Are We There Yet?

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

December 3, 2107

1 Advent B

When I was a child, Thanksgiving began the season perhaps most accurately called "Are we there yet?"  The season of "Are we there yet?" was not Advent, since we had never heard of Advent, and yet had some things in common with the holy season we begin today.  The season of "Are we there yet" was certainly a season of preparation.  Preparation for Christmas at our house began in earnest on the day after Thanksgiving and for my brother, sister, and I, mostly involved making lists of all the things we wanted for Christmas.  There was some decorating involved and a lot of cooking and cleaning as we prepared for relatives and friends to arrive.  This is where I learned that real preparation for Christmas involves butter, pure vanilla, and good chocolate.

Secondly, the season of "Are we there yet?" was a season of anticipation.  In the case of "Are we there yet,” our anticipation began as soon as the Thanksgiving turkey was cold and usually peaked with a meltdown or two by December 1.  We would have done anything to make Christmas come right this minute.  The season of "Are we there yet" was a season of restless counting of days-my mother savoring every day we were still in school before the holidays and we children counting the days until we were out of school and could spend all our time anticipating Christmas.

          Finally, the season of "Are we there yet?" became a season of patience.  After an early meltdown or two, we children figured out how to wait.  Some things in life just cannot be forced to come more quickly and we could be miserable for the remaining three weeks until Christmas or we could try to be patient.  Miserable got old fast and did not make the time pass any more quickly.  So, we figured out better things to do with our time.

          As we begin the season of Advent today, we are called to a season of anticipation, preparation, and patience even if those activities look somewhat different in Advent than in the season of "Are we there yet?"  But whatever our practice of Advent might be, however we might understand anticipation, preparation, and patience to get us ready for the birth of the Christ child, we probably came to church this morning expecting to hear something a little more Christmassy from Scripture.  This morning we hear nothing about a baby, nothing about angels or shepherds or even prophecy about the birth of the messiah.  What we get instead is a lament from the Hebrew people calling God to come down here right now and do something, words of encouragement from Paul about the last times, and a grim description of Jesus' return.  How on earth are these readings supposed to help us begin our Advent journey?

          What our readings have to do with Advent is that they all call us to God's version of anticipation, preparation, and patience.  In the reading from Isaiah, the people have returned to the Promised Land from their exile in Babylon. Rather than finding a land of milk and honey waiting for them, they found a land that was uninhabitable and a people who were devastated.  The people know their complicity in their problems.  They admit that they have sinned and made God angry.  But they also know that they are nothing but damp clay without God.  The people are anticipating God’s action because they remember that God has acted on their behalf in the past.  In a world where genocide, gun violence, scandals, and natural and human made disasters seem rampant, I can easily make the same lament to God.  Get down here and do something!  Now!  And I am reminded of the prophetic voices that call us to prepare for the action of God by living as the people God created us to be-not acting as damp, unformed clay in the face of injustice but being the vessels God created us to be.  Scripture calls us to anticipate God’s action by living as the people God calls us to be, now.

Paul, unlike Isaiah or Jesus, tells the people that they are prepared for Jesus’ return-that the grace of God given to them in Christ Jesus has given them the strength and the spiritual gifts they need to be ready when Jesus returns. Paul lives in deep anticipation of the day when Jesus returns and he encourages the Christians in Corinth to do likewise.  If we live like Jesus will return any moment, faithfully rather than passively, then our lives will make the world look a little more like the world Jesus came to redeem.

 Just as the Hebrew people were experiencing fearsome times in the reading from Isaiah, the faithful to whom Mark was written were also experiencing fearsome times.  Jesus' followers were being handed over to councils.  Families were divided.  People were being put to death.  God  needed to come down and do something. Now.  On the one hand, Jesus’ words this morning seem to tell us that when things finally get bad enough, Jesus will return.  But on the other hand, Jesus’ words also promise that, in the midst of suffering, Jesus is near.  The people can anticipate a time when there will be no more terror and trials, when God will act and Jesus will gather them up.  But Jesus also calls them to prepare for that time by watching for the ways in which Jesus is near now.   

