Monday, October 31, 2011

What do these stones mean?

Joshua 4: 1-9 and 19-24, page 196
When the entire nation had finished crossing over the Jordan, the Lord said to Joshua: “Select twelve men from the people, one from each tribe, and command them, ‘Take twelve stones from here out of the middle of the Jordan, from the place where the priests’ feet stood, carry them over with you, and lay them down in the place where you camp tonight.’”
Then Joshua summoned the twelve men from the Israelites, whom he had appointed, one from each tribe. Joshua said to them, “Pass on before the ark of the Lord your God into the middle of the Jordan, and each of you take a stone on his shoulder, one for each of the tribes of the Israelites, so that this may be a sign among you.
When your children ask in time to come, ‘What do these stones mean to you?’ then you shall tell them that the waters of the Jordan were cut off in front of the ark of the covenant of the Lord. When it crossed over the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off. So these stones shall be to the Israelites a memorial forever.”
The Israelites did as Joshua commanded. They took up twelve stones out of the middle of the Jordan, according to the number of the tribes of the Israelites, as the Lord told Joshua, carried them over with them to the place where they camped, and laid them down there. (Joshua set up twelve stones in the middle of the Jordan, in the place where the feet of the priests bearing the Ark of the Covenant had stood; and they are there to this day.)
(19) The people came up out of the Jordan on the tenth day of the first month, and they camped in Gilgal on the east border of Jericho. Those twelve stones, which they had taken out of the Jordan, Joshua set up in Gilgal, saying to the Israelites, “When your children ask their parents in time to come, ‘What do these stones mean?’ then you shall let your children know, ‘Israel crossed over the Jordan here on dry ground.’ For the Lord your God dried up the waters of the Jordan for you until you crossed over as the Lord your God did to the Red Sea, which God dried up for us until we crossed over, so that all the peoples of the earth may know that the hand of the Lord is mighty, and so that you may fear the Lord your God forever.”
Sermon
It’s not quite Halloween, but already, available in the ice cream isle at Kroger on James Campbell Boulevard is Blue Bell’s candy cane ice cream. I’m not complaining, it’s delicious, but it’s still October and it seems like Christmas comes earlier and earlier each year.
When I was 10 it couldn’t get here soon enough. It seemed like the days of December lasted forever and the sooner toy stores provided ideas for my Christmas, list the better.
I assume that’s the point. Stores assume that the earlier they start promoting Christmas the more time we’ll have to think about what we want. And the more time we have to think about what we want, the more we’ll buy. But there’s a problem here. We’re trained to want. Earlier and earlier every year we are trained to gear up for wanting, and when Christmas morning comes, even if we receive everything our heart desires, it’s still hard to turn our brains off wanting.
When I was five, six, and seven – I don’t think it worked this way, but by the time I was 11 something started to change. By the time I was 11, I remember going through all my presents and after unwrapping everything I could see. I’d check under the sofa to make sure I didn’t miss anything. I’d go through my Christmas list in my head accounting for what I received and longing for what I didn’t.
What I didn’t get became the focus of my attention; surrounded by wrapping paper and who knows how many presents, I was busy thinking about what I still wanted.
To stop, look around, and be thankful – that’s what I needed, and it’s too bad I didn’t know how.
That’s the danger in wanting, I think. Once our minds are tuned to wanting it’s hard to shift gears to being thankful. So after longing for freedom during generations of enslavement, after longing for the Promised Land after years of wandering through the desert, the Lord stops the waters of the Jordan and Joshua leads the people in building a monument.
“When your children ask their parents in time to come, ‘What do these stones mean?’ then you shall let your children know, ‘Israel crossed over the Jordan here on dry ground.’ For the Lord your God dried up the waters of the Jordan for you until you crossed over as the Lord your God did to the Red Sea, which God dried up for us until we crossed over, so that all the peoples of the earth may know that the hand of the Lord is mighty, and so that you may fear the Lord your God forever.”
‘What do these stones mean?’ It’s a simple question and one I can easily imagine a child asking her mother, because it’s children who ask just that kind of question. When I was a kid we’d drive under the Richard Hunter Memorial Bridge and I’d ask my parents who he was and how he ended up with a bridge named after him. But they didn’t know.
The same thing might happen to you. Driving down 7th Street towards Trotwood, a curious child might look to her right and notice the 20 foot tall stone monument standing on top of the hill and ask her father, “Who was Pop Gears?” I hope you have an answer, but you may not. Today it’s a little more difficult, because while our children ask the same questions they always have, Joshua’s not here to give us the answer.
