And one of those that were lying at table with [them], hearing these things, said to him, Blessed [is] he who shall eat bread in the kingdom of God.
A guest at a Pharisee's table hears Jesus speak of repayment at the resurrection of the just. He bursts out with a word about the happiness of eating bread in God's kingdom. The Lord does not simply agree. He answers with a parable. The question behind it is what a true saying about future blessing is worth while the invitation stands open now.
The remark did not come out of nowhere. It answered a promise Jesus had just made.
The Lord had said, "You will be repaid at the resurrection of the just", and that promise apparently caused the man to speak as he did.
Nothing he said was wrong. Writers agree the man spoke the truth.
A perfectly right statement, suggesting that something of the blessedness of the Lord's words had been brought home to him.
Commentators differ on the man's motive. Some see a real stirring of heart in him:
I believe a gracious stirring had come over the heart of one of the guests when he said, "Blessed is everyone who will eat bread in the kingdom of God!" He was drawn to the Lord, I have no doubt.
Others hear only pleasant religious talk with nothing behind it. They turn the man's words into a test for the reader:
This man was religious and nothing more. He wanted to pay the Lord a compliment, like those today who are content with the outward form of religion. They have never been broken down before God. They have never eaten this bread, and have never entered into what Jesus is. If I really believe it is blessed to eat bread in the kingdom of God, I will leave no stone unturned until I am sure I have eaten it.
He looked ahead to a coming day of glory. He missed the kingdom already standing in front of him, sending out its invitations while he spoke.
He had the future glory of the kingdom in mind. But he did not realize that the kingdom also had a present form, living and moral, which the Jews did not value. The invitations to that great supper were going out at that very moment, for the true King was there in lowly grace. Yet many were making excuses.
The Lord's answer treats the remark as a mistake — not about the blessing, but about how ready people are to take it.
The grace of the Lord was plainly divine, and it worked on the spirit of one of the men lying at table with Him. What he heard suited heaven far more than anything yet carried out on earth. So he said, "Blessed is everyone who will eat bread in the kingdom of God!" Our Lord then proves this to be a great mistake, as far as man's readiness to answer the grace of God goes.
Another writer sets the resurrection the Lord had mentioned beside the kingdom the man named. He grants the words, then presses further.
The resurrection of the just is closely connected with the kingdom of God set up in power and display, but it comes before that kingdom, because all who are raised then will reign with the Lord for a thousand years (Rev. 20:4). True indeed. But who will share in that is the important question, and in such a matter it will not do to rest in generalities. Nor would God let anyone rest satisfied with that. So the Lord at once spoke a parable to warn the company against shutting themselves out from blessing. For if they were shut out, it would be by their own act.
The man spoke of blessing still to come. One writer rests everything on one word in the Lord's reply: now.
See how the Lord answered the man who could only imagine blessing from God beyond the grave. He set before him the parable of the great Supper, and announced the invitation to it: "Come, for everything is NOW ready." I must stress the word "now," and I am sure the Lord did too. What a word it is! It surely means that God will not keep men waiting for happiness until they are dead; He offers to make them happy now.
- Prompted. Jesus promised repayment at the resurrection of the just. That set the man talking about the blessing of eating bread in God's kingdom.
- True. His words were right. Something of the blessedness of the Lord's teaching had reached him.
- Untested. Commentators differ on his heart. Some see a gracious stirring. Others see a compliment from a man content with the form of religion, who had never eaten that bread himself.
- Blind. He looked only at a future glory. He missed the kingdom in front of him, already sending out its invitations through the King in lowly grace.
- Answered. The Lord answers with a parable, because a general statement about future blessing settles nothing. The supper is ready now. Those who miss it shut themselves out by their own act.
And he said to him, A certain man made a great supper and invited many.
At a dinner table, a guest has just called blessed the man who eats bread in the kingdom of God. The Lord replies with a story about a host, a feast and a guest list — and it leaves us asking who the host is and who finally sits down.
The guest's comment was true, but vague. The Lord's story turns it into a personal question.
True indeed. But the important question is who will share in it. On a matter like this, general answers will not do. God would not leave anyone satisfied with them. So the Lord at once spoke a parable. It warned the company against shutting themselves out from blessing. For, if excluded, it would be by their own act.
The host has no name. Older translations read "a certain man" where the ESV has "a man." One commentator identifies Him, and finds three reasons packed into one word "great."