          Are we there yet?  The answer is yes, and no.  The promise of Advent and the promise of Scripture is that God will act, both now and in the future.    God calls us to anticipate God's action by longing for that action so deeply that we will do anything to make that action a reality.  God calls us to prepare with such deliberation that God's presence is real to those around us. Now.  And God calls us to be patient, but not passive.  God will act in God's good time, but in the meantime, God acts through us.  We are not formless lumps of damp clay, but the vessels of justice and peace God created us to be. Advent calls us to keep alert and be part of what God is doing in our midst now, so we and the world around us will recognize God’s action in the future.

                                                                   Amen.

Distractions

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

November 12, 2017

27 Proper A

          Caldwell, Don’s and my younger son, is getting married on Saturday so the past year has been filled with talk of the bride and groom, bridesmaids and groomsmen.  There have been dress fittings, tuxedo rentals, hotel reservations, the selection of wedding and reception venues, food and wine tastings, invitation lists, and on and on.  I am quite sure that the preparation for a wedding can take exactly as long as one has, so this one has taken exactly 13 months.  I trust, and keep telling the bride, that all of the preparations will pay off.  Their big day will come and all of the details will have been tended to.  Nothing will distract them as family and friends arrive from all over the country to help celebrate their marriage and their new life together. 

          A new life together is really what all the wedding preparations are about, after all.  Whether simple, elaborate, or somewhere in between, all of the attention to detail ultimately creates an experience that points to the love two people have for each other, and their commitment to build a new life together.  In the case of Christian marriage, the commitment is also to make the world a better place together and to be a sign of God’s love for the world.

          So, I already had weddings on the mind when I read the parable of the wise and foolish bridesmaids this week.  I have all kinds of problems with this parable.  For starters, didn’t Jesus say, just a few chapters back, “Take no bag for the journey, or extra shirt, or sandals or a staff?”  Wouldn’t extra oil also go on this list?  Perhaps the bridesmaids who took no oil with them trusted that the bridegroom would show up on time and were trying to travel light, like Jesus instructed.  And what about the so-called wise bridesmaids who would not share what they had with those without enough oil?   Are they to be commended for their selfish behavior?  I recall a story that occurs 6 times in the four gospels where a few fish and loaves were turned into food for a great crowd of people. There is also the story in 1^st and 2^nd Maccabees where one day’s worth of oil lasted for 8 days.  So, wouldn’t there be reason to believe that if the 5 bridesmaids with oil shared, there would be enough for all?  All of these parables or stories are about abundance and this morning’s parable seems to be about scarcity.  Then, of course there is the rude behavior of the bridegroom who shut out those who arrived late, and the admonition to keep awake, as if all 10 bridesmaids had not been asleep when the bridegroom was announced.

          So, what on earth is this parable trying to tell us?  What is the real difference between the wise and the foolish bridesmaids?

          A pressing concern for the church in the mid to late first century was the delay in Jesus’ return.  The early Christians expected Jesus to return immediately as he seemed to have promised.  In the reading from 1 Thessalonians, the oldest writing in the New Testament, the Christians are deeply concerned about what will happen to those who die before Jesus’ return.  Will they, too, be among those who are gathered up by Jesus or will they have missed the boat?  Paul’s answer is that the faithful who have died will be raised when Jesus returns.  When Matthew was written some 30 or 40 years later, the waiting was growing old and Christians were getting complacent.  The urgency to watch and wait for Jesus was dying.  On the one hand, Matthew writes to encourage the weary Christians that Jesus really will come.  On the other hand, Matthew’s encouragement is wrapped in a package that is a bit hard to swallow, as Jesus will reject those who are not ready.

          So here we are two millennia later and Jesus has still not returned. What are we to do with this parable in 2017?  The message to keep awake and maintain constant vigilance wears thin 2000 years later.   But the real question that the parable addresses is how to live in the time between Jesus’ resurrection and ascension, and Jesus’ return.   The answer for the first century Christians was to keep awake, because Jesus would return any day now.  I think our question as 21^st century Christians is the same, although the answer might be different.  How are we to live in the post-resurrection, pre-return world?

