A Masterful Invitation

A Masterful Invitation(1,217)

July 24th, 2011

Dear Jesus:

We just wanted to drop you a note to invite you to the upcoming nuptials of our daughter and son-in-law. They have requested that we extend this invitation to you and we must apologize for the late notice, but we have taken some time to deliberate their request, balancing it with the nature of the festivities and quite honestly, in regards to your reputation. Please don’t be offended, but we have been concerned in relationship to several matters.

As you probably realize, there will be people at the ceremony from all walks of life, including Pharisees and members of local town councils. So if we could be so presumptuous, we would like you to refrain from talking about religion and politics during the time you are here with us. We feel that if you referred to the visiting clergy as “a brood of vipers” and the politicians as “whited sepulchers, stealing from widows”—well, there could be a bit of misunderstanding.

Also, if you wouldn’t mind and considering the nature of a marriage ceremony, we would request that you wouldn’t make your normal reference to “committing adultery in your heart.” Although I’m sure the meaning of that phrase might be beneficial to some, or even understandable, considering the general tone of the day, it’s possible it could be misconstrued.

Bluntly, we also would like you to not bring any prostitutes to the event. I hope this directness is not offensive to you, but we heard about the incident at the dignitary’s house—where a woman of ill-repute washed your feet with her tears as she kissed you. We find this a bit inappropriate for this occasion, especially since I’m a lawyer who prosecutes vice and prostitution, and the groom’s father sells footwear.

Moving along, we want you to understand that we are not prejudiced people in the least. Matter of fact, some of our best friends would be classified by others as “those people.” We have heard through the grapevine that you refer to Samaritans as “good.” I’m sure there is validity to that chain of thought. But we don’t think it would be wise for you to bring Samaritans to the marriage ceremony and reception because … well, I don’t think they would be comfortable. They have their own way of doing things, their own culture, their own style of music, their own taste in food and I think they would find our particular rendition a bit bland. We’re just normal.

Moving along, we would also like to encourage you—yes, that’s the word—encourage you to keep your friends who are lepers and demon-possessed away from the celebration. The rumor is, I understand, that these people are former lepers and formerly demon-possessed, but one never knows when they might relapse.

Matter of fact, while we’re on the subject, would you please be so kind as to consider this invitation for yourself and a date? I’ve heard you have a collection of about twelve companions who come from a myriad of backgrounds, and they may not find this particular environment to their liking. Now, there is nothing wrong with having odd friends—I personally have an acquaintance who wears different shades of robes every week. Imagine that. But I understand that some of your disciples are fishermen, and the fragrance of the sea in the room might be a bit of a put-off.

And finally, I understand that you have spoken a parable about a wedding feast, where the size of the crowd is portrayed as insufficient and that in this story, you demanded that more people be called in from the streets until the house was filled. Perhaps we should explain to you that ours is a selected guest list—by choice. Having a “full house” is not our aim, but rather, having close friends and family joined in a spiritual unison of sweet fellowship is much more desirable to us.

So with those very few things in mind, we would like to joyously invite you to this festive day where we celebrate the union of our children. Thanks for understanding.

Yours in God’s love,

Nick and Paula O’Demus

P.S. As you can probably tell by our last name, we have a little Irish in our blood. So concerning that phrase of yours—“the least of these, my brethren”—we do welcome you to invite the “little people.” We can always use the luck of a leprechaun.