‘What do these stones mean?’ These stones mean that before you were born there were people who did great things, who gave of themselves, who crossed deserts, who endured hardship, who sacrificed, who survived so that you might have a better life.
‘What do these stones mean?’ These stones mean that all the gifts you take for granted, all the privileges you enjoy, came from somewhere, and to those who gave you what you have, you should be thankful.
‘What do these stones mean?’ These stones mean that entitlement stands on ignorance, while those who know where what they have came from are filled with something else: gratitude.
This country, this city, this church – they are gifts given by people who came before.
The foundation of this sanctuary, the pews you sit in, and the music you hear – gifts given to the glory of God that you and I enjoy.
‘What do these stones mean?’ These stones mean that the Lord your God dried up the waters of the Jordan for you. These stones mean that just as the Lord your God did to the Red Sea, the Lord dried up the waters of the Jordan for us until we crossed over.
Now here are words of gratitude, and it was gratitude that defined the Israelites as they entered the Promised Land – not longing, not wanting anymore – gratitude.
This is the purpose of Stewardship – that in a world of longing for more, in a world where satisfaction always lies just beyond our grasp, the Lord invites us to give thanks for what we have, to give a portion back acknowledging the source of all our blessings.
So it is gratitude that defines us, even during this recession where all around us we are told there isn’t enough.
It is gratitude that defines us, even in a season of asking, hoping, and longing.
It is gratitude that defines us, because we are God’s people, and for us the Lord dried up the waters; the Lord your God dried up the waters of the Jordan for us until we crossed over.
‘What do these stones mean?’ These stones mean that you are the recipient of so many good gifts, and it’s time to acknowledge the source of all that you have been given.
Amen.

Monday, October 24, 2011

Leave them for her to glean

Ruth 2: 1-16, page 242
Now Naomi had a kinsman on her husband’s side, a prominent rich man, of the family of Elimelech, whose name was Boaz. And Ruth the Moabite said to Naomi, “Let me go to the field and glean among the ears of grain, behind someone in whose sight I may find favor.”
She said to her, “Go, my daughter.” So she went. She came and gleaned in the field behind the reapers. As it happened, she came to the part of the field belonging to Boaz, who was of the family of Elimelech. Just then Boaz came from Bethlehem. He said to the reapers, “The Lord be with you.” They answered, “The Lord bless you.”
Then Boaz said to his servant who was in charge of the reapers, “To whom does this young woman belong?”
The servant who was in charge of the reapers answered, “She is the Moabite who came back with Naomi from the country of Moab. She said, ‘Please, let me glean and gather among the sheaves behind the reapers.’ So she came, and has been on her feet from early this morning until now, without resting even for a moment.”
Then Boaz said to Ruth, “Now listen, my daughter, do not go to glean in another field or leave this one, but keep close to my young women. Keep your eyes on the field that is being reaped, and follow behind them. I have ordered the young men not to bother you. If you get thirsty, go to the vessels and drink from what the young men have drawn.”
Then she fell prostrate, with her face to the ground, and said to him, “Why have I found favor in your sight, that you should take notice of me, when I am a foreigner?”
But Boaz answered her, “All that you have done for your mother-in-law since the death of your husband has been fully told to me, and how you left your father and mother and your native land and came to a people that you did not know before. May the Lord reward you for your deeds, and may you have a full reward from the Lord, the God of Israel, under whose wings you have come for refuge!”
Then she said, “May I continue to find favor in your sight, my lord, for you have comforted me and spoken kindly to your servant even though I am not one of your servants.”
At mealtime Boaz said to her, “Come here, and eat some of this bread, and dip your morsel in the sour wine.” So she sat beside the reapers, and he heaped up for her some parched grain. She ate until she was satisfied, and she had some left over. When she got up to glean, Boaz instructed his young men, “Let her glean even among the standing sheaves, and do not reproach her. You must also pull out some handfuls for her from the bundles, and leave them for her to glean, and do not rebuke her.”
Sermon
It’s amazing what gets left behind.
Take pretzels for example. I bet as many broken pretzels get left behind as fully formed pretzels are produced; but that was before the discovery of pretzel pieces. You can buy pretzel pieces at Kroger, and what they are I’m sure, are pretzels that broke during the production process repackaged and renamed as pretzel pieces – though really they’re just broken pretzels.
