Now and then, I come across stories with eternal significance, and it would be wrong to keep them to myself. Here is one that I wrote down from Ruthanna Metzgar:
As a professional singer, it was not unusual to be asked to sing for a wedding, but it was a bit unusual to sing for the wedding of a millionaire. I knew the wedding would be picture-perfect and was pleased to be able to participate, but when the invitation to the reception arrived, I knew it would be something exceptional. The reception was held on the top two floors of Seattle's Columbia Tower, the Northwest's tallest skyscraper, and it was even more beautiful than I imagined. Servers wore snappy black tuxedos and offered luscious hors d' oeuvres [appetizers] and exotic beverages for the most discriminating tastes. The atmosphere was one of grace and sophistication. After about an hour of merriment, the bride and groom approached a beautiful glass and brass staircase that led to the top floor. A satin ribbon draped across the bottom of the stairs was cut, and the announcement was made that the wedding feast was about to begin. The bride and groom ascended the stairs, and the guests followed. What a lavish event of which to be a part.
A gentleman with a beautifully bound book greeted us as we reached the top of the stairs. "May I have your name, please?" "I am Ruthanna Metzgar, and this is my husband, Roy Metzgar," I replied. The gentleman searched the invite book. "I'm not finding it. Would you spell it, please?" I spelled it slowly and clearly. After searching throughout the book, the gentleman looked up and said, "I'm sorry, but your name is not here. You cannot attend this banquet without your name in this book." "Oh, there must be some mistake," I replied. "I am the singer. I sang for this wedding!" The gentleman calmly answered, "It doesn't matter who you are or what you did; you cannot attend this banquet without your name in the book." As I looked around the room, I thought briefly of running to the groom and trying to plead my case, but with a hundred guests on the stairs behind us and every place at the tables assigned according to the thoughtful choices of the bride and groom, I stood silent. The gentleman with the book motioned to a waiter and said, "Show these people to the service elevator, please." We followed the waiter past beautifully decorated tables laden with shrimp, whole smoked salmon, and even gracefully carved ice sculptures. And adjacent to the banquet area was an orchestra, its members dressed in dazzling white tuxedos, preparing to fill the room with glorious music.
We were led to the service elevator, stepped in, and the waiter himself pushed "G" for the garage. My husband, thoughtfully, did not say a word, nor did I. As Roy drove out of the Columbia Tower garage, we remained silent. After driving several miles in silence, Roy reached over and gently put his hand on my arm. "Sweetheart, what happened?" And then I remembered: "When the invitation arrived for the reception, I was very busy, and I never bothered to return the RSVP. Besides, I was the singer; surely I could go to the reception without returning the RSVP!"
As we drove on, I began to weep. I was not crying because I had just missed the most lavish banquet of my life, but I was weeping because suddenly I knew what it would be like someday for people as they stood before the entrance of Heaven: People who were too busy to respond to Christ's invitation to His heavenly banquet. People who have assumed that the good things they had done, even perfect church attendance or singing in the choir, would be enough to gain entry to Heaven. People who will look for their name in the Lamb's Book of Life and not find it there. People who did not have time to respond to Christ's gracious invitation to have their sins forgiven and accept Him into their hearts. And then I wept again because I was so grateful that I had received Christ many years earlier as my personal Savior and can be confident that my name is written in the most important book of all: The Lamb's Book of Life. Is Yours?"
And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and books were opened. Another book was opened, which is the book of life. The dead were judged according to what they had done as recorded in the books (Revelation 20:12).
Taken from the series on the Parables of Jesus. This one is the study The Parable of the Wedding Feast.
(Copyright Ruthanna Metzgar, excerpted in Heaven, by Randy Alcorn.)