The Lord then says, in effect, to this man, "I will test you. You say, 'Blessed is he who shall eat bread' and so on. I will see whether you are in earnest. 'A certain man made a great supper and invited many.'" The "certain man" is God. Notice the word great. It is not just a supper, but "a great supper." It is great because of what the supper includes. It is great because of the One who spreads it. It is great because of the wonderful grace that spread it for those who, sadly, would only slight and despise it.
A host who spreads a supper is not a lawgiver making demands.
This beautiful parable of the great supper shows us that God is not demanding from man, on the principle of law. He is giving, providing, in free grace. "A certain man made a great supper." So He provided everything; the guests brought nothing. What a new truth this was about God and salvation! These men lived under the law, which did not give but demanded. This supper was great because it cost the greatest price in the universe: the death of the Lord Jesus Christ. The agony, the atoning suffering of the cross, forsaken by God — that was the price of the supper.
No one forced that cost on Him. He chose it.
If I think of what it cost the blessed God to spread this feast, who can say how vast it was?... Unasked, unsought, He Himself would spread the feast. And so that He might do it in a way worthy of Himself, He gives up His only begotten Son. His Son came down here to taste death and judgment, the whole righteous indignation of God against sin, so that God might have His way of love.
The choice of meal carries weight. Older translations call this meal a "supper."
Why is it a supper? No doubt the Lord meant here the blessed gospel. That love of God is travelling out now to sinners, pressing on them what He gives — eternal life through the Saviour's precious name. It is striking that the meal is supper — not breakfast, not dinner, but supper. Which meal is that? The last meal in the day. So I understand this to be the last dealing of God in grace towards man.
The word "many" is not filler.
The inclusion of the word "many" (verse 16) gives us a wonderful disclosure of the grace of the heart of God. It no doubt refers to the preaching of the good news recorded in Acts chapter 2 — where the whole nation hears a call to repent. We have three separate invitations in the parable, verses 17, 21 and 23.
The first group invited had something already, and that was the trouble.
"A certain man made a great supper and invited many." The cost and the labour were his; the benefit would go to many. Those first invited were people who already had something — a piece of ground, oxen, a wife. These represent the Jews with their religious leaders in the land, who first heard the message. As a whole they refused the invitation. The religious privileges they already had blinded them to the value of the gospel offer.
Luke's wording differs from another gospel account, where the host is "a king."
Each presentation fits its own gospel. "A king" suits the Messianic gospel. "A certain man" suits the way Luke presents Christ, where we see the movements of God displayed in a blessed Man.
- Great Host. The "certain man" is God. His story tests a guest's pious remark: who will really sit down?
- Great cost. The supper is great because of its price — the death of the Son of God — and God spread it unasked, at cost to Himself.
- Great gift. God gives instead of demanding. He provided everything; the guests brought nothing.
- Great reach. God invited many. He began with the nation that already had religious privilege — the very thing that blinded them to the offer.
- Last call. It is a supper, the final meal of the day: the gospel now preached is God's last dealing in grace with man.
And he sent his bondman at the hour of supper to say to those who were invited, Come, for already all things are ready.
The verse sits inside the parable of the great supper. Jesus told it after a guest spoke of eating bread in the kingdom of God. One servant carries one message: the meal is ready, so come.
The invitation had gone out long before. At "supper time" the meal is no longer a plan. It is on the table. One writer traces the shift from what God had said He would do to what He has done.
Notice how plain the words are — a man made a great supper and invited many. He prepared the supper before he sent out the invitation... It is quite true that before Christ came, faith had to do with the promise. But now Christ has come. He has died; He is risen; He is in glory. All is finished. All things are ready. The promise is fulfilled. It is no longer the promise of salvation, but salvation itself.
The message goes first to people who already had an invitation. Commentators read this first call as the preaching to Israel.
We have three separate invitations in the parable: verses 17, 21 and 23. The first would link with the Acts of the Apostles from chapter 2 to the stoning of Stephen in chapter 7, where the testimony is to the Jews. They were the ones invited first in verse 17.
They already had the invitation. So this second word does not inform them; it pleads with them. And it meets a refusal no one says out loud.
They already had an invitation. Now they are urged to come, because it was "supper time" and everything was ready. But sadly, "they all alike began to make excuses." None of them said in plain terms, "I will not come," but they were full of excuses. How like the reception that the full, free, hearty invitations of grace still meet with from many!
Luke says "his servant" — one servant. Matthew's account of a similar parable has servants, plural. Writers take the difference as deliberate.