It’s not unlike mixing scraps of wood with glue and calling it particle board or mixing up scraps of meat with salt and flavoring and calling it a hot dog – it’s economical using up every little bit, it’s not wasting, and it’s making someone a lot more money than if they were throwing the stuff out or giving it away.
The owner wants to make as much money as possible, so why not take advantage of what’s left behind.
Boaz, as the owner of the field, doesn’t want the reapers who are harvesting his grain to let anything go to waste – he wants them to get all that they possibly can. However, we know from this lesson from the book of Ruth that there is a whole group of people whose survival depends on what gets left behind.
They’re called gleaners, and without any fields of their own, without any other means to provide for their families, the most desperate people in the land follow behind the reapers picking over what they leave behind.
I had never put much thought into what their lives must have been like until John Satterwhite called me out to a corn field on Mt. Pleasant Pike. I was having a great time riding with him in the air conditioned cab of the combine, and then he started talking about how hard it must have been for Ruth and Naomi, and next thing I knew he had me walking behind him gleaning as many corn kernels as I could find for a little hands on education.
Maybe you can imagine it. I wasn’t really dressed for the occasion, but there I was in the middle of that corn field with a grocery bag looking for corn kernels left behind from the combine. There wasn’t much left either – not that I was thinking too much about it, I was mostly just hoping no one I knew drove by.
It’s a little strange to be walking around in a corn field with just a bag, looking through the broken stalks hoping to find something you can eat, but that’s what Ruth was doing. She was out there alone, known to belong to no one, and there’s a reason Boaz orders the young men not to bother her – not only was she in a humiliating position, she was in a dangerous one as well.
Leaving as little as possible behind the reapers worked, as the more they harvested the more money they would make, but the more they harvested the less there would be for the gleaners who followed.
But then Boaz does something strange. When Ruth got up to glean again after mealtime he instructed his young men, “Let her glean even among the standing sheaves, and do not reproach her. You must also pull out some handfuls for her from the bundles, and leave them for her to glean, and do not rebuke her.”
I’m sure these young men must have wondered why Boaz was instructing them to do this, and I’m sure they must have thought it was bad business, but profits were no longer his chief priority. He saw Ruth, not as a gleaner, but as a person, and with what Boaz was willing to leave behind she filled her empty belly with parched grain, filled her bag with grain to bring back to Naomi, and survived to became not just a person but a great hero of scripture so revered that her name is listed in the great genealogy of the gospel of Matthew. She survived, but not only survived, joined the ranks of Abraham, King David, and Jesus Christ himself.
She could have been just a gleaner, but with what he was willing to leave behind, with the profit he was willing to sacrifice, she became something else – she became “and Boaz the father of Obed by Ruth, and Obed the father of Jesse, and Jesse the father of King David.”
There in the field Boaz was willing to give up a bushel of barley, and with that barley Ruth did more than survive, she became the great grandmother of King David himself.
It didn’t have to happen this way – she could have died nameless, just another gleaner in the field, but because of the kindness of Boaz she became Ruth.
Isn’t that a horrible fate – namelessness? But this is the state of so many who depend on what we leave behind, and the more we keep for ourselves the less there will be for those who depend on what gets left behind.
Last week I was reading Sound Off as I always do. A caller called in the following to the Daily Herald: “I was recently at the intersection of the Polk Home and the Methodist Church downtown admiring the home, the fountains and much hard work the lady does to take care of the flowers there, when I noticed that we had a tour bus (of people) getting ready to go on a cart-drawn ride. And then I looked and I see our permanent homeless resident’s shopping cart full of old clothes and anything else that could be left there. I was so embarrassed. I cannot believe that we put up with him leaving things out in public – especially when we have guests. It’s a disgrace.”
His name is Melvin, but knowing that demands seeing him as more than a disgrace. Knowing his name demands acknowledging the fact that he’s a person; a person who has been fed by the members of this church who are less concerned with the shopping cart full of old clothes that he leaves junking up the prettiest corner in the city and more concerned with leaving enough behind for him to survive.
For a long time there was another who walked the streets of Columbia to the embarrassment of some. Last month she passed away, and while she might have died nameless, just another of the faceless poor, because of the generosity of a handful of members of this church she was given a gravestone that reads “Nancy Oliver.”
I’m sure that money could have gone to something else; members of our church didn’t have to leave that money behind for her – but what a gift it is to remember someone’s name.
Here in this place names are learned. Children in Fellowship Hall, in this sanctuary, in Kroger hear their names called by you – and it makes all the difference in the world.
This is one of the great purposes of the church – to call them by name, and to nourish them with what we leave behind so that their future might be one where they know who they are – that they are known by God and know that God calls them daughter and son.
