Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 21A, October 1, 2017; The Rev. Pamela L. Werntz
Exodus 17:1-7 Is the Lord among us or not?
Philippians 2:1-13 If then there is any encouragement in Christ, any consolation from love, any sharing in the Spirit, any compassion and sympathy, …it is God who is at work in you”
Matthew 21:23-32 What do you think?…Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you.
O God of mercy, may we have the wisdom, the strength, and the courage to seek always and everywhere after truth – come when it may and cost what it will.
Between last week’s Gospel portion and this week’s Gospel portion, a lot has happened in the Gospel according to Matthew. Last week Jesus and his companions had left the Galilee and were drawing large crowds in the region of Judea beyond the Jordan River. After a whole lot of teaching about sincere discipleship and how to get along with one another in community, Jesus headed for Jerusalem, continuing to teach and to heal, moved with compassion, as he went.
Between last week’s and this week’s excerpts of Matthew’s story, Jesus has also continued to deal with constant infighting among his closest confidants and allies, even after all his teaching about how to live in community. He has healed not one but two blind men outside of Jericho. Then, nearing Jerusalem, he has requested a donkey and a colt for a wild ride up the steep path into the city. The crowds have waved branches and spread their cloaks on the way and shouted “God save us,” which is what hosanna means, and Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord. The people were appealing for help from the highest heaven. And Jesus has probably looked skyward for help a few times himself.
The whole city was in turmoil, Matthew says, and Jesus entered the temple, angrily overturning tables of the people operating the currency exchange and toppling the chairs of the people selling doves (the poor people’s sacrifice), accusing them of robbery. He healed people at the temple who were blind and who were lame. He accused the temple authorities of taking advantage of the most vulnerable people for their own gain, and then he headed out of the city to spend the night in Bethany (Beit Ani, which means, House of the Poor). In the morning, Jesus returned to Jerusalem. He was hungry, Matthew tells us. Seeing a fig tree with no fruit, he cursed the tree and it immediately withered and died. He headed back into the temple. And that is where we rejoin the story of his conversation with chief priests (we call chief priests “bishops”) and other leaders about from where his authority to do these things comes. So if Jesus strikes you as sounding difficult, if you find yourself thinking, “I don’t like THIS Jesus,” consider his condition. According to Matthew, he was hungry and angry and probably lonely and tired.
It doesn’t surprise me that there are complicated textual problems with this passage. This intense encounter must have been confusing because of how emotionally charged things were in the few days before Jesus’ arrest and execution. The teaching we heard about the father and his two sons seems to have gotten so garbled in the earliest transcripts of the Bible, that scholars cannot agree on what Jesus was trying to illustrate in his parable of the two sons who each said one thing and did the opposite. I can (and do) spend hours completely fascinated by the scholarly arguments about translation and rhetoric. So far, I am unable to figure out what difference scholarly arguments make here. I’m struck by the ways that we can get so caught up arguing about what things mean, pondering what parts of this story were added in later as an editorial comment, and did the editors get it right or wrong, that we don’t do the work that we are being called to do. We don’t ask that hard question, “What work are we being called to do?”
You know, there’s a famous rabbinical story about someone who asked a rabbi, “Why do rabbis always answer a question with a question? The rabbi pondered a moment and said, “so what’s wrong with a question?” There are three lines of questioning in this story (explicit and implicit) which matter most to me – which are most compelling to me. I hear these questions addressed to us, questions which might make a huge difference in how we live our lives. And in the end, that’s what matters most to Matthew. For Matthew, the Gospel is all about ethical imperatives (that’s true for the Torah too, by the way). For Matthew, being a Jesus-follower is not just a claim to be made, a statement of belief. Being a Jesus-follower is a life to be lived out, it’s work to be done.
The first line of questioning that this text addresses to us is about authority. By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority? You. You body of Christ, where do you get off? Who told you that you could be here? Who told you that you could heal? Who told you that you could teach others? Who told you that you could challenge unethical behavior? Who told you that you could protest injustice? Who told you that you could change the world?
The second line of questioning that this text addresses to us is about the summons to enter the realm of God. It’s an ongoing and present reality – not a by and by in the sky kind of heaven. How do you respond to the call to come into the realm of God? How are you responding? What change of heart is being demanded of you right now – today — because the realm of God has come near and you are being invited in? That’s what John the Baptist was teaching so powerfully that the crowds believed: that a change of heart and a change of ways was urgently needed because the realm of God is so close. Repentance is urgently needed. Turn around and walk through the gates that are wide open, anticipating our return.