Matthew 22:3-4 differs. Luke has "His servant," not "servants." In Matthew, people carry the gospel. In Luke the stress falls on the one "servant," who is a picture of the Holy Spirit of God. His great work is to bear witness to Christ as the fulfilment of the promise of God — Christ who has completed redemption perfectly, as the words "everything is now ready" beautifully show.
An invitation to supper leaves the guest nothing to do but come. That is the point of the picture.
If you had anything to do, you might delay. But when all is "finished," and all is "ready," only one thing is left for you: come and take in faith what love provides for your present and eternal blessing.
Another writer turns the same invitation into a direct appeal.
God in the gospel meets you in your need and guilt and danger. He asks nothing, He gives all things; and they are now ready. He provides a great supper; He invites freely. Oh, do not begin once more to excuse yourself.
One small word in the invitation settles when the blessing comes.
I must stress the word "now," for I am sure the Lord did, and what a word it is! It surely means that God will not keep men waiting for happiness until they are dead. He offers to make them happy now... It means that in turning to God, men do not turn their backs on true satisfaction. He invites them to a feast, not a fast.
The excuses that follow this call are land, oxen, a wife — ordinary, respectable things. That is what makes them dangerous.
There was no harm in buying land, in acquiring oxen, or in marrying a wife. The evil lay in pleading these things, or anything else, to set aside the call of God. The fault lies in the heart. It makes present interests, or even duties, a reason for putting God off and neglecting so great a salvation.
- Prepared — the host made the supper before he invited anyone. By supper time the promise has become the thing itself: Christ has died, risen, and is in glory.
- Sent — Matthew has servants; Luke has one servant. Commentators see him as a picture of the Holy Spirit, whose work is to bear witness that redemption is complete.
- Invited — the first call goes to those who already had an invitation: the Jews, in the early chapters of Acts. Later calls widen the circle.
- Ready — God asks nothing and gives everything; the only thing left to the guest is to come and receive.
- Now — the invitation is for this life, not for after death. The excuses that refuse it are not wicked things but ordinary ones that crowd out God.
And all began, without exception, to excuse themselves. The first said to him, I have bought land, and I must go out and see it; I pray thee hold me for excused.
The table is spread and the message goes out: everything is ready. Then every guest refuses, and not one of them pleads a sin — only land, work and family.
The words "all alike" translate an unusual Greek phrase. One writer takes it as an idiom for a shared starting point in the men's thinking.
In Luke 14:18, apo mias is idiomatic; it is said to be a phrase with "one point of view left out as understood"; if so, it is simple. Their minds started from one point and reached the same conclusion.
The three answers differ in detail. The refusal behind them does not.
Notice what is not said. Scandalous living did not shut these men out.
It does not say that their sins shut them out from the supper, for God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself. He was not counting their trespasses against them. The piece of ground, the oxen and the wife were not evil in themselves. In these men they became evil, because they set their minds on them while they slighted the supper. And is it not just the same now? What harm is there in these things, do you say? If they have taken up your heart and made you slight God, that is the harm.
Those first invited were God's own people, and they could be respectable men. That is what makes the parable reach so far.
No doubt these were the Jews — the people who had been invited. This is not a person too drunk to come, or one living in misery because of his coarse life, like the prodigal son. These might be decent, respectable men. They were absorbed in their own affairs, and had no time for the supper of grace... Is this not a true picture of the condition of man — yes, of the man who has the Bible, of the Christian world just as much as of Judea?
Land, oxen and a wife all come from God's hand. That is the sting.
These men were doing exactly what Adam did; Adam hid behind the trees, which were God's mercies to him. Here we have God's mercies again. Those invited to the supper used the very mercies God had given them to hide away from Him. The same thing is sadly true today. Men use the very mercies God Himself has given them as an excuse for refusing the gospel.
Look at the excuse on its own terms and it collapses. A field already bought is not going anywhere.
There is, moreover, glaring absurdity in the excuses given. The men who had bought property and oxen had already closed their deals. They could well have waited until the next day to see and test what they had bought. If their hearts had wanted to be there, nothing in their circumstances would have kept them from the supper.
One writer presses the word "must" in the excuse until it becomes evidence against the man who said it.
Where was the "must"? Only this: that he preferred his own gratification to accepting the Lord's invitation. It was just the same with Adam. His excuse was, "The woman whom you gave to be with me, she gave me fruit of the tree, and I ate." The very excuse he brings is the very ground on which God condemns him... So God judged him out of his own mouth!
"Please have me excused" is polite language. It is also a final answer.
