A guest would not normally presume to tell the host who should be on the invitation list, but Jesus is not your typical guest. He uses his status as a guest to advocate for those who would never be invited to such a fine banquet. The poor would be excluded because they could not reciprocate with an invitation to a banquet they would host. In Jesus’ day, people who were lame or blind were excluded from events in the Temple and generally left out of social events. But the Son of God came to include those typically ignored and left out by the community, turning social conventions upside down.

One of my daughter’s elementary school teachers had a firm rule: If a child in the class wanted to pass out birthday party invitations, there had to be an invitation for every child in the class. The same rule applied for the annual February tradition of passing out Valentines. I suppose the teacher had seen her share of devastated children, crying when no invitations or Valentine cards were deposited on their desks. Being left out hurts to the core. Being included heals.

One summer I witnessed the healing power of inclusion at the summer camp I helped run. For the weekly Thursday night dance, one of the summer-staff counselors learned enough sign language to invite a camper who was deaf to dance with him. The girl was stunned but readily agreed. She couldn’t hear the music, but she could feel the vibrations of the excited campers and staff and happily joined in the dancing. Her mother later told us that dance was the highlight of the girl’s summer.

Exclusion wounds. Inclusion mends.