When I was a college student, I had a work-study job on campus that helped pay for my tuition, room and board. Each semester, I was moved around to various offices and departments, depending where there were needs that a student intern could fulfill. Some jobs weren’t so fun or interesting, for instance, washing and restocking hundreds of blankets used in a summer program. But some jobs were interesting, engaging, and felt meaningful.

One summer, the director of the office of residence life, who, curiously enough, had the surname “Love,” asked me to take on one of these assignments. Dr. Love knew that I was an honors student and a Resident Advisor, so perhaps he thought I was more capable and responsible than I really was as a 19-year-old. It turned out that the request involved research, contacting other universities about their residential living and learning programs, compiling and analysing these programs, and then making an informed proposal for what we might create at our institution.
When I look back on that assignment, I’m really disappointed in my former self. I was lazy. I procrastinated. I did a half-hearted, and thus, poor job at each step of the project, and by the end, I submitted a rushed and superficial proposal.
Dr. Love was not pleased. He saw potential in me, and expected me to rise to the occasion, meeting this “stretch assignment” with enthusiasm, diligence, and a commitment to excellence. He took a chance on me, providing time and resources, with the expectation that I would live up to my potential, and fulfill the assignment. And I had squandered that gracious good will.
To this day, that lesson remains with me.
So, what does this have to do with this somewhat disconcerting parable that Jesus offers about the King, the wedding feast for his son, and the unfortunate case of the wedding guest? And what instruction might we take from this parable as leaders?
First, we know that this parable is one of a series of cautionary tales that Jesus uses to try to convert the religious authorities of his time to see the error of their ways, and to call them back to a fidelity to his Father. He wants them to see that their relationship to the Law and to the codes of purity separating them from the poor, “the unclean,” and the stranger, had become a self-serving obsession that distanced them from God’s will. The Law had ironically become an idol, a source of self-righteous pride and exclusion of others.
Unfortunately, we know that these cautionary tales don’t succeed in changing the minds of his audience, and in fact, they become more determined in their resistance, with fatal consequences for Jesus. But let’s return to the parable itself.
I don’t know about you, but I find the image of the King in this story a bit challenging. On one hand he is gracious, generous, and expansive in his invitation for this wedding feast. He is also relentless in pursuing his goal, and does not hesitate to punish those who mistreat his servants with rather severe justice. And what do we make of what happens to the hapless guest who shows up improperly attired, neglecting to respond with the same graciousness that has been offered so generously to him? If the King is the Father, isn’t his love infinite and unconditional? Why doesn’t he treat this guest more gently?
This parable comes towards the end of Matthew’s Gospel, and so we understand that the prophetic ministry of Jesus is nearing its most dramatic climax. The tension between him and the religious and political authorities is intensifying, and Jesus is using language and scenarios in these parables to suggest that even the Father’s patience has limits. He suggests here that no matter how loving the King is, there will be consequences for the choices made by his subjects. There will be accountability.
In the recollection I shared from my college experience with Dr. Love, and the way I neglected to respect his gracious trust, and the resources he provided for me to accomplish my assignment, I know that the parallel isn’t exact. Despite his last name, I know that Dr. Love wasn’t God, whose mercy and love are entirely unconditional, such that God loves us entirely as we are at this very moment, including our faults and failings.
Most of us are not conditioned to accept unconditional love. But that topic is for another reflection. The point here is that even though God loves us entirely as we are, and invites us to the rich wedding feast without meriting our attendance on the basis of any grace, accomplishment, or perfection of our own, it shouldn’t be surprising that such a gracious invitation calls for a proper response from us. Imagine someone gives us a priceless gift, no strings attached, but simply as an expression of their love for us. What would we do? What is a worthy, loving, and generous way to respond to the gift of this invitation?
Essentially, our human dignity and maturity as children of God are expressed by the way we respond to God’s goodness to us, by our accountability with the love and mercy entrusted to us. God doesn’t ask us to simply clothe ourselves appropriately, but rather to extend this same mercy and generous love to others, especially those who do not merit it themselves.
What about the importance of both graciousness and accountability in management and leadership? Briefly, a good leader fosters the maturity, personal flourishing, and the performance of their employees, team or community members by being both generous in their trust and having clear expectations, by providing individual consideration and ensuring care for the whole organization and its mission, by making it safe to fail and at the same time requiring learning and improvement. Just as the King is gracious, the King looks for accountability.
I learned an important lesson from my youthful experience, and ever since have worked to be worthy of the trust, the graciousness, and the love I’ve been given. I know I can’t really merit these because in so many ways, they are gifts. And true gifts are not given with reciprocity in mind. How do we adequately take stock of the many gifts that God freely gives us, most of all, the invitation to receive God’s love as his children through the life of the Son? How do we express our accountability for this gracious offering by extending this same graciousness to others, including those who haven’t merited it first?
With you on the road,