I wonder what would have happened if the bridesmaids without oil for their lamps had stayed rather than leaving to go off in search of oil.  Suppose the five had trusted that oil would be provided, or that the oil would not be needed, or that the other five would be convinced to share.  Had all 10 bridesmaids trusted in God’s abundance and the 5 without oil had stayed, all 10 would have been present when the bridegroom arrived, and might well have been admitted to the wedding banquet before the doors closed.

          Who knows why Jesus’ return has been delayed?  I certainly do not.  But what I do know is that our baptismal covenant calls us to seek and serve Christ in all people now.  We are called to keep ourselves from being distracted by scarcity and running off after whatever we think we need because that distraction keeps us from recognizing Christ’s presence in our midst here and now.  We are called to treat all people as honored guests at the wedding banquet that celebrates the new life God provides for all of us, the hope for the future, and God’s love poured out for all.  The world is starving for that banquet.  Perhaps staying focused on the work of seeking and serving Christ in all people is our way of keeping awake with our lamps full of oil so we are ready whenever and however Christ arrives.  For all that I do not know, I am convinced that if we cannot recognize and serve Jesus in our fellow humans now, we will never be ready to recognize Jesus in the fullness of time when he does return.

                                                                             Amen.

Children

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

November 5, 2017

All Saints 2017

          Some years ago, the Episcopal Diocese of Southern Ohio and the Liberian Episcopal Church were looking to establish a companion relationship.  My husband Don was chosen as part of a 5 person team to travel to Liberia for two weeks to build relationships and see what gospel work two very different dioceses might do together.

          The story of the trip is Don’s story to tell, not mine.  But one of the things he did while he was in Liberia was take many, many photos of the children he met.   He has photos of individual children, and photos of groups of children.   Once the photos were taken, the children loved looking at their faces on the back of Don’s camera.  These children had never seen their image because all mirrors and glass were destroyed in the decades of civil war in Liberia.  They had never seen themselves!

          Once Don got home and downloaded his photos so I could look at them, what I saw astounded me.  These children live in abject poverty.  They go to school in buildings and live in homes that we would consider uninhabitable.  Dirt floors, windows with no glass, and doorways with no doors are the norm.  Their toys are sticks, rocks, and whatever else they find to play with.  Shoes are rare.  And yet, in photo after photo, the children are happy.  I don’t mean “smile for the camera” happy, but deep down joyful happy.  Their smiles are huge, and their faces are bright.  The photos of these children are stunningly joyful.

          On this All Saints Sunday, we hear Jesus say “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth,” and “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.”  Jesus says “Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called children of God.”  The Greek word that is translated “Blessed” can also be translate “Happy.”  The word does not mean “smile for the camera” happy.  The happiness meant by the Greek word “makarioi” is a deep down, rooted, lasting happiness that is not circumstantial. 

          In the beatitudes, whether we translate the word as blessed or happy, Jesus is not telling us that we should be meek so we can inherit the earth, or that we should be merciful, even though we should, so that we will receive mercy.  Jesus is describing the kingdom of heaven.  Our world tells us things like "Blessed are those who have resources for they will have more," or "Blessed are the educated, for they will get ahead," or "Blessed are those who have health care, for they will live longer," all of which are true.  Education, resources, and health care are all good things and the beatitudes do not glorify poverty, illiteracy, or poor health.  But Jesus is describing a different reality, similar to the one we heard about in the reading from Revelation. "For they will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat; for the lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd and will guide them to the springs of the water of life."  In this new reality, which is the Kingdom of God, the poor in spirit, the meek, those who mourn, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness will be satisfied.  Because they will be blessed in God's new reality, they are blessed now.