They were not rude about it. Someone once offered a man a gospel tract on a Scottish express train. I heard him answer, "I call that a bit of rudeness; why can't people keep their religion to themselves?" No, these guests were not like that. They rejected the invitation with the greatest possible politeness. But they rejected it all the same, deliberately and finally.
The refusals do not end the story. Look at what the host does next.
So the servant comes and reports to his lord. The lord is angry, and says, "Go out quickly to the streets and lanes of the city, and bring in the poor and crippled and blind and lame." And the servant said, "Sir, what you commanded has been done, and still there is room." So grace keeps reaching out, despite this just displeasure. That is a distinctive and beautiful feature of this Gospel.
- All — every invited guest refuses. Three different pleas rise from one shared frame of mind.
- Alike — none of the excuses names a sin. Ground, oxen and a wife are gifts. The guests use God's own mercies to hide from Him, as Adam hid behind the trees.
- Absurd — a bought field and tested oxen could have waited a day. The excuse fails on its own logic. The real problem is a heart that has no wish to be there.
- Polite — "Please have me excused" is not open rebellion. It is courteous, deliberate and final. Good manners do not soften a refusal.
- And still there is room — the host's anger does not close the table. Grace pushes out to the streets and the highways, so that refusal costs the refuser, not the feast.
And another said, I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I go to prove them; I pray thee hold me for excused.
The man in this verse is the second of three invited guests who turn down a supper that is already prepared and free. His reason sounds fair: new oxen need testing. That is what makes the verse so searching. What keeps people from God is often not crime but ordinary business.
The parable answers a man at the table who had just spoken about eating bread in the kingdom of God. The reply is that the table is spread now, and the refusals begin at once.
One man sitting at the meal with Him said, "Blessed is everyone who will eat bread in the kingdom of God!" In reply the Lord at once assured him that the supper was ready. Grace had provided and prepared everything, and he had a free invitation to come and eat that heavenly bread… But sadly, "they all alike began to make excuses." None of them said in plain terms, "I will not come," but they were full of excuses. Many still treat the full, free, and hearty invitations of grace in just this way!
Buying working animals is honest trade. The fault is not in the buying. It is in what the man uses the purchase to do.
There was no harm in buying land, in acquiring oxen, or in marrying a wife. The evil lay in pleading these things, or anything else, to set aside the call of God. The heart is at fault, which makes present interests or even duties a reason for putting God off and neglecting so great salvation.
Strip away the courtesy and the sentence is a comparison. The man has weighed two claims on his evening and stated which one wins.
Wrong judgement is tied to wrong affection. The man in the parable said, "I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I go to examine them. Please have me excused." That was as much as to say: I prefer oxen to the supper. If a person says, I cannot see, then his eye is not single: he cannot justify himself before God.
The excuse-makers are not the wrecked and scandalous. They are busy, useful, well-thought-of people — which is why the picture reaches so far.
Not that these things were in themselves wrong; they are the ordinary duties of men. This is not a person too drunk to come. It is not someone living in misery brought on by his own coarse sins, like the prodigal son. These might be decent, respectable men. Their own affairs filled their minds, and they had no time for the supper of grace. God invited them and had prepared everything for them. But each of them was so taken up that none had heart or care for God's invitation.
The parable is not only about a first refusal of the gospel. The same test applies to any ordinary interest that takes the front place.
The piece of ground, the oxen, and the wife were not evil in themselves. In their case they became evil, because their minds were set on them and so they slighted the Supper. And is it not just the same now? What harm is there in these things, do you say? If they have occupied your heart, and made you slight God, that is the harm… This is also a test to our souls all through the day. It is not a question of whether a thing is right or wrong, but what taste our souls have for the things of Christ in it.
The parable ends with a sentence on the invited guests and an open door for others. The reason for that sentence matters.
The king at last solemnly declares of all such, "none of those men who were invited shall taste my banquet." They were not condemned, notice, for having these things or for attending to them. They were condemned because they were satisfied with them, cared nothing for the provisions of grace, and so refused the invitation to the "great supper." But grace flows on to others, even when people like this disregard it.
- Ready. Grace has prepared the supper and paid for it. The guest only has to come.
- Excused. Nobody says no outright. The refusal comes wrapped in courtesy — "Please have me excused" — and the politeness hides a flat no.
- Preferred. "I go to examine them" states a preference out loud: oxen over the supper.
- Lawful. Land, oxen and marriage are not sins. They become the harm only when they fill the heart and crowd God out.
