The violence in this parable is startling. We can understand why people might decline an invitation, but to beat and murder the servants who extend the banquet invitation seems inexplicable. Likewise, we can understand the king being disappointed that those invited refused to come and angry about the mistreatment of his slaves—but to send his army to slaughter and burn an entire city seems .  .  .  a disproportionate response.

Then, of course, we have the odd conclusion where the improperly dressed guest is thrown into “the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” Matthew seems quite fond of having Jesus end parables with weeping and teeth gnashing; this is one of six passages in Matthew that ends this way (see also 8:12, 13:42, 13:50, 24:51 and 25:30), compared to only one instance in Luke and none in Mark or John. I’ve read commentaries suggesting it is unfair to expect someone randomly pulled in off the street to have a wedding robe handy, and other commentaries that say such robes would have been available for guests at the banquet—but in either case, teeth gnashing seems like an extreme consequence for the poor wedding guest.

I have to be honest here, I cannot find any good news in this parable when I read it with an understanding that God is the banquet host. I get that Matthew wants to communicate that everyone is invited to be part of the kingdom—even, and perhaps especially, those who have traditionally been excluded from “proper” religious community. I can happily read Luke’s version of the parable (Luke 14:15-24) that way, but all of this violence in Matthew pushes beyond this comfortable reading.

The king in this parable demonstrates qualities that are the opposite of how I understand God: This king is demanding and impatient; he is prideful and violent; he demands perfection and enacts harsh punishments on those who don’t cater to his whims. To be clear, this is the kind of god too many people are taught about, but it is not the God to whom scripture testifies—the God who is slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.

While God is not like this, however, plenty of people in power are. Still today, so much violence is fueled by the fragile egos of people who wield power.

You know who I feel sorry for in this parable? I mean, besides the slaves who are attacked by the invited guests and the people whose city was destroyed by the king’s troops and the guy thrown into the outer darkness? I feel sorry for the son. It’s supposed to be his wedding celebration and it has turned into a big ego trip for his dad and a whole bloody violent mess. Not how I would want to celebrate my wedding. Imagine the tension at the wedding banquet—especially after the robe-less guest gets thrown out. It would feel like: “O.K. Let’s all pretend we’re having a great time or the king might kill us too.”

I’m not sure exactly what to do with this parable as a preacher. But I think it would be a mistake to gloss over the violence. Because the violence is unavoidable in this parable and it is unavoidable in our world today. Perhaps, together with the Holy Spirit and the body of Christ, we can discern a word here from our God of peace.