          Every year we hear the beatitudes on All Saints Sunday.  Why is that? When I think about the children Don met in Liberia and their deep down happiness that is clearly not based on anything material, I am also reminded of our reading from 1 John.  “See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God; and that is what we are.” And “Beloved, we are God's children now; what we will be has not yet been revealed.”  On All Saints, we remember those who have gone before us, both the named saints of the church and the saints of our own hearts.  I believe we remember those people because, in some way large or small, they have demonstrated for us the love God has for all God’s children.  They remind us that we are loved unconditionally simply for who we are.  I think of my grandparents, my mother, and dear friends who have died, none of whom tolerated poor manners or bad behavior, but all of whom who loved me unconditionally.  Their love is how I know the love of God.  The children in Liberia teach us this as well.  Their great happiness, their great joy, comes from knowing they are loved because love is all they have. 

          But there is more to All Saint than the joy that comes from knowing that we are God’s beloved children because of the love we have experienced from those who have gone before us.  All Saints calls us to be that love for others, and not just each other.  All Saints calls us to touch the lives of all those we encounter with the love of God.  At Christ Church, we practice how to be that love for each other so that we can be that love for the world.  How do people know that they are beloved of God if we do not show them with our lives? 

          On All Saints Sunday, we sing the great hymns, we light the candles, and we pray with and for those who have gone before us.  But our music, candles and prayers are not an end in themselves.  All Saints Day sends us out into the world to radiate the love of God with our lives so that people in Hudson and everywhere we go can know the same happiness, the same blessedness, as the children Don met in Liberia.

                                                                                   Amen.

                                                          

Image

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

October 22, 2017

24 Proper A

          A few weeks ago, I was at Midway airport in Chicago with an hour or so before my plane boarded to come home.  Airports are one of the finest places on earth for people watching.  I’m not much for sitting still in an airport, so I tend to walk the various concourses.  While the vendors are probably hoping that people like me are window shopping and will come in and purchase something, what I’m really doing is observing my fellow travelers.  In a busy airport, the vast diversity of the human family is on display as people from a huge variety of religions, ethnicities, languages and ages work to get from one part of the airport to another.  The part of people watching that I especially love is the connection my brain makes between people I know and the total strangers in the airport.   In a total stranger, I will see the image of someone at home, or a friend from a distant time in my life, or a relative I miss.  Sometimes the image is so clear that I am startled.  Other times, when I look back, I can’t imagine what made me think of my friend or relative.  A little time wandering the corridors of Midway airport is a good reminder that we humans are all connected.

          Jesus is talking about these kinds of images in this morning’s gospel lesson. The Herodians and the Pharisees are once again trying to trap Jesus. So, they ask Jesus “Is lawful to pay taxes to the Emperor, or not?” Surely this time, Jesus is trapped. If Jesus says "no, it is not lawful," then the Romans can try him on charges of treason.  If Jesus says "yes, it is lawful," he will have betrayed the Jews, his own people, because the Jews believed that paying taxes to Rome was to endorse the foreign occupation of Israel.  Jesus is once again in what seems to be a no-win situation.

But Jesus cannot be tricked by the Herodians and the Pharisees. Jesus asks for a coin and says “Whose head is this, and whose title?”  The answer, of course, is that the emperor’s image is on the coin. So Jesus says "Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s." When the people heard this, they were amazed, and they left him and went away.

Now, I don’t know about you, but if I had been there that day, I might have left amazed, but I would also have left confused. The issue is far from settled by Jesus’ answer. How do we know exactly which things belong to the emperor and exactly which things belong to God? What, exactly, are we to give to each? Rather than providing us the direct and clear information we want, Jesus leaves us with more questions than answers.

Whose image is on the coin? The image of the emperor is on the coin, so the coin belongs to the realm of the state and can be used for the purposes of the state. Simple enough. But what about the things that are God’s? How do we know what they are?

As the Pharisees and Herodians well knew, in the first chapter of the book of Genesis, we are told exactly whose image we carry. "So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them." (Gen. 1:27) What bears the image of God and belongs to God is nothing other than humankind. We are made in the image of God and we have the image of God woven into every fiber of our being and imprinted on our souls.   