- Replaced. Being satisfied with these things shuts the guests out — not owning them. The same grace they slighted flows on to others.
And another said, I have married a wife, and on this account I cannot come.
In the parable of the great supper, the third guest does not ask to be excused. He says his marriage makes it impossible to come. Why should a gift God Himself gave stand between a man and God's invitation?
The first two guests at least keep up appearances and ask the host to excuse them. This man drops even that courtesy. One commentator shows what that reveals about his heart.
"Another said, I have married a wife, and therefore I cannot come." He did not even say, "I pray you hold me excused." His wife was an excellent reason in his eyes for refusing God's invitation. It was a question of a family in this world, not of God hereafter. The real root of all unbelief is clear: people have no sense of sin, and they give God no glory. There is no sense of what God is, either in His claims or in His grace.
This is no attack on marriage. The danger is different. Lawful things can fill a man's sight until heavenly things vanish.
A man may be engrossed in what is perfectly lawful, and so become spiritually blind. One man's excuse was, "I have married a wife, and therefore I cannot come." Was he to ignore this relationship, which God had clearly formed for man's blessing? No. But Christ has come to bring us into heavenly blessings. Earthly blessings must not rob the soul of them, and we must not put them first. That was, and still is, what they tend to do. So the Lord says in the same chapter: "If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple."
Nobody forbade him to come. He had an obvious option, and he never took it.
Another says, "I have married a wife, and therefore I cannot come." Was that a good excuse for refusing God's supper? A right-minded man, with a sense of the grace of the one who invited him, would have gone himself and taken his wife with him. But he makes her the excuse. How easily the Lord reads the secrets of our hearts in this way! How easily the devil finds an excuse in the things of life to hinder us!
Each excuse sounds like necessity — I must go, I cannot come. One writer weighs what that necessity is worth when God is the one inviting.
Here we see the value of "I must." It means this: I prefer everything to God. I prefer my own inclination, and everything I am the centre of, to what He is the centre of.
The wife, the land, and the oxen were all real gifts God gave in earlier days. Something greater is on the table now.
You will not get a happy home life by putting natural things first and saying, I have married a wife and cannot come. The same is true of the piece of land and the five yoke of oxen. They belong, so to speak, to the twilight of God's ways with man. Adam got a wife, the patriarchs got flocks, and Israel got the piece of land. Now the blessed God sets out, through the work of His Son, what always lay near His heart... He does not leave us in the twilight. He would have us in full sunshine, enjoying the feast He has provided in a risen Christ.
These men lost the supper, but notice why. It was not what they owned. It was what they were content with.
A piece of ground, five yoke of oxen, domestic duties, meant more to them than the rich provisions of grace. These things were right and lawful in themselves. But they so filled their hearts that they slighted and neglected heavenly things, and this proved their eternal ruin... Notice that they were not condemned for having these things, or for attending to them. They were condemned because they were satisfied with them. They cared nothing for the provisions of grace, and so refused the invitation to the "great supper." Yet grace, though such men disregard it, flows on to others.
- Lawful — Nothing in this excuse is sinful. Marriage is God's own gift. The evil is using it to push His invitation aside.
- Blinding — What is lawful can still blind a person. Good earthly things crowd out heavenly ones.
- "Cannot" — He could have come and brought his wife with him. His "cannot" means "will not," and the Lord reads the heart behind the word.
- Preference — Every "I must" of this kind says the same thing: I prefer myself at the centre to God at the centre.
- Cost — They lost the supper not for owning things but for resting content in them. The grace they refused flowed on to others.
And the bondman came up and brought back word of these things to his lord. Then the master of the house, in anger, said to his bondman, Go out quickly into the streets and lanes of the city, and bring here the poor and crippled and lame and blind.
The servant comes back and reports three refusals. The man who spread the feast is angry. Yet his anger does not cancel the supper — it widens it. The invitation now goes down into the streets and lanes, to people no host would think of asking.
The master takes the refusals as a real insult. Yet the same order that shuts the door on the invited guests opens it to others.
The master's anger did mean that none of those who despised his invitation would taste his supper, as verse 24 says. But it did not close off his kindness. Instead, the servant was told to go out quickly and gather in the poor and needy — the very people a man would count least qualified.
Notice who is angry here, and who is not.
The solemn thing in this parable is that the one who is angry is the one who provided the supper, not the servant who carried the invitations. Yet the anger did not hold up the feast. God does not close the door.
The four groups are not a random list of unfortunate people. Each word names a different kind of helplessness, and together they say one thing.