Moses went up from the plains of Moab, the same land that Ruth called home, and climbed to Mount Nebo where God showed him the whole land that he had only dreamed of, only to learn that he would never cross himself. In this moment he knew that he had been walking across the desert not for himself, but for those who followed.
It’s amazing what gets left behind.
Moses left behind a whole land of promise for his people, Boaz left behind the grain that helped Ruth to survive and become one of scripture’s great heroes.
And what will you leave?
I pray that you will leave behind enough of what you could keep for yourself to feed every homeless person who would go nameless and hungry without your kindness.
I pray you will leave behind enough of what you could keep for yourself so that every person in this room might know who they are in the eyes of God.
I pray that you will leave behind enough of what you could keep for yourself so that every child, every child’s child, down to third, fourth, and fifth generation will be able to come into the place and hear some word worth hearing.
It takes you leaving something behind. It takes you making people more important than profits. It takes you giving up what you could keep for yourself – but what you leave behind may well be the food to feed the heroes of our future.
Next Sunday you will be asked to make your contribution to this church, and I pray that you will consider how much you can leave behind this week. The more you leave behind the less you will have, but the more you leave behind the brighter the future.
Amen.

Sunday, October 16, 2011

The Emperor's

Matthew 22: 15-22, page 24
Then the Pharisees went and plotted to entrap him in what he said.
So they sent their disciples to him along with the Herodians, saying, “Teacher, we know that you are sincere, and teach the way of God in accordance with truth, and show deference to no one; for you do not regard people with partiality. Tell us, then, what you think. Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?”
But Jesus, aware of their malice, said, “Why are you putting me to the test, you hypocrites? Show me the coin used for the tax.”
And they brought him a denarius.
Then he said to them, “Whose head is this, and whose title?”
They answered, “The emperor’s.”
Then he said to them, “Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s and to God the things that are God’s.”
When they heard this, they were amazed; and they left him and went away.
Sermon
“You can’t buy your friends,” my mother used to say. Maybe Chechnyan President, Mr. Ramzan Kadyrov’s (Ram-Zan Kitty-ruv) mother never told him that, as he recently spent millions to buy himself several celebrity friends to attend his 35th birthday party. Singer Beyonce cost Chechnyan taxpayers 2 million dollars, and also in attendance were other American celebrities Maria Carey, Usher, Jean Claude Van Damn, and Hilary Swank who all came with a price tag of their own. I don’t imagine that the taxpayers were happy, but I doubt any complained, as in addition to having to buy friends President Kadyrov is also a known human rights abuser, accused of abducting and torturing those Chechnyans who have dared question his authority.
The story was on the Today Show last Thursday morning and was focused on these celebrities, many who were urged not to attend the big birthday party by human rights groups. Although it’s difficult to decide who to be most disappointed in, the president whose authority is maintained through force or the celebrities whose friendship can be bought at the right price. But the real losers here are the Cheznian people whose money could have gone to fund badly needed schools, hospitals, and roads, but instead covered a lavish birthday party for a president they don’t even like.
This wasn’t the first time however; so it was for the Ancient Jews in the time of Jesus. Taxes were so despised, so resented, that tax collectors were considered hopeless when it came to salvation, rebellions were frequent but strongly suppressed by the Roman legion, and most of the money was shipped off to Rome. Some of the money did stay in Jerusalem however. It went to pay the Herodians, the Roman puppet government, and pay for Herod’s self-aggrandizing building projects.
The Pharisees didn’t want anything to do with it, and didn’t believe God wanted anything to do with it either. Rather than accept the vulgar coins used to pay the Roman Tax at the Temple, they set up money changers so that coins bearing the graven image of the Emperor could be exchanged for coins worthy of being offered to God; God, who is holy and just, while the Emperor is pagan and oppressive.
They feared Jesus, however. They feared that his popularity was a threat, so they set a trap attempting to “entrap him in what he said.”
“Teacher, we know that you are sincere, and teach the way of God in accordance with truth, and show deference to no one; for you do not regard people with partiality. Tell us, then, what you think. Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?”
It’s a well laid trap because anyone for the tax was a traitor and anyone against it was a criminal. The Pharisees were there to condemn him if he was for it, and they brought the Herodians with them to condemn him if he were against it.
It’s as though John Adams were campaigning for the 1st Continental Congress. He stands before Sam Adams and the other organizers of the Boston Tea party, violently opposed to British taxation, as well as the British authorities who are prepared to take down anyone openly opposed to paying tribute to the king.
