Proper 21A
September 27, 2020

O God of of mercy and pity, grant us the strength, the wisdom and the courage to seek always and everywhere after truth, come when it may, and cost what it will.

In today’s appointed collect, or gathering prayer, I’m struck by the idea that God declares almighty power chiefly in showing mercy and pity: mercy being forgiveness, and pity being sympathy for another’s suffering. It might not be the kind of almighty power we want, but I think it is what we need. Whenever we are invoking the mighty power of God, it behooves us to look for forgiveness and sympathy first, as evidence of God’s response. It is God’s forgiveness for our sins and sympathy for our suffering and for the suffering of others that we are running to obtain, so that we can be partakers of that treasure.

In last week’s Gospel reading we heard the parable of the workers, who labored for a variety of hours in the vineyard and yet all got the same wage. This week we have another reference to the vineyard – one son who tells his father that he will go to work in the vineyard and doesn’t do it; and one son, who tells his father that he will not go, changes his mind and goes to work. In between these two stories of the vineyard, there’s been a whole lot of conflict within the community. Matthew tells us that Jesus has taught the twelve that he’s going to be arrested and executed and raised on the third day. Mrs. Zebedee has asked Jesus for assurance that her sons will have positions of highest honor when Jesus comes into his realm. That made the other ten very angry, and I imagine James and John were annoyed with their mom, but maybe that’s just my projection.

As they continued on the road to Jerusalem, Jesus restored the sight of two blind men in the outskirts of Jericho. These two then followed Jesus into Jerusalem able to see at the end of that Holy Week what no-one with working eyes would be able to unsee. Jesus rode into the city on a donkey, went to the temple and overturned the tables of people who had permits to facilitate religious observances and drove out people who were buying heavenly doves. Jesus restored sight and mobility to some more people. 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. Then he told his followers that whatever they asked in prayer, with faith, they would receive. None of this seems advisable. I mean, why did Jesus just not pray for some figs or something else to eat? It’s clear to me that Jesus was not just hungry, but angry, lonely, and tired.

There are complicated textual problems with this passage about the father and two sons in the vineyard that make it impossible for scholars to agree on what Jesus was trying to illustrate with this parable. But what would not have been confusing to those listening to Jesus, was that the vineyard was a prophetic metaphor for the people of Israel. According to Isaiah, “the vineyard of the Lord of hosts is the house of Israel and the people of Judah are the planting of God’s delight. God looked for justice (in the vineyard) but behold, violence, for righteousness, but behold, an outcry of distress.” Even if the illustration of the two sons is subject to contentious arguments of translation and rhetorical analysis, the ethical imperative of non-violence and comfort to those who are crying out in distress of oppression is undisputed.

What matters most to the writer of the Gospel of Matthew, is the Torah imperative, the ethical imperative, of mercy and pity, of justice and truth, of repairing broken relationships. For Matthew, being a Jesus-follower is not just a claim to be made, not just a statement of belief. Being a Jesus-follower is a life to be lived out, it’s work to be done, with authority that comes from the Divine; with a summons to repent whatever separates you from right relationship with the Divine and with one another. Being a Jesus-follower means living with humility that comes from acknowledging that sometimes like the first son, we refuse to work for justice and peace, and then we change our minds and do; and sometimes we are like the second son, when we say we will work for justice and peace, but then don’t – because of shame or fear or revenge or pride.

The question of authority is an important one to Episcopalians. We shouldn’t be too hard on those chief priests, who were colluding with the Roman Empire in an attempt to keep the peace, while they held on to their opulent lifestyle. Well, maybe we should be hard on them, as long as we acknowledge the many ways that we participate in the US Empire with its legal and religious systems that disadvantage people who are poor, who are not considered “white,” or who are differently-abled, female, LGBT/Q, immigrant, or in need of healthcare or food or water or shelter. The Episcopal Church colludes with the empire with our patriarchal and white supremacist systems of language and imagery, finances, and buildings, procedures and practices. When people within the Episcopal Church act up or act out to challenge the collusion, the chief priests and the elders are quick to ask, “By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority? Who told you that you could be here? Who told you that you could heal others? Who told you that you could distribute sacraments or blessings? Who told you that you could teach that? Who told you that you could challenge unethical financial and legal behavior? Who told you that you could protest injustice? Who told you that you could change the world? And by the way, do you know what happened to Jesus and his companions when they challenged the order of the empire?” I’ve aged into being an elder in the church. I know these questions from both sides now.

I also know that embedded in this Gospel story is a summons to enter the realm of God as an ongoing and present reality – not a by and by in the sky kind of heaven. The realm of God is very near; the realm of God is at hand. How does any of us, how do we as a community, respond to the call to come into the realm of God? We respond by “disrupting anything that gets in the way of love” to quote my prophetic friend Arrington Chambliss. What change of heart is being demanded of us right now – today — because the realm of God has come near and we are being invited in? That’s what John the Baptist was teaching so powerfully that the crowds trusted but the elders failed to grasp: that a change of heart and a change of ways was urgently needed because the realm of God is so close. The word “believe” here, is more about trust than an intellectual assent to an idea. Repentance was and is still urgently needed. We are being told to turn around and walk through the gates that are wide open, anticipating our return to Oneness with God and one another.

Who is already going into the realm of God ahead of us? (not instead of us, but ahead of us?) When we see them going in, do we feel 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 piles of money 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 of some (and going behind others) — directly into the heart of God, the gates of which are very wide. It is God’s forgiveness for our sins and sympathy for our suffering and the suffering of others that we are running to obtain, so that we can be partakers of that treasure. Let’s turn around and run for it, Emmanuel Church!

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