The poor cannot pay, the crippled cannot work, the lame must be carried, and the blind are helpless without a guide. Not one of them is self-sufficient, they are dependent people. Every man and woman on earth belongs in this group. Some have not discovered it. Others are too proud to admit it.
The first word, poor, is not mainly about money. It describes what a person knows about himself before God.
The poor here does not mean exactly those the world calls poor. It means the poor in spirit — those who know they are poor before God, whatever their position or circumstances. Most of them, it is true, are found among the people we call poor. But thanks be to God, whose grace is sovereign, such people are found in every rank and walk of life.
The servant does not leave town. He walks the same streets and lanes where the first invitations went.
This is the urgent message of grace. The proud refuse, and God presses it on the most despised. We are still in the streets and lanes of the city. I believe the Lord still had Jerusalem in view, though He did not say so openly... The great and busy had brushed the invitation aside. The lawyers and scribes, the teachers and Pharisees, were uninterested if not hostile. From now on it was a question of tax collectors and sinners, or anyone willing to come, however miserable his state.
And the call was answered in that very city:
Blessed be God, even from Jerusalem, the city that killed the Holy One of God. From the lanes of that city the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind were brought to the great supper — three thousand in one day!
Why does refusal not end the story? Writers read the three invitations as three stages in God's dealings with people.
We accept the usual interpretation: the first invitation goes to the Jewish nation, the second to the faithful remnant among them after His own people rejected Christ, and the third to the nations outside Israel. From this we learn that the wickedness of man only made the heart of God more active. Men treated His grace with contempt. You might have expected God to withdraw from man altogether and keep His blessedness to Himself. But He did not. His heart longed to bless the people He had planned in love to redeem.
The order is not to announce a meal. It is to go, look and bring people in.
It is not enough to open a hall in a district and announce that there will be preaching. If grace is at work, it will do far more, because it knows the soul's deep needs. Go through the neighbourhood. Search the streets and the lanes. Find the people who are destitute before God, and beg them to come.
- Anger — The host is the one who is angry, not the messenger. His anger falls on those who brushed His invitation aside.
- Grace — The anger does not close the door. It sends the invitation to those a man would count least qualified.
- Poverty — The poor, crippled, lame and blind cannot pay, cannot work, cannot walk and cannot see. The one qualification is knowing you have none.
- Urgency — Refusal makes the call stronger: first come, then bring them in. Man's contempt never shrank God's kindness.
- Errand — "Go out quickly" makes the search personal. Walk the streets and lanes yourself; do not just announce a meeting.
And the bondman said, Sir, it is done as thou hast commanded, and there is still room.
In Luke 14 a man spreads a great supper and invites many guests, and every one of them turns him down. So he sends his servant to bring in the poor of the city, and the servant returns to report that he obeyed in full — and the house still has empty places.
The servant's words are not a complaint. He obeyed the whole command, and he comes back looking for more to do.
The servant shows the energy of one who has caught his Master's spirit. He can come back from his preaching mission and say, "Lord, it is done as you commanded, and yet there is room." Blessed is the servant who can give an account like that and still be as fresh for the work as ever. "Yet there is room," as if he had said, May I go out again and find some more to fill up that room? What a happy state of things it is, in any sphere of worthy service, when the servant enters into the Master's spirit.
The people already inside came from the streets and lanes of the city. Commentators read them as one group, and those the next command reaches as another.
In verse 21 the Lord turns to "the poor of the flock," those who have no yoke of oxen and are glad of the feast. The priests and chiefs of the Jews had the first invitation. They rejected it. So the Master of the house sends out into the streets and lanes of the city, to bring in the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind of the people. Still the house is not filled. Then He sends outside the city, into the highways and hedges, and compels them to come in, so that the house may be filled. These are the Gentiles.
Andrew Miller notes that they were "the right class to value kindness from others."
The empty places left over sent the search out a third time, and further than before.
The search covered the streets and the lanes of the city, and it gathered in all the despised of men: "the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind." This did not exhaust divine grace. "The servant said, Lord, it is done as you commanded, and yet there is room." So the search moved out to the highways and hedges, to bring in the wanderers and outcasts to share as well. Here we come in. We were highway and hedge folk. Do we object? As Gentiles we were completely outside.
One writer turns the phrase into a direct appeal, setting it beside an earlier scene in Luke.