“Mr. Adams, is it lawful to pay taxes to the king, or not?” someone asks from the crowd.
On the one hand is the treat of being tarred and feathered, on the other, execution for openly questioning British authority.
It’s not too different from asking politicians today about it. Even though most of our taxes will be spent on projects that will benefit us, much of what our taxes go to pay for aren’t representative of our priorities. They don’t go to pay for lavish birthday parties, but they do fund unpopular wars and they would go to pay for an unpopular health care plan.
Politicians don’t want to be labeled as being against taxes for fear of seeming irresponsible, but they can’t be for taxes either, as so many in our nation are sick and tired of it. We look at our pay checks and want that big chunk that gets taken by our Federal and State government back. For this reason the IRS has the public approval rating equal to that of the Cheznian President; we just don’t like to give up money that we’ve worked hard for.
So the question the Pharisees and the Herodians ask of Christ could be just as damaging to any presidential candidate – “Is it lawful to pay taxes to the government, or not?”
“Show me the coin used for the tax,” he says to them.
“Whose head is this, and whose title?”
They answered, “The emperor’s.”
“Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.”
He answers their question, but not the way they wanted him to. Is he for taxes? Yes, but that’s not the point anymore. He has avoided the trap himself and used it against them, showing the crowd what it means to be faithful in a time where money is given universal allegiance. Tertullian, a great patriarch of Christianity writing during the early 3rd Century, explains what Christ means – the emperor has a right to what is made in the emperor’s image: the coin; but in the same way God has a right to what is made in God’s image: you.
So much fighting over a coin; so much resentment. It is the fuel of commerce as with it anything can be bought or sold: cars, homes, and land. Some even put their very bodies and souls up for sale, selling their friendship, compromising their values for a price, knowing their worth in terms of dollars and cents.
But is it theirs to sell?
Give to the emperor what bears his image, but give to God what bears the image of God.
These words mean something in a world where human slavery is more prevalent today than before the Civil War – those who believe that bodies can bought and sold, that lives can be bartered for; they are attempting to sell what God already owns.
These words mean something in a world where so much of self-worth is based on salary, unemployment tearing down the foundation self-confidence, as though human worth was susceptible to the whims of the stock market.
These words mean something when a financial recession causes a state of emergency, compromises standards of ethics, causes spikes in domestic violence and child abuse as though money dictated happiness, not realizing that it does only if we allow it to.
“Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?” they ask him, as though this were even the issue.
For so many it is – so often it’s easier to keep than to give and to go on longing for whatever percentage escapes our grasp – but the deeper issue Christ puts before you today gets to the illusion of ownership, the weakness of the emperor compared to the majesty of God, and the price tag we put on human life.
Today is the first Sunday of the Stewardship Season, but the question isn’t how much do you really need to give, the question for today is how much was God willing to give for you.
In a world where value is assigned, fortunes are made, and money talks, your value has been decided by Christ who laid down his life to prove how much you are worth in the eyes of God. Your worth, your value, has already been determined by the God who died on a cross so that you might live. You, bearing the image of your creator, belong to God and God will not let you go. While the emperor may want more and more and more, God wants all of you, and for you our God has paid the ultimate price.
You, are God’s own – give to God then your life, your whole self.
Amen.

Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Tenants

Matthew 21: 33-46, page 24
“Listen to another parable. There was a landowner who planted a vineyard, put a fence around it, dug a wine press in it, and built a watchtower. Then he leased it to tenants and went to another country. When the harvest time had come, he sent his slaves to the tenants to collect his produce. But the tenants seized his slaves and beat one, killed another, and stoned another.
Again he sent other slaves, more than the first; and they treated them in the same way. Finally he sent his son to them, saying, ‘They will respect my son.’ But when the tenants saw the son, they said to themselves, ‘This is the heir; come, let us kill him and get his inheritance.’
So they seized him, threw him out of the vineyard, and killed him.
Now when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?”
They said to him, “He will put those wretches to a miserable death, and lease the vineyard to other tenants who will give him the produce at the harvest time.”
Jesus said to them, “Have you never read 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’?
Therefore I tell you, the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people that produces the fruits of the kingdom. The one who falls on this stone will be broken to pieces; and it will crush anyone on whom it falls.”
When the chief priests and the Pharisees heard his parables, they realized that he was speaking about them. They wanted to arrest him, but they feared the crowds, because they regarded him as a prophet.