And the third line of questioning that this text addresses to us is who is going into the realm of God ahead of you? (not instead of you, but ahead of you)? And when you see them going in ahead of you are you feeling scandalized and disgusted or glad and hopeful (or a little of all of those)? We are of course, both the body of Christ and the ones who are being called to repent. We are the ones who say “no” and then do the right thing. We are also the ones who say “yes” and then neglect to do the work that we have been called to do. We are the ones who can be impossibly hungry, angry, lonely and tired. We are the ones who get annoyed by people who speak prophetically and heal without the appropriate permissions and protocols. We are the ones who are outraged when our money tables get overturned. And we are the ones who can be compassionate beyond belief. We are the ones who work for justice and pray for peace, with and without permits. And I dare say, we are the sinners who are going ahead (and going behind) — directly into the heart of God. We are. Thanks be to God for paving the way and opening the gates very wide.
Between last week’s Gospel portion and this week’s Gospel portion, a lot has happened to us. I won’t recite the past week’s headlines about the city, the nation and the world – you’ve probably seen or heard them. It’s a lot of bad news. I want to give you some good news to take away with you this morning, by way of moral instruction, inspiration and encouragement.
Here’s some good news. On Tuesday evening, about two dozen people, clergy and elected lay leaders representing eleven of the thirteen Episcopal parishes in the area surrounding the Boston Harbor met in Lindsey Chapel in what is called our Deanery Assembly. Over a delicious meal, lovingly prepared by a volunteer from Emmanuel Church, this assembly that meets three times a year strengthened our relationships and deepened our understanding of the gifts and challenges of our congregations. The beautiful meeting space and the amazing food were not incidental. (One person joyfully proclaimed, “This is the first night in a week that I haven’t eaten pizza for dinner!) We all felt very well cared for. The hospitality greatly enhanced our capacity to be creative and generous as we deliberated about how to allocate a few thousand dollars to strategically support the ministry initiatives seeking funds. I want you to hear what projects were seeking support: 1) the development of a proposal to programmatically transform our cathedral steps from a place that deals death to a place that gives life; 2) funding an art installation for our Diocesan Convention in November that depicts the feminine face of God through Black, Asian, and Caucasian figures; 3) providing childcare for Latina mothers meeting at St. Mary’s in Dorchester who come together to build their capacity for community leadership; 4) supporting teen leadership development at St. Stephen’s in the South End for community organizing; and 5) supporting Emmanuel’s Boston Warm day center for people who are living without shelter. Creative, generous and strategic are not always words that I associate with church meetings at the end of a long day. We allocated the money we had and then we added more money! We all left with more energy than we had brought to the gathering.
Here’s some good news. On Thursday evening, at a concert at the TD Garden, Roger Waters, co-founder of the band Pink Floyd, addressed the thousands of people there, and cited Emmanuel’s Black Lives Matter flag and Church of the Covenant’s “immigrants and refugees welcome sign” as beacons of hope in the City of Boston.
Here’s some good news. On Friday evening, at the Kol Nidre Yom Kippur service for the Sabbath of Sabbaths, we began with a reading from the prophet Isaiah about the fast that the Holy One commands: “that you release the shackles of injustice…and undo the fetters of bondage…that you share your bread with the hungry and offer shelter to the homeless and clothing to the naked…and never hide yourself from the suffering of others. Then your light will break forth from the darkness like the dawn and your healing will be complete.” In his prophetic preaching, calling the congregation to repent, Rabbi Berman reminded us that every volunteer minute and dollar and talent…every act of kindness…every helping hand to a stranger” is an act of resistance of evil and an act of repair of the world. To that, I would add what my brother-in-law teaches, “however far out of the way you have to go, that is the way.”
Between this week and next week, a lot will happen to us. I want you to remember this from Abraham Heschel: “Prayer is meaningless unless it is subversive, unless it seeks to overthrow and to ruin the pyramids of callousness, hatred, oppression and falsehood.” People of Emmanuel, between this week and next week, I want you to remember that the gates of heaven are open very wide. So repent. Turn around and walk through them.
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