The Sermons At Calvary
By The Reverend Rhonda Lee
19 Pentecost, Proper 21 Year A
Matthew 21:28-32
What Do You Think?
“What do you think?” That’s the question Jesus asks of the chief
priests and the elders of the temple in our gospel reading today. That question is part of a larger
conversation between Jesus and the religious authorities of his own day. By the time Jesus poses this question to the
leaders, he has already argued with them at different times about such things
as how best to observe the Sabbath day and keep it holy, and whether or not a
man ever has the right to divorce his wife.
These questions matter because Jesus has been teaching as if he had
authority from God to interpret Scripture and tradition, and people are
bringing him their questions about how to live a faithful life. So just before our reading for today starts,
the chief priests and elders ask Jesus, “By what authority are you doing these
things, and who gave you this authority?”
Just who do you think you are?
they ask him – repeating the question that religious and political
authorities have put to prophets and revolutionaries for millenia.
Jesus
answers with a question. He says, “I
will also ask you one question; if you tell me the answer, then I will also
tell you by what authority I do [the things I do]. Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human
origin?” And the elders are
caught. They know that if they say John’s baptism came from God, Jesus
will want to know why they are not among John’s followers, and they know that
if they say it was just a human invention, they will make John’s followers
angry. So they take the easy way out:
they say they don’t know. And Jesus, in
turn, refuses to tell them what the source of his authority is.
But
the conversation doesn’t end there, because Jesus doesn’t let it go. He presses them. Maybe he figured, “OK, they won’t or can’t answer me about an
actual case, so let’s try a hypothetical situation. Maybe they’ll feel safer and tell me what they really think.” That’s where our reading picks up
today. “What do you think?” Jesus asks.
Now, there is a time and a place to appreciate holy mysteries, to say we
don’t know why something has happened or how God works, to say simply “I don’t
know.” Jesus told his followers that
there were things they would only understand about him later, after his death,
and he told them that there was a time during his earthly life to proclaim who
he was, and a time to keep his identity quiet.
But Jesus’ words and actions more often tell us that there are times to
take a stand. There are time to confess
what we believe, to back up those words with our actions, and to take whatever
consequences may follow.
Often
when we think about confessions of faith we think of saints, those people who
seem so different from the rest of us because of their selflessness, their
radical faith in God. Sometimes,
though, when I think about confessions of faith my thoughts take a very
different turn, and I remember my grandfather.
Some of you have already heard me say that my grandfather, called Ted,
was the most devoutly religious person in my family when I was growing up. And so he was: a devout atheist who grew up
in the north of Scotland, a region steeped in both the Calvinism of John Knox
and the indelible remnants of the pre-Christian pagan religion of my
grandfather’s ancestors. My grandfather
was the only person in my whole family who would tell you exactly what he
believed in matters of faith, and he was clear about the fact that he had no
use at all for the church or for anyone’s god.
He welcomed the opportunity to discuss
matters of faith, and he would sit in his garden and argue with any
Jehovah’s Witness or Mormon who happened to stop by hoping to convert him. I sometimes felt a bit sorry for those
missionaries, but at least if they wanted a cup of tea they always got one, and
a cookie or a sandwich. You always knew
where my grandfather stood, and no one could ever accuse him of being wishy-washy. If Jesus had asked him, “What do you think?”
believe me, Ted would have told him.
You’ll be relieved
to know that I’m not saying that Christians should convert to atheism. But I am saying that I think we need to be
willing to confess our faith, and when we say “I don’t know,” to say it because
we feel humble before the great mysteries of faith, not because we simply want
to avoid facing real disagreements. We
might learn something if we face those disagreements, if we’re clear about
where we stand, and if we’re kind to our conversation partners.
Our
words are only part of the story, though.
In today’s reading, Jesus has the same message for the religious leaders
of his day, for Matthew’s community in the first century, and for us today. Jesus says, Your words are important, but
they’re not what interests me most of all.
The second son in today’s story says all the right things when his
father tells him to go work in the vineyard – “I go, sir” – but he doesn’t back
up his words with action. The first son
grumbles, saying to his father’s face “I will not,” but later he changes his
mind and goes to work in the vineyard after all. So when Jesus asks, “Which of the two did the will of his
father?” the answer is obvious to his debating partners. And it’s still obvious today.
Last
week, Ned preached about grace. He
reminded us that the deeds we do in the name of Jesus Christ are a gift that we
offer because we are grateful for how much God loves us and all creation. They’re not a bribe we offer to try to win
God’s love for ourselves alone. We
express our gratitude through our baptismal covenant, the words we say when
someone is initiated into the church.
First we confess our faith in the words of the Apostles’ Creed, and then
we promise that we will continue in the prayers and the breaking of bread, that
we will repent of our sins and re-commit ourselves to God, that we will
proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ, and that we will
love our neighbors as ourselves and strive for justice and peace among all people. We take a stand with our words; like the
second son, we say, “I will go,” and then we are meant to back up that stand
with our actions – even if, like the first son, we grumble a bit along the way.
Centuries ago, St. Francis of Assisi summed up the Christian’s mission in these
words: “Preach the Gospel at all times.
Use words if necessary.”
If
you’ve looked through your order of service this morning, you know that today
is our ministry fair at Calvary Church.
Some of you already have a ministry, some of you may be looking for a
new ministry, some of you may be new to the church and wondering how exactly
you will fit in. I invite you to come
to the fair, to look at and listen to the descriptions of the different
ministries of this church. You may
realize that a particular ministry is exactly what God has been calling you to,
you may want to try one for a while, you may want to take some information
about a couple of ministries and discern your call through conversation and
prayer. There is work – and play –
enough in this vineyard for all of us.
And when Jesus or anyone else asks, “What do you think?” our actions
will tell them the answer before we’ve said a word.