Sermon 9/25/05
"Paved with . . . Intentions" - Matthew 21:23-32
(view lectionary notes for this text)
Today, we are treated to another of Jesus’ parables from the gospel of Matthew. This time, Jesus’ teachings are directed not at the disciples, to whom he was speaking in the text we read last week, but to the chief priests and elders he happens upon in the temple. This scene in Matthew takes place quite late in the gospel – it actually happens during the events of what we call holy week, just after Jesus rode in to the city, triumphantly greeted by the crowds, and after he’d turned over the tables of the merchants in the temple. So, this scene takes place in what is becoming for Jesus an increasingly tense and dangerous situation. The religious leaders are watching him more intensely, now that he is in the holy city Jerusalem, trying to trip him up, trying to find a way to stop the momentum Jesus seems to create wherever he goes.
And so, as soon as Jesus again enters the temple, the religious folk jump on him with questions about Jesus’ teaching. Where do you get your authority, they want to know, to do these things, like teaching and preaching and healing and generally causing a ruckus the way you do? They hope Jesus will say something blasphemous and incriminating so they can finally put him away. Instead, Jesus responds with his own trick question. Well, what about John the Baptism? His baptism for repentance – where did it come from? From heaven, or human origin? The leaders see they are trapped, knowing that either answer will land them in hot water – with God, or the crowds, who perhaps they fear equally. So Jesus retorts, if you won’t answer my questions, I won’t answer yours! I hope Jesus had a smug look on his face.
He continues, and proposes a scenario to them: Two sons are asked to work in their father’s vineyard. One says no, but later changes his mind and goes anyway. The other says yes, but then never shows up. Which did his parent’s will, Jesus asks? They answer – the one who actually did as his father asked. Jesus concludes that it is the tax collectors and prostitutes who are first in line for the kingdom of heaven. Why? Because the righteous religious leaders wouldn’t be changed by John or Jesus, but the tax collectors heard and believed. You, Jesus says, even after you saw it, you did not change your minds and believe.
I had originally titled this sermon, “Paved with Good Intentions.” Isn’t that what the parable is about? Surely we can relate to the son who said he would go work in the vineyard but didn’t after all. How many times have you said you would do something, and not followed through on what you said? How many times has this happened to you? We all do it. We commit to something, say we’ll take care of it, put it on to our ‘to do’ list, and never think of it again. Or we have other things to do that simply become more important. Our intentions are good when we accept responsibility, but our follow through stinks. When we do it, we might experience some feelings of guilt at our forgetfulness, or feelings of burn-out and being overwhelmed, when we realize we’ve just taken on too much. When others fail to follow through for us, we’re frustrated and angry. But we’re probably not always surprised.
On the flip side, we can ask ourselves: How many times have we had no intention of helping out with something, but ended up getting involved anyway? I’m sure you can think of examples in your home life and in the life of St. Paul’s. Perhaps you weren’t going to be very involved with the Harvest Supper this year, and somehow ended up co-chairing it instead? Maybe you showed up to visit someone who was lonely when you really didn’t want to go. Maybe you donated money to support a need when you really had already figured that you couldn’t afford any more. How many times has someone surprised you like this, and how has it made you feel? These are welcome surprises, aren’t they? Usually the doer and the recipient of such work both feel rewarded. It is good to know that we can do more than we thought was possible, and good to know that we can give and receive so much joy from one another.
If we translate these scenarios to our relationships with God, our responses are telling. When have we made commitments to God, only to fail on the follow through? How many times have you made promises to God that for one reason or another, you have not kept? And how often do you find yourself responding to God when you had already told God “no?” Probably, we have more examples of saying yes and acting no than saying no and acting out a yes. The question I struggle with, then, is the why question. Why do we not follow through on what we say we will do, both in our human relationships and in our relationship with God? Is it really a case of good intentions gone awry, as we want to believe, or is something more at work here, some deeper issue emerging that we need to confront? Theologian Søren Kierkegaard wrote, “When you say “Yes” or promise something, you can very easily deceive yourself and others also, as if you had already done what you promised. It is easy to think that by making a promise you have at least done part of what you promised to do, as if the promise itself were something of value. Not at all! In fact, when you do not do what you promise, it is a long way back to the truth. Beware! The “Yes” of promise keeping is sleep-inducing. An honest “No” possesses much more promise. It can stimulate; repentance may not be far away. He who says “No,” becomes almost afraid of himself. But [those] who [say] “Yes, I will,” [are] all too pleased with [themselves]. The world is quite inclined – even eager – to make promises, for a promise appears very fine at the moment – it inspires! Yet for this very reason the eternal is suspicious of promises.”(1)
For Jesus, things, as usual, come back to a question of words and actions. One pastor reminds us that “Jesus doesn't divide people up into believers and atheists. Jesus divides people into those who act and those who don't act.” (2) The religious folk in the temple had a lot to say about what was right. They were careful to study the scriptures, and they spent a lot of time in the temple, and they tried to figure out, in great detail, how to apply to scriptures for daily living. Yet, they were so sure they had things right, that they became unwilling to examine their lives to see if they were living what they were teaching, practicing what they were preaching. And they were unwilling to repent, and get back to work. Their words said yes, and their lives said no, as somehow they managed to overlook real ways to love God, active ways to love neighbor.
What does this mean for us? Well, I think sometimes we even say yes to God when our intentions aren’t the best. I don’t think we set out to deceive God. But I think we end up deceiving ourselves, convinced that we are doing all the right things to be considered “Good Christians.” Somehow, we’re missing the mark, because Jesus says that it isn’t the religious folk who are first in the kingdom of heaven. It is those who are most open to turning their lives around who are first in line, those who take action when Jesus says, “follow me.” Today, you’ll notice that other than singing the hymns and responding, “Hear our Prayer,” when we’ll lift up our joys and concerns, there are no liturgies, no responsive readings, no unison prayers for us to say together today. I want us to be careful of the words we say and the promises we make. I like it when we pray together and lift our voices to God together. But today, instead of going through the motions and promising lightly with our lips that we will be changed, I want us to ask ourselves: Do we intend to be changed? Are we really going to leave here and let God mold us and shape us and make plans for us? What will our actions, our living say about us?
A parent had two children. The parent went to the first and said, “Child, go out and work for me today.” The child answered, “I will not,” but later, had a change of mind and went out and worked. The parent said to the second child and said the same, and the child answered, “Of course, I’ll go and work,” but then did not go after all. Which of these two did the will of the parent? They said, the first. And you, what do you think?
Amen.
(1) Søren Kierkegaard, “Under the Spell of Good Intentions,” http://www.bruderhof.com/articles/UnderTheSpell.htm
(2) http://www.ake.quik.co.nz/termon/djc155.html