Clothed in Christ
(Isa.25:6-10a; Phil.4:12-14; Mt.22:1-14)
In medieval Poland, Prince Casimir had it all. He lived in a castle, ate at royal banquets, and was promised a life of prestige and power.
He also wore the finest clothes, made of velvet, silk, and fur.
Then he caught tuberculosis and died, aged only 26. When his body was prepared for burial, they were surprised to find him wearing a hairshirt under his royal robes. What is a hairshirt? It’s a rough, scratchy garment made of animal hair that’s worn against the skin. It causes constant itching and discomfort.
Prince Casimir understood something that many people never learn. He knew that the beautiful clothes expected in an earthly court mean nothing in the court of the King of Kings. He simply treated his royal robes as costumes for a temporary world. His true garment was the hidden, interior fabric of humility and penance that he wore for God.
Casimir knew that God had invited him to his eternal banquet, and he wanted to make sure he was always prepared for it.
In our first reading today, the prophet Isaiah has a vision of this heavenly banquet. He describes a fabulous feast prepared by God on his holy mountain, Mount Zion. It’s a banquet of rich food, succulent meats, and choice wines, and the guest list includes everyone, including you and me. And making this event even more special, God also promises to remove the veil of suffering, death, and disgrace that covers the earth.
This heavenly banquet represents the ultimate fulfillment of all human desire, and it’s what Casimir deeply yearned for. Although he often ate at royal banquets, he knew his earthly life was only temporary. He also knew that we cannot rely on worldly comforts to satisfy our deepest hunger. Only God can do that.
This is essentially what St Paul is saying in our second reading today. Writing from prison in Rome, Paul says he has found the secret to spiritual endurance. Despite his chains and a possible death sentence, he can now face any situation with a deep sense of peace. Why? Because he has learnt that his security does not come from his wardrobe, possessions or physical comfort.
Paul’s secret is simple: ‘I can do all things through him who strengthens me,’ he says. In other words, he has ‘clothed himself in Christ’ (Rom.13:14), and Jesus now gives him the strength he needs to endure any hardship or trial.
Casimir knew this, too. He knew his strength and identity came from Jesus, not from a life of privilege. That’s why he chose to wear those hidden clothes.
In today’s Gospel, Jesus tells the story of a king who throws a huge wedding feast for his son, but the original guests refuse to come. So, he extends the invitation to everyone else, and the hall is filled. But then, the king spots a guest who is not wearing a wedding garment, and he banishes him.
This seems harsh, but in the ancient world the host always provided clean, festive clothing at the door, especially for the poor. To enter without it was insulting, because it meant that the person had consciously refused to wear it.
The wedding garment in Jesus’ parable symbolises the life we’re all meant to live. It is made from the fabric of repentance, faith, and love, and it marks the start of a new life. It’s just like the white robe we all wear at baptism, when we ‘put on Christ’ (Gal.3:27). It shows that we have been cleansed of sin and made ready to join God’s family.
But it’s not something to ignore or quickly discard. We must keep wearing this symbolic robe if we want God’s grace to keep transforming us, and preparing us for his heavenly banquet. To refuse to wear it is to want free food without respecting the host; it’s wanting the kingdom without the king.
St Francis of Assisi also did something radical with his clothing. When he decided to follow Jesus, his father was furious. He dragged Francis before the local bishop and demanded that he return every cent spent on his upbringing. Francis not only paid the money; he also stripped off his expensive clothes and gave them to his father. Standing there naked, he declared that he no longer had a father on earth, but only his Father in heaven.
Francis had cast off the garments of worldly pride, security, and ambition to be clothed purely in the grace of God.
Today, what are you wearing?
Have you cast off the rags of your old ways, like St Casimir of Poland and St Francis of Assisi?
And are you now clothed in Christ, making sure you’re ready for his eternal feast?