Jesus is not giving out tax advice this morning when he tells the Pharisees and Herodians to give to the emperor what is the emperor’s and to give to God what is God’s. When it comes to the issue of what we are to do with our money, Jesus is calling us to remember in whose image we are made and to whom we belong. Then Jesus calls us to remember in whose image every human being is made and to treat every human being with the dignity and concern due the image of God. In a few weeks, on Christ the King Sunday, we will hear Jesus say "When I was hungry, you gave me food. When I was thirsty, you gave me something to drink. When I was a stranger, you welcomed me. When I was naked, you gave me clothing, When I was sick, you took care of me. When I was in prison, you visited me." Jesus, the Son of God, reminds us that when we care for another human being, we care for the image of God that dwells within that person, and when we turn our back on that person, we turn our back on God. Jesus’ primary concern is not about the lawfulness of paying taxes, but with how we use who we are and what we have to care for the image of God that dwells in all people.

In the reading from Exodus this morning, Moses needs reassurance from God that God is with him in the journey through the wilderness and to the Promised Land. Moses asks God for three things: for God to show Moses God’s ways, for God’s presence to go with the people, and for God to show Moses God’s glory. God agrees to all of those requests, but then God says, "You cannot see my face; for no one shall see me and live." Throughout the Hebrew scriptures, the presence of God is known, the glory of God is revealed, and God is gracious and merciful. But the tradition of the Hebrew scriptures is the face of God cannot be seen. Perhaps we are not to look at the face of God directly because the place where human beings are to find the face or the image of God is on each other.

                                                          Amen.

Clothes

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

October 15, 2017

23 Proper A

          My friend Rachel had four daughters: Megan, Kathryn, Chelsea, and Greta.  The family tradition was that when one of the daughters became engaged, all four sisters, Rachel and Rachel’s mother went off together to shop for the dress.  Not only do they all go shopping together, they all had to agree on the dress!  This sounds like a recipe for disaster to me.  First of all, I am a strictly functional shopper.  For me, shopping is a necessary evil, best done online, and not an event or a group activity.  Secondly, I’ve known the four daughters either since they were little girls or since before they were born.  They are very different and have very different tastes.  The idea that they would agree on a wedding dress is hard to fathom.  But they do!  They know each other so well that they can put aside their own likes and dislikes and help look for the perfect dress for the sister getting married.   For Rachel, her mother, and her four daughters, shopping for a wedding dress was about more than the search for an item of clothing.  The shopping event was a way of entering fully into the joy, the anticipation and excitement of the upcoming marriage, of welcoming this new step in their sister’s life. 

          This morning, just when we think Jesus’ bizarre parable of the wedding banquet is going to end happily ever after, the king realizes that one of his guests is not wearing a wedding robe.  "Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?" The poor guy is speechless.  Remember that the king had sent his servants out twice to gather the invited guests to the wedding banquet, and they had refused to come in no uncertain terms.  After registering his displeasure with the invited guests in an equally clear manner, the servants are sent to gather up people off the streets to fill the banquet hall.  Everyone at the party had put down whatever they were doing, and come to the wedding feast at the summons of the king.  Our under dressed guest had probably been coming home from work or was out running errands, and was dressed accordingly.  He is speechless at the accusation that he is under dressed since his day had not included a wedding banquet when he left home that morning.  He was doing the king a favor by helping to fill the banquet hall.  Most likely he did not even know the king’s son!  In what seems like a most unfair turn of events, the king, who we already know to have a bit of a problem with his temper, says to his attendants "Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth.'  So much for happily ever after!

 Moses has to deal with a different sort of party.  When Moses is delayed on the mountain with God, the people think Moses has disappeared forever and they need a new plan.  The new plan is to take all the golden rings that are on the ears of the people and make a golden calf that the people can worship.  Once the calf has been completed, Aaron calls a festival for the Lord and the people spend a whole day offering burnt offerings and sacrifices of well-being to the calf.  Then the people sat down to eat and drink, and rose up to revel in their own creation.  The people wanted all the benefits of being God’s chosen people, but did not want to trust God and actually live as God’s people. 