Sermon
We went to the zoo, and I was watching a young boy lag behind the rest of his family. The boy’s dad kept yelling to him to keep up, but it wasn’t working. Then the dad says, “You mean they just let that gorilla roam around loose in here?”
There’s a big difference between looking at animals when there’s a fence separating you from them and finding a gorilla sneaking up behind you, and I think it’s the same as the difference between listening to one of Jesus’ parables from a safe distance and listening to one of Jesus’ parables suddenly realizing that it’s you he’s talking about.
Chapter 21 of the Gospel of Matthew concerns the temple – in verse 12 Jesus enters the temple and cleanses it by overturning the tables of the money changes saying, “My house shall be called a house of prayer; but you are making it a den of robbers.” In verse 18, a fig tree represents the temple, and Jesus curses it for not producing fruit, then the chief priests and the elders ask him “by what authority do you do these things”?
He doesn’t answer directly – instead he tells them a story.
He could have just said, “I am God’s son, the rightful heir to this temple over which you claim lordship, and, having used it to honor yourselves rather than honor God, I have been sent here to put things right.”
But he doesn’t say that. Instead he tells them a story – there was a vineyard and the tenants entrusted with the care of that vineyard didn’t respect the messengers sent by the owner. They beat one, killed another, and stoned another. Then more were sent, but to no avail. Finally the owner said, “They will respect my son,” surely they will respect my son, so I’ll send him. But they seized him, threw him out of the vineyard and killed him as well.
“Now when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?” Jesus asks them.
Assuming this was just a story, they gave him the clear answer: “They said to him, 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.”
But it wasn’t just a story, and suddenly the gorilla that was behind the bars in the zoo is sneaking up behind them as they answer his question before they realize he’s not talking about a vineyard at all. He’s talking about them.
Now, from our perspective this is a pretty good trick. Jesus doesn’t have to come out and tell them they’re doing wrong – they’ve done it for him. He also doesn’t have to threaten a punishment; they pick out a punishment that seems just, only they don’t realize their picking out their own punishment.
And that’s how Jesus is. Rather than tell you what you’re doing wrong, rather than threaten punishment, he’s more interested in your repentance than delivering a stern lecture that’s sure to go in one ear and out the other.
So say he’s trying to tell you something through this parable.
If he is he wouldn’t just come out and tell you, instead Jesus would help you realize it for yourself.
Say you were the tenant and the earth was the vineyard. If Jesus were concerned about you overstepping your bounds, using up more than your share, taking and destroying more than can be replaced, Jesus wouldn’t just tell you to change your ways, to take seriously the damage pollution is doing to the earth, to think more about the environmental impact of our way of life. Instead there would be prophets sent for us to ignore, and then innocent life lost just because we became more interested in preserving our way of life than honoring the God who freely gave us this earth as a gift.
Say you were the tenant and your school was the vineyard. If Jesus were concerned about the way you were treating your classmates, treating some with disrespect, bullying others, and using words that tore each other down rather than built each other up, Jesus wouldn’t just tell you to change your ways, to take more seriously how much damage your words can do. Instead there would be prophets warning you along the way, and then innocent life would be lost because we became more interested in feeling good about ourselves at the expense of others than honoring the God who says that Kingdom belongs to the least of these.
Or say you were the tenant and grace was the vineyard. If Jesus were concerned about your keeping grace, a gift given by God freely but kept selfishly by you, then Jesus wouldn’t just come and tell you to change your ways. Instead there would be warnings ignored, friends lost, and innocent victims hurt because you were incapable of offering others the same forgiveness that you have received.
I think it’s significant that the owner of the vineyard sends the son rather than an army. An army would have been able to seize the watchtower, fight the tenants into submission, take back the vineyard. But instead the owner of the vineyard seems intent on helping the tenants see the error of their ways.
So he sends the son – surely they’ll listen to him – surely they will respect my son.
Ours is not a God of punishment and retribution, though that would have been easier. Instead our God shows us that Christ is hurt, killed, innocently because of the error of our ways.
They said to him, “He will put those wretches to a miserable death, and lease the vineyard to other tenants who will give him the produce at the harvest time.”
Will he, or will he hope that the son’s innocent blood will be enough to show the tenants that they have gone far enough?
Will God put those wretches to a miserable death, or is God after something more – not punishment, but repentance, change that you choose to make?
Choose then, today, to listen to the warnings, to be aware of the harm that you can do. For when you live your life aware of the innocent Christ who was killed by those who wouldn’t listen, you honor the God who gave you everything that you have.
Amen.