The supper is ready, and the invited guests are called. Instead of coming gladly to the feast, they begin to make excuses. Then the servants are sent out again, to bring in the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. After they have been brought in we hear, "yet there is room." Luke 2 tells us there was no room for God's Son — the Saviour — in this world's inn. The Lord Jesus, grown up now and in His public ministry, tells sinners that there is room in God's house for them. If there is no room for God's Son in this world, and no room for Jesus in your heart, there is room in God's heart and God's house for you.
The invitation has an end in view: a full house. That goal shapes how believers speak to those still outside.
His heart longed to bless the people He had purposed in love to redeem. So at Pentecost in Jerusalem, by the power of the Spirit through the preaching of the gospel, He "brought in" the poor of the flock. Even this did not satisfy the full extent of His desires. From that day to this, and from this day until the coming of the Lord, He has been working and will work "to compel" poor sinners to come in. He will not rest until His house is filled — until there is not an empty place left. Many of us might do well to ask a question. Are we under the power of this compelling urgency of grace when we deal with those who are not saved?
Andrew Miller measures that house by the One who owns it: it will hold "as many precious souls as shall fill the house, which is as large as the heart of God."
- Refusal. The first guests all excused themselves, and their refusal did not shut the door — it widened it.
- Room. The servant obeyed the command in full, and the house still had empty places. Grace was not used up.
- Reach. Streets and lanes brought in the despised of Israel. The room still left sent the call out to the highways and hedges — the Gentiles, and so to us.
- Welcome. There was no room for God's Son in the inn, yet there is room in God's house for those who had none for Him.
- Result. God will not rest until the house is filled. The question left for us is whether that same urgency drives us toward those still outside.
And the lord said to the bondman, Go out into the ways and fences and compel to come in, that my house may be filled;
The invited guests have made their excuses, and the poor of the city are already inside. Places are still empty, so a third order goes out with a word that has troubled readers ever since: compel.
The three messages in the parable do not repeat each other. Each one reaches further and presses harder:
This gradation in the nature of the message — "come," "bring in," and "compel them to come in" — is most instructive.
The first two calls went to people who already stood inside a circle of privilege. This one does not, and that shift shapes how we read the word "compel":
The first two invitations went to those who stood in a privileged position... but the gospel has now gone beyond them. They refused it, and it has gone out to a people who were "strangers to the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world" (Eph. 2:12)... "And that the Gentiles might glorify God for His mercy" (Rom. 15:8-9); not for His promises but for His mercy. That is the bearing of the expression "compel them to come in."
This third call does not just reach a wider part of town. It goes off the map:
There is room for the Gentile — those outside the city, and even outside its lanes and streets, out in the highways and hedges, outside the ordered system altogether. From Acts 13 to the end of that book we see God's good news presented to such people.
In the parable there is one servant, not many. One writer makes that detail the key to the whole command:
God uses people as His servants to gather sinners to the gospel feast and to His house. But no one except the Holy Spirit Himself could fill the place of the servant in this parable. Notice that the parable speaks of only one Servant. It also explains the "compel them to come in." He compels them by making the "poor and crippled and blind and lame" feel their need and misery so strongly that they must seek relief and find it. No one can do this. It is the Holy Spirit who convicts people of sin (John 16:7-11). So the once rebellious sinner is "compelled" to seek and find the Saviour-God.
One man put the obvious objection to a preacher. The reply turns on a simple picture:
A man said to me once, "Do you mean to say that God takes men by the coat collar and forces them to come against their wills?" "No," I replied. "He compels them to come by persuasion. He makes them hungry by His Spirit. It is an easy thing to make a hungry man sit down before a well-spread table."
The house here is not a church building. It is where the feast itself takes place:
The man who spread the feast said, "that my house may be filled." Generous grace! But the house in the parable is not a parish church. It is the banquet hall above, and God wants that place filled.
A chapter earlier the Lord had spoken over Jerusalem. Put His two sentences side by side:
At the end of Luke 13 the Lord has to say of that privileged nation, "Your house is left to you desolate." How wonderful it is to read in Luke 14 the beautiful words "That My house may be filled."
God's answer to rejection was not retreat but a wider, more urgent call — and that urgency is meant to show in us:
The usual interpretation, which we fully agree with, is this: the first invitation goes to the Jewish nation as such, the second to the remnant, after His own people rejected Christ, and the third to the Gentiles. From this we learn that the wickedness of man only intensified the activity of the heart of God... From that day to this, and from this day until the coming of the Lord, He has been working and will work "to compel" poor sinners to come in. He will not rest until His house is filled — until there is not an empty place left. Many of us might ask ourselves a useful question: are we under the power of this compelling urgency of grace when we deal with those who are not saved? We should never forget that every believer is meant to be the expression of the heart of God to the world.