God is livid.  God tells Moses to leave him alone so God’s wrath may burn hot against the people and God can destroy them.  God sounds a lot like the king in the parable when the king sends the troops to destroy the murders and burn down their city, or when the king throws the under dressed guest into outer darkness where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth.

In the case of the story of the golden calf, however, Moses is able to talk God down.  Moses reminds God of what the Egyptians will say if God destroys the Hebrew people after delivering them from slavery.  Moses also reminds God of God’s promise to Abraham, which will be broken if God

destroys the people.  So God’s mind is changed and the people are spared.

The king’s wrath is understandable when the guests refuse to come to the banquet.  God’s fury is understandable when the Hebrew people worship the golden calf.  But what about the king’s fury at the underdressed guest at the wedding?  What is that fury about?

In the first century, people often traveled by foot for days to get to a wedding banquet.  Rather than carry their best clothes with them, the custom was for wedding garments to be provided to the guests as a form of hospitality.   Here is a guest who came to the banquet to eat the food, drink the wine, listen to the music, and enjoy the festivities, but refused to wear the clothes that were provided.  The king did not expect the man to show up wearing the right clothes.  The king did expect the man to wear the clothes he was given.  The story is a parable, with many exaggerations and unlikely scenarios, but the message is clear: all are invited to the banquet in the Kingdom of God, and all who come are expected to put on the clothes they are given and enter into the joy of all that God is doing in the world.  The under-dressed man just wanted to enjoy the party.  Apparently, he had no interest in entering into the joy of the occasion.  So, he was thrown out into the utter darkness.

We are guests in the Kingdom of God.  We have been called to a banquet for which none of us are really prepared.  What clothes have we been provided to wear at this feast as we enter into God’s joy?  I believe Paul gives us a description of those clothes in the reading from Philippians.  Paul says “Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone.  Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be known to God.”  Then Paul writes “Whatever if honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think on these things.”  These are the clothes God calls us to wear as guests at the great banquet. Some days wearing those clothes is easier that other days.  Some days we just want to show up and sing the hymns, receive the bread and wine, enjoy each other’s company and be on our way, forgetting about what is just, pure, excellent, and worthy of praise.  We want the benefits of being God’s people, without having to actually live as God’s people.  The parable of the banquet reminds us that God expects more than that of us.  God expects us to wear the clothes we have been given, and enter fully into the banquet God has prepared for us.

                                                                             Amen.

Disaster

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

October 8, 2017

22 Proper A

          In a week where violence and the resulting heartbreak, confusion, and anger have dominated the news, a parable in which people are beaten, stoned, and killed seems sadly appropriate.   How does Jesus’ parable of the vineyard speak into a world where someone stockpiles deadly weapons and takes the lives of nearly 60 people and injures hundreds more?  What difference does a story about a landowner who will not give up make as people hold their dying loved ones?  What difference is made when “the stone that the builders rejected becomes the chief cornerstone” as people seek to rebuild their lives in the face of this and so many other disasters?  

          Jesus’ parable this morning is full of violence that makes about as much sense as the shooting in Las Vegas.  Jesus is speaking to the chief priests and Pharisees when he begins the parable with "There was a landowner who planted a vineyard, put a fence around it, dug a wine press in it and built a watchtower. " The chief priests and Pharisees knew their scriptures and would have immediately thought of similar words from the prophet Isaiah. "Let me sing for my beloved a love song concerning his vineyard.  My beloved had a vineyard on a very fertile hill.  He dug it and cleared it of stones, and planted it with choice vines; he built a watchtower in the midst of it, and he hewed out a wine vat in it."

At first, Jesus' parable does not appear to be telling us anything Isaiah has not already said.  The vineyard owner is God, and the vineyard is the community of God’s faithful people, who God loves and cares for.  But in the passage from Isaiah, God's love song turns very ugly, very quickly.  God's vineyard fails to yield anything but wild grapes, and so God is going to destroy the vineyard and make the land a waste.  God expected justice from God's people, but saw bloodshed, and God expected righteousness, but heard a cry.  Isaiah warns the people that they have strayed far from being the people God called them to be, and the consequences will be disastrous.

