The Power of an Invitation
In 1995, Al Detter took me to a restaurant. We sat across from each other, made small talk, and then he issued an invitation. “The job is yours if you want it. I’m inviting you to come onto our staff and be a pastor at Grace Church.”
That one invitation changed my life. It changed my family’s life. And through the ripple effects of the years that followed, it changed a lot of other lives too. All from one invitation across a table.
Here’s another one. In 9th grade, my math teacher “invited” me to switch tables. I was talking too much in class and she’d had enough. So she moved me to a table with the most serious, studious kid in the class. A really cute girl named Kim.
That day, while we were working on math packets, a magnitude 5 earthquake hit. The earth literally shook the day we met. Kim and I just celebrated 34 years of marriage. Our incredible life together, our kids, our home. It all traces back to an invitation I didn’t even ask for.
Have you ever had an invitation that changed your life? Maybe someone invited you to be their husband or wife. Maybe it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity you almost didn’t take. Maybe it was a job offer that set you on a completely different trajectory.
And if you’re a follower of Jesus today, there was probably someone who invited you into that. I want you to think about that person for a moment. Call their face to mind. Maybe it was a parent. A pastor. A friend or coworker. Someone, somewhere, extended you an invitation that changed everything.
Here’s the idea I want to sit with today: An invitation is the foundation of transformation.
If you want to be a transformational force in the lives of the people around you, one of the most important things you can offer them is an invitation. An invitation to Jesus. And sometimes, as a starting place, an invitation to church.
A Parable About a Party
In Luke 14, Jesus tells a story about a man who throws a great banquet. He sends out invitations well in advance. People RSVP. And then, when the feast is ready and the servants go out to gather the guests, something shocking happens.
They all cancel.
One guy says he just bought a field and needs to go look at it. Another bought some oxen and wants to examine them. Another just got married and can’t make it. Jesus is a master storyteller, and he uses the absurdity of the excuses to make a point. Who buys property without seeing it first? And if you’ve already bought it, what’s the rush? It’s not going anywhere. The newlywed’s excuse is even weaker. Like his wife wouldn’t want to go to a fancy party with great food?
None of these reasons are evil. No one says, “Sorry, I’ve got to go commit a felony.” They’re just… lame. Ordinary priorities that feel reasonable until you weigh them against the importance of the invitation. That’s the point. People reject the kingdom for underwhelming reasons. They don’t realize what they’re turning down.
So, what does the master do? He doesn’t cancel the banquet. He sends his servants out again. This time to the streets and alleys. Bring in the poor, the blind, the lame, the people who would never expect an invitation like this.
And when there’s still room? He sends them even further. Out to the highways and hedges. The places beyond the city walls where the real outcasts lived. The people no respectable person would associate with.
This is the scandalous heart of the gospel. The doors have been thrown wide open. Everyone is invited to the party.
Everyone Is Invited
The religious leaders listening to Jesus had their mental checklist of who was in and who was out. We have ours too, if we’re honest. But Jesus blows up the checklist. Young and old. Rich and poor. Every background, every story, every past.
This should give us hope for the people we’ve written off. The ones we think are too far gone. The “impossible” friends. Some of you reading this are those impossible people. You think there’s no way God could want you at His table. But He does. The invitation stands.
Jesus Wants Filled Seats and Full Lives
At the end of the parable, the master says something striking: “…that my house may be filled.”
Let me ask a simple question: what are chairs for? It’s not a trick question. A chair fulfills its purpose when someone’s sitting in it. In the master’s mind, an empty chair at his table represents a missed opportunity. And it does for us too.
Every weekend at churches around the world, there’s a kind of banquet happening. A banquet of God’s Word. Of worship. Of His presence. Of grace and hope. And scattered throughout each room are empty chairs. They’re not just empty space. They represent missed opportunities. People who aren’t there yet. A student who needs friendship in a lonely season. A couple whose marriage is hanging by a thread. Someone you love who’s been drifting from God for years.
You and I can do something about an empty chair. A simple invitation can turn an empty chair into a full life.
An Honest Confession
I had a scary realization recently. I’ve realized that I could probably live out the rest of my life and never have another meaningful relationship with someone who doesn’t know Jesus. I’m at a place where I could completely bubble myself off. And here’s the uncomfortable part: most of the people in my church would never know it. Some might even prefer it, because it would mean I could spend more time with people inside the church.
I could surround myself with Christians at work, at home, in every corner of my life. I could quietly retire from the outreach part of my faith, and it wouldn’t change my daily routine or my public image one bit.
But it would also mean that I would stand before God one day and hear, “You had a big church, but you had the wrong focus. You had lots of relationships, but you never made room for the people who didn’t know Me yet. When did you stop inviting them to my presence?”
That’s a haunting thought.
Jesus said this business of inviting others is an urgent priority. Not a nice idea. Not an optional add-on for the extroverts. Urgent. For ALL of us.
The Gravitational Pull
Here’s what I’ve noticed in myself and in a lot of Christians and Christian leaders that I talk to: the gravitational pull is inward. The longer you’re part of a church, the more your relationships consolidate around people who are already in. Your calendar fills up. Your social circles shrink. And before you know it, you don’t really know anyone anymore who’s outside the faith. Which means we have to be very intentional if we want to keep the door open for invitation.
One Face in the Crowd
I want to ask you to do something. Ask God to bring one face to your mind. Not a category of people. One person. Someone in your life who doesn’t know Jesus yet. Maybe someone who’s been through a hard season. Maybe someone who’s been on your heart, but you haven’t known what to say.
Will you pray for them by name this week? Will you make yourself available? Will you look for the moment to extend an invitation?
Because an invitation is the foundation of transformation. Their life might change because you had the courage to ask.
What Happens in Church Seats
I remember sitting in a church chair as a kid while children’s ministry leaders showed me God’s love through the stories of Abraham, Esther, David, and Jesus.
I was sitting in a chair when I decided to go public with my faith, stood up, walked down the aisle, and was baptized.
I’ve sat alone in empty auditoriums before our church held its first services in those new spaces, praying that God would fill the seats. I didn’t know the people I was praying for yet. But I was praying for them before they ever came. And thousands of lives have been changed since.
Powerful things happen in church seats.
So let me leave you with this: Everyone is invited to God’s party. Jesus wants filled seats and full lives. And inviting others is an urgent priority for all of us.
Never underestimate the power of an invitation.
Your Next Step:
Ask God to bring one person to mind. Pray for them by name. And when the moment comes, extend the invitation. It might be to church. It might be to a Christmas service. It might be to coffee where you share your story. It might be to dinner at your dining room table. But don’t let the moment pass. An invitation is the foundation of transformation. And their life might never be the same because you had the courage to ask.
