Proper 22 2014

Proper 22 2014

Our readings today seem to follow a kind of theme—certainly there is the vineyard theme (not so much in the Philippians reading)—but there is this more important theme of integrity, promise and entitlement.

See, in Isaiah’s reading, we have this allegory of God preparing Israel like a vineyard. God cultivates the ground, builds walls, sets up the press, and tends the growth of the grapes. Yet, for all that was done to make sure that the grapes were sweet seemed to be for nothing…because, somehow they all turned out sour.

Obviously, Isaiah is talking about the relationship between God and Israel. As we know from many of the books of the prophets, Israel had a habit of forgetting who they were as God’s people. They seemed to forget that God had brought them out of Egypt, and slavery, and given them their land. What’s more, Israel had made a covenant with God, that they would follow the Laws that God gave them, and not worship idols.

Well, as is evidenced in this particular reading, Israel has once again not lived up to that promise, and God—in the language of Isaiah—is like a vineyard owner who is surprised that all of the work that was done to grow sweet grapes didn’t turn out. In other words, God had given Israel everything they needed to be a successful, self-sufficient nation. But, for whatever reason, Israel couldn’t hack it, and got lured away by other things, and began to fail.

Our Gospel reading, interestingly enough, also takes up this vineyard theme—but with a bit of a twist. God is still the owner of the vineyard—but, now Israel is like tenets renting the vineyard. And when the owner (God) sends slaves to retrieve his produce; the tenets beat the slaves and refuse to give over the produce. Not only do they beat these slaves, but another set of slaves; and eventually they even kill the owner’s son when he is sent in behalf of the owner.

When Jesus asks his audience what they think the owner will do after the tenets had killed the son; we’re not terribly surprised when they say that the owner would have the tenets put to death, and would rent the vineyard to other tenets.

Jesus agrees that this would happen, but points out that this is what will happen with the kingdom of God. He says, the kingdom will be taken away from those who previously had it, and will be given to people who produce the fruits of the kingdom.

Effectively, Jesus is calling this group out—this religious elite. Effectively he says the same thing we heard him say in last week’s Gospel reading—cultural and religious heritage are no guarantee for receiving the kingdom of God… So, whether you’re a kippah-ed Hassidic Jew, a fish-eating Roman Catholic, or a Southern Baptist who is too frightened to do anything—none of it gets you any gold stars… What’s more, he indicates that because these Pharisees lean on their heritage rather than trying to live into the heart of God’s Law—the kingdom is going to be given to others whose lives do reflect the heart and Spirit of God…

This is good news for us, not necessarily good news for these Pharisees.

Finally, in his letter to the Philippians, Paul is laying out his religious credentials. He’s Hebrew through-and-through; he knows the Law, he was a Pharisee—and as a persecutor of the Church, he says he was zealous…

His point is that even though these claims meant something to the religious elite of Israel—they’re far from the most important thing—and that is being in love with Jesus Christ.

So, just as we see in the Isaiah reading, and the Gospel reading—Paul is telling the believers in Philippi that being believers—being people of faith is not about how good we are at ‘doing religion.’ It is, and always has been a matter of the heart.

We know this. We know it intuitively, and it’s why we don’t go to certain churches, and aren’t part of certain other traditions. It’s so simple, in fact, that our kids understand it (often better than adults), and is why they are quick to point out when they see a disconnect between what we say and what we do.

Anyway, for as simple as this idea that our faith is a matter of the heart is easy to understand, (effectively, loving God, and living like it mattered) it’s not quite so easy to live into, or incorporate. Because, as it turns out, maintaining a living and vital faith really isn’t such an easy task. Yet, because most of us have had, at least, some experience of God’s love and Presence in our lives; we still know that for as difficult as it might be, it’s worth it… We don’t need to be brought out of slavery in Egypt to know the importance of being children of God.

 When I was getting things together to write this sermon, I was reminded of one of the stories from Arthurian Legend. If the fact that all three of my sons are named after Knights of the Round Table weren’t a clue; I’m a fan of King Arthur Legends.

Well, I got to thinking about these connections between the readings, and I remembered this story about King Leodegrance—the father of Guinevere, and a kind of mentor early in Arthur’s reign. He also gave Arthur the Round Table, incidentally…

So, after years of warring with rebel kings who didn’t accept Arthur’s authority (apparently they didn’t think pulling a sword from a stone was a credible way to become king); Arthur was finally settling into a time of peace. Apparently, during one of their conversations, Arthur asked Leodegrance where all of his knights were since there wasn’t a war going on. The king said that he’d sent them out to quest. He explained that when warriors are idle, and not regularly tested, they lose their edge—but not just their fighting edge, he said, but they also lose heart and their attentiveness to virtue, and all of the the other things that really matter…

Some of you may already know that I’m a fan of martial arts, and have studied a few disciplines for about 12 years now. And (just a bit more self-disclosure) I also, almost, always have with me a paper with the 7 virtues of Bushido (the Warrior’s Code).

I don’t do this because I’m violent and like to fight, necessarily… I mean, the seven virtues are: Integrity; Respect; Courage; Honor; Compassion; Sincerity; and Loyalty—virtues that aren’t exclusive to samurai, at all. In fact, I carry them because they challenge me to always try to be better—that’s the way of the warrior, always be better. I know serious athletes understand this idea.

But the samurai code is meant to challenge a person to believe in virtue; to always live from the center of that belief; and to live as if that belief mattered and made a difference. So, it reminds me to take seriously the way I try to live out my faith…

But it’s only in having that faith tested in day to day life, with any number of challenges that come my way, that I find out if those virtues are really part of me…or, still just ideals on a piece of paper. I also think that because the bushido code comes from a different cultural and religious perspective, rather than a Western Christian one; I suppose it forces me to look at myself through a different lens. So, I don’t get to see if I’m just good at Christianity—I have to see if my faith, and all that it requires of me, is substantive enough to measure up—even outside of the Christian worldview…  

Interestingly enough, peaceful, lovely St. Francis actually wanted to be a knight before God called him. He was a fan of the stories of King Arthur, too, in fact.

 He was actually on his way to the crusades when God called him to religious life. Apparently, he often joked that the friars were his knights of the round table. (true story)

Okay…So, how do—questing knights, vineyards, and the inheritance of the kingdom of God not being about about entitlement—fit together? I have no idea…

No… Actually, I think they fit together quite effectively, and