          So, when those gathered around Jesus heard him say "There was a landowner who planted a vineyard" they thought they knew what was coming.  Disaster.  Instead, they get a story in which God offers a most peculiar response to violence.  Listen to what the landowner does.  When the harvest comes, the landowner sends slaves to the tenants to collect his produce. But the tenants beat, stone, and kill the slaves.  Most people would call the police at this point.  But the landowner sends more slaves, thinking, for some reason, that the second set will be treated better.  That line of thinking makes no sense at all.  And, indeed, the tenants treat the second group of slaves just as badly as they did the first group.  No big surprise there.  At this point, the landowner needs to hire an attorney.  But in an action that completely defies common sense, the landowner sends his son, thinking the tenants will respect the son.  Seriously? And what happens? The tenants say "This is the heir.  Come let us kill him and get his inheritance."  Now, no one is thinking straight.  The landowner, willing to go to any lengths to win over the tenants, sends his son. The tenants think that the prize for murder is the inheritance.

At the end of the parable, after the tenants have killed the Son, Jesus asks "Now when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to the tenants?"  The chief priests and elders display the first bit of logic in the passage as well as their knowledge Scripture when they answer "He will put those wretches to a miserable death, and lease the vineyard to other tenants who will give him the produce at harvest time."  However, Jesus says to them "Have you never read in the scriptures: "The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone; this was the Lord's doing, and it is amazing in our eyes?"  When the landowner comes, it will not be to destroy, but to create.  Where the tenants have created death and destruction, the landowner will build something new and create life out of death.

Does God love us so much, then, that we can do whatever we like?  Does this parable condone violence and the wanton murder of innocent people since God will create life out of death?  Absolutely not.  In our reading from Exodus this morning, before God gives Moses the 10 commandments, God says this: "I am the Lord your God who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery."  God begins by telling us who God is.  God is the One who brought the people out of bondage in Egypt.  Then God goes on to tell the people who they are by telling them how they are to live.  The way of life articulated in the 10 commandments sets God's people apart from other people and reminds the people continually that they are the people of the God who led them out of bondage.

This morning, we have the privilege of baptizing Alice Lucy Anglewicz.  Every time we baptize someone, we renew our baptismal covenant.  The baptismal covenant works the same way as the 10 commandments do.  The promises we make are not a list of rules that we follow.   Instead, they describe behaviors that give us our identity as people who follow Jesus.  As followers of Jesus, we gather faithfully for worship, resist evil, seek and serve Christ in all people, proclaim the good news with our words and actions, and work for justice and peace.  We live this way as people who are baptized into the death and resurrection of Jesus, so that the world around us will know the God who creates life out of death.

          Jesus’ parable of the vineyard calls us to be like the landowner and live as people of hope, never giving up on God’s call to be people of life even when violence and death seem to win over and over again.  The promise of the gospel is that despite the power of violence and death, life will have the final victory.  The challenge of the gospel is to live our lives as people who believe with our whole hearts that love is stronger than hate, that God’s creation is ultimately good, and that by living as people who seek and serve Christ in all people, our lives will make a difference in this broken world.

                                                                             Amen

God's Good Pleasure

Charlotte Collins Reed

Christ Church Episcopal

October 1, 2017

                                                     21 Proper A

As the mother of two sons, truth in preaching requires me to disclose that the parable of the two sons is quite possibly my favorite of all Jesus’ parables.  What parent hasn’t had to deal with a child who says “no,” and does “yes,” or says “yes” and does “no?”  Suppose I ask one child to go out and shovel the snow.  He says “no,” but later changes his mind and shovels.  I ask the other child to shovel the snow, since the first child refused, and he says “yes” but goes to a movie instead.  One child says “no” and does “yes.” The other says “yes” but does “no.”  I believe that the child who said “yes” shoveled the snow, since the driveway is now clear, when in reality the child who said “no” did the work.  Nothing is worse in the eyes of sons than giving the wrong child credit for the job that was done.  The question is: which son has done the will of their mother?  If we say “the first son” since he actually did shovel the snow, then we are saying that only our works are important, but not our words.  If we say “the second son” who agreed to do the work but then went to a movie instead, we are saying that only words are important, and not our actions.  We clearly don’t want to go there!  So, which of these two children did the will of his mother? Any way we answer the question, we lose.  And does it even matter, since the driveway is now clear?

