October 1, 2017
Ezek 18:25-28; Phil 2:1-11; Matt 21:28-32
Brookdale
Today’s Gospel story is the parable about two sons and their father. One son says that he will work in the vineyard but doesn’t; the other at first refuses but then later goes to work. This parable always seemed to me to have a pretty obvious moral: what you do is more important than what you say. But Jesus doesn’t do obvious parables, so let’s look again.
The parable is addressed to the “chief priests and elders of the people.” These were the good people, like our bishops and priests and people like us, the right-minded, law-abiding people. The clue that this parable is intended to make us uncomfortable comes at the end:
Tax collectors and prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God before you. When John came to you in the way of righteousness, you did not believe him; but tax collectors and prostitutes did. Yet even when you saw that, you did not later change your minds and believe him.
That’s harsh language. We still have prostitutes today, but “tax collectors” were public sinners, so today’s equivalent might be small-time loan sharks and gangbangers. Will the loan sharks and the prostitutes really enter the kingdom before us? How can Jesus say such things?
Remember the message of John the Baptist: the kingdom of heaven is near, so you must repent to prepare the way for the kingdom. And Jesus’ message was the same: “Repent, for the Kingdom of God is within reach”. The word we usually translate as “repent” actually means to change our minds and hearts, to make a U-turn and conform our actions to God’s will. The public sinners knew that their lives were a mess, so when John told them it was time to straighten out, they were able to take his message to heart. Many confessed their sins and committed to changing their lives. Thus they could enter the kingdom of Heaven. They were like the son who at first refused to obey but then had a change of heart and did as his father ordered.
What about the chief priests and the elders? Their hearts and lives did not appear to need changing. They obeyed the commandments, paid tithes, led exemplary lives. They weren’t public sinners. If their lives weren’t broken, why fix them? Well, let’s look at what the chief priests and the elders of the people actually did. The priests were in charge of the temple. People did pray in the temple, but if you went there, it would look a lot more like a slaughterhouse than a church or synagogue. Priests sacrificed many animals every day, for various reasons. At Passover, priests slaughtered tens of thousands of sheep. And every day, two animals were sacrificed for the emperor and the Roman army. The elders of the people were the Sanhedrin, which judged religious cases, including Jesus’ trial for blasphemy. Priests and elders were the elite, and were devoted to religious business as usual.
Like the prophets before them, both John and Jesus saw that the kingdom would not come about through killing animals or condemning blasphemers. The priests and the elders were wasting time and not doing God’s will. They were like the son in the parable who says he will do the father’s will but doesn’t actually do it.
It’s surprisingly easy for good people to fail to do God’s will. When I was young, I learned that Christianity was about having right beliefs, avoiding sin, and—for extra credit—developing your prayer life. So I read up on the right beliefs, behaved myself, and prayed in church. I still remember reading a 19th-century novel in which a certain woman is praised as a model Christian. I was mystified. The book never described her beliefs or mentioned that she prayed or went to church. She was just a kind lady who helped other people when she could, so how did she qualify as a good Christian? (I’m not making this up.)
When you’re stuck on one course of action, it’s hard to visualize any other way. When John and then Jesus accused them, the priests and the elders doubled down on the importance of their own jobs and their traditional ways. They failed to do God’s will and then they also failed to repent.
Eventually I did “get” the Gospel message of compassion. I understand now why the lady in the novel was a good Christian. I like to think that I am now repenting. So even if the prostitutes and the gangbangers are getting into the kingdom ahead of me, maybe there is still a place for me.