Saturday, October 1, 2011

Child of God: A Sermon for 25 September 2011

Christ Church, St. Joseph, La.

Today’s parable from Matthew (21:23-32, NRSV) follows last Sunday’s parable by just a few verses. The Master is still presiding over the vineyard.

In the time of Jesus, wine was drunk with most meals. It was the safest thing to drink. Thus the Master of the vineyard was in the business of providing a major necessity of everyday life.

Today wine is not a major necessity of life, at least not for those of us who have safe drinking water. Yet we value it highly, first because of its role in our sacramental life, but also as a special drink we willingly pay for--sometimes handsomely. So Jesus’ imagery continues to resonate.

Today’s story about the Master’s sons and the vineyard struck close to home for me. Up in Ouachita Parish we are privileged to have a real, honest-to-goodness functioning vineyard. It came about when Hurricane Katrina chased Jeff Landry out of south Louisiana. He found a lovely piece of hilly land west of West Monroe and planted his vines.

Landry’s Vineyard thrives, I believe in part because Jeff’s business plan seems to involve inviting the locals to become part of the family and get hands-on involved in the operation. 


Libby & Jeff Landry, Landry Vineyards, Ouachita Parish
Thus when it is time to pick the grapes, Jeff doesn’t hire a professional crew of grape pickers. Rather, he invites everyone and anyone to come on out on the chosen Saturdays, pick grapes for as long as you want or are able, then return for an evening of festivities that includes wine tasting, of course, plus Louisiana cuisine and live music, and even stomping grapes, if you are so inclined.

Back in late August, I decided to help with the red grape harvest. I even told several friends that I was going to be there come Saturday morning to help pick those grapes. After all, I love red wine!

But, you guessed it: Come Saturday morning, it was hot, hot, hot. I was tired from a week of I don’t remember what…. It just didn’t seem so important to hop out of bed early and go out into the sun, on that steep hillside, among those vines that probably harbored mosquitoes and who knows what all, and pick those grapes. I didn’t show.

We have all been the son or daughter who said “yes,” then didn’t do what we said we would do. For any number of reasons, some good, some not so good, we all at least occasionally agree to do things that we ultimately do not do.

But, you know what? We have also all been the son or daughter who said “no.” No, I don’t have time. No, I have a scheduling conflict. No, I’m no good at that. Etc., etc. Then we thought better of it, or we made some time, or we simply felt guilty, and we went and did what we thought we couldn’t or wouldn’t do.

Moreover, more times than not, we are the son or daughter Jesus doesn’t mention in this story—the one that says “yes”… and then is good to that word. That’s the ideal we uphold, and even though we don’t always achieve it, I’m pretty confident that most of us most of the time are people of our word.

We say “no” only when we must. We say “yes” most of the time, perhaps too often for our own good, and most of the time, we do what we say we’ll do.

So why didn’t Jesus put these ideal children in his story? What is the lesson of this story for us, given that most of us know that on any given day we could be either of these sons, both of whom need an attitude adjustment, but that on most days we strive to be the ideal child who is not in the story?

Perhaps you’ve noticed that I’ve completely passed over, so far, one set of characters who… well, are they part of this story or not? What IS the connection between this story about the Master of the vineyard and his two sons, and these Pharisees standing around questioning Jesus about his authority?

At first blush, there appears to be none. The Pharisees try to trick Jesus. Jesus quickly turns the tables on them. Jesus launches into a story.

We can readily see ourselves in either and both of the sons who insult their father by not being men of their word. But we’re not too upset by that because we also know that we are often the missing ideal child.

But… and here’s where it gets uncomfortable: What if we’re the Pharisees?

Could it be that the Pharisees are those “ideal” children missing from the story? The good church people of the day who strive to be good to their word… but who then forget the times they said “yes” and didn’t show?

The good church people of the day who say “no” because, after all, they have businesses to take care of and a family and lifestyle to maintain, and they really don’t have time to feed the poor and welcome the stranger—who are surely lazy or illegal anyway?

The good church people of the day who become so full of themselves and their many good deeds that they come to think themselves better than all those sinners out there who just can’t seem to get their act together?

The Pharisees in this story stand for us when we are hypocritical and self- righteous, when we forget that we are sinners in need of mercy too.

A drunk man who smelled like beer sat down on a subway seat next to a priest. The man's tie was stained, his face plastered with red lipstick, and a half-empty bottle of gin was sticking out of his torn coat pocket. He opened his newspaper and began to read.




After a few minutes the man turned to the priest and asked, 'Say Father, what causes arthritis?'



The priest replied, 'My son, it's caused by loose living, too much alcohol, contempt for your fellow man, sleeping around with prostitutes and lack of a bath.' 

The drunk muttered, 'Well, I'll be damned,' and returned to his paper.



The priest, thinking about what he had said, nudged the man and apologized. 'I'm very sorry. I didn't mean to come on so strong. How long have you had arthritis?'



The drunk answered, 'I don't have it, Father. I was just reading here that the Pope does.' (Internet joke, contributed by Edge of the Enclosure)

Those who would enjoy the bounty of the Master’s Vineyard, better get used to rubbing elbows with drunks and prostitutes. For they are variations on Child of God just like you and me, and the Master sees through ALL of our false selves.                                                                    

AMEN

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