Of course, in Jesus’ parable, there is a lot more at stake than trying to get kids to shovel snow, but the problem is still the same. Which son did the will of the father?  The son who refused to work in the vineyard but changed his mind or the son who promised to work in the vineyard then failed to keep that promise. Which son did the will of the father?  Either way we answer the question, we lose.

While we are busy trying to figure out which son did the will of the father, Jesus says “Gotcha! Trick question!” Common sense, as well as most of the commentaries, tell us that, if we must choose between the two sons, the one who actually goes to work in the vineyard does the will of the father.  But that answer is way too obvious.  Jesus almost never asks a question with an obvious answer.  In the first part of our gospel reading this morning, Jesus was confronted in the Temple by the chief priests and elders, and they demanded to know by what authority Jesus acts.  Jesus turned the question on them and asked “Did the baptism of John come from heaven or was it from human origin?”  This is a trick question, because if they answer “from heaven,” Jesus will ask why they did not believe John.  If they say “from humans,” the crowd will revolt because they believed John to be a prophet.  Either way, the chief priests and elders are stuck.  Just like in the parable, there is no clear answer to the question Jesus has posed, and whichever answer the chief priests and elders give, they lose.

The parable of the two sons follows right on the heals of the question about John the Baptist.  If we’re thinking like humans, of the two sons, clearly the one who actually works in the vineyard does the will of the father.  But if we’re trying to think like Jesus, the correct answer is that neither did the will of the father.  The parable is another trick question!  When the chief priests and elders answer Jesus and say that the first son did the will of the father, what does Jesus say to them?  He says “Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you.”  That does not sound like “right answer!” to me.  Jesus’ answer is the ultimate put-down to the chief priests and elders.  The tax collectors and prostitutes will get into heaven before the chief priests and elders do. 

Neither son did the will of the father, because the will of the father is not a choice between right words or right actions.  The letter to the Philippians describes the relationship with each other and with God that we are called to have, and it does not look like the relationship either son had with the father in the parable.  The apostle Paul writes “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves.  Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others.  Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus.”  Does that sound like either of the sons in the parable?  I think not.  Paul makes it sound like the one who does the will of God is the one whose actions and words match, and whose actions and words look to the interests of others and match the words and actions of Christ.  That is the person who does the will of God.

God wants our words and our actions to match.  In baptism, we are asked five questions about how we will live as baptized people, and we reaffirm our answers to those questions every time someone is baptized here.  God asks us if we will continue in the apostle’s teaching and fellowship, the breaking of bread and the prayers.  God asks if we will proclaim the good news by word and example, if we will resist evil, if will seek and serve Christ in all people, and if we will respect the dignity of every human being and work for justice and peace.  Our responses to those questions are always an enthusiastic “I will with God’s help.”  For our words and actions to match, we are called to build our busy lives, including the use of our time, our skills, and our financial resources, around those promises.  How can we better match our words and actions when we consider our response to people who are marginalized because of their religion, their economic status, or sexual orientation?  Or as we consider our response to the disaster in Puerto Rico and other places at home and around the world?  Or as we consider our stewardship to our church as we talk about how to be a more vibrant presence in our community?

When Jesus says “Which child did the will of the father?” he is not asking us a question with an either/or answer.  Neither son did the will of the Father.  The will of God is that we say “yes” with both our words and our actions, and that both our words and our actions reflect the mind of Christ.  Let us be children who both speak and work for God’s good pleasure.

Amen.