- Refused — The invited guests made their excuses. God did not retreat; He sent the message further out.
- Widened — "Come," then "bring in," then "compel." Each call reaches people with less claim than the last, until it reaches those outside the system altogether.
- Compelled — One Servant does the compelling. The Holy Spirit makes people feel their need until they seek relief. That is persuasion, not force.
- Filled — Israel's house was left desolate. God's house will be filled, and He will not rest while one place stands empty.
- Sent — The same urgency is meant to show in us, since every believer is to be the expression of God's heart to the world.
for I say to you, that not one of those men who were invited shall taste of my supper.
The parable of the great supper ends with a sentence on the empty chairs: the host names the men he invited first and shuts them out of his own table. Two questions follow — who are "those men," and whose act closes the door? (Older translations read "supper" where the ESV has "banquet.")
The three men who made excuses were not criminals. They were busy with a field, with oxen, with a wedding.
A piece of ground, five yoke of oxen, domestic duties, were more to them than the rich provisions of grace. These things were right and lawful in themselves. But they so filled their hearts that they slighted and neglected heavenly things, and this proved their eternal ruin. In the end the king solemnly declares of all such, "None of those men who were invited shall taste of my supper." Notice: they were not condemned for having these things, or for attending to them. They were condemned because they were satisfied with them, cared nothing for the provisions of grace, and so refused the invitation to the "great supper."
"Those men who were invited" are not the general public. They are the group who had already been given God's promises.
"For I say to you, that not one of those men who were invited" (none of those who had the promises, but trifled with them when they were accomplished) "shall taste of my supper."
Notice who is left outside, and how. One writer also sees a change of speaker: the closing "I say to you" looks past the servant to the people at the table.
The parable announces the character of what was going forward: a free invitation on God's part to share in everlasting blessing. The feast is not viewed as coming to an end. At the same time it sets out in plain language the danger of trifling with and neglecting the grace of God: "I say to you, none of those men who were invited shall taste of My supper" (v. 24). Grace excludes none. Those finally shut out only reap the fruit of their own ways. We seem to pass here from the lord of the feast to the Lord Himself. These words are addressed, it would appear, not to the servant but to the company.
The sentence is heavy because of what was refused. A kindness turned away is not a neutral act.
The rejection of the gospel. "Not one of those invited shall taste of my supper." God can least bear any contempt cast upon His grace. They would not come when the supper was on the table. So the table was cleared, and they go to bed without supper, and die in their sins. Christ you will not have, therefore Christ you shall not have. None sink so deep in hell as those who fall into it by stumbling at Christ.
The excluded guests do not cancel the feast. The host simply keeps sending, and the seats get filled from further and further out.
In verse 21 the Lord turns to "the poor of the flock," those who have no yoke of oxen and are glad of the feast... Still the house is not filled. Then He sends outside the city, into the highways and hedges, and compels them to come in, so that the house may be filled. These are the Gentiles... Then notice the lowliness of the servant and the patient grace of the Master; it goes right on to the end. He cannot rest till He gets His house filled with guests.
Writers see the sentence reaching beyond the original hearers, because the invitation itself has travelled.
The last words speak of God's rejection of those who were rejecting His grace in Israel, and of their place given to the Gentiles. Yet in principle they remain true for all who reject: they shall not taste of God's supper. The invitation is now world-wide, and wherever it goes it carries the responsibility attached to it.
That responsibility lands on you.
There was no harm in buying land, in acquiring oxen, or in marrying a wife. The evil lay in pleading these things, or anything else, to set aside the call of God. The heart is at fault, which makes present interests or even duties a reason for putting God off and neglecting so great salvation. Have you, my reader, no object or pursuit that stands between you and the knowledge of God and His Son, which is life eternal?
- Invited. The sentence falls on "those men who were invited" — those who held God's promises and trifled with them when they came true.
- Excused. Field, oxen and marriage were all lawful. The ruin lay in being satisfied with them and wanting nothing from the feast.
- Excluded. Grace shuts out no one. Those left outside reap the fruit of their own ways: Christ you will not have, therefore Christ you shall not have.
- Filled. Refusal does not empty the table. The Master keeps sending further out, and He cannot rest until His house is full.
- Extended. The invitation is now world-wide. It carries the same responsibility wherever it reaches — including to you, if something stands in your way.