then, it is a gift we can already enjoy and, at the same time, a task entrusted to each of us: with his light and strength, Jesus helps us to become ever more capable of building authentic bonds with the people around us.
“WHEN the king came in to look at the guests, he saw there a man who had no wedding garment; and he said to him, ‘Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding garment?’” (Mt 22:11-12). Along with the symbol of the banquet, our Lord uses the symbol of clothes in this parable. At great feasts, then as now, guests would arrive in formal attire. In the Israel of Jesus’ time, moreover, when they arrived at the host’s house, their feet were washed, their heads were anointed with balm, and they were greeted with a kiss as a sign of welcome.
The king had summoned everyone, “both good and bad” (Mt 22:10). Salvation is not elitist, it is not reserved for a select few: “God calls everyone, he expects love from everyone: from everyone, wherever they may be; from everyone, whatever their state, profession, or occupation.”[4] But responding to God’s call means allowing ourselves to be transformed by grace. The Gospel is not a patch superficially sewn onto the garment of our old clothes, but a profound renewal of our whole being. “Without grace we cannot take a step forward in Christian life. Everything is grace. It is not enough to accept the invitation to follow the Lord; one must be open to a journey of conversion, which changes the heart. The garment of mercy, which God offers us unceasingly, is the free gift of his love; it is precisely grace. And it demands to be welcomed with astonishment and joy.”[5]
The wedding garment, therefore, expresses the desire to enter God’s banquet with a renewed life, allowing his grace to transform our affections and our actions. One who dresses for a wedding acknowledges the grandeur of what is being celebrated; likewise, one who enters God’s banquet is called to be clothed in Christ and his way of loving. We can ask the Virgin Mary to help us accept her Son’s invitation and allow ourselves to be transformed by Him.
[1]Leo XIV, Audience, 17 December 2025.
[2] Ibid.
[3] Leo XIV, Audience, 12 November 2025.
[4] Saint Josemaría, Letter 2, no. 2.
[5] Francis, Angelus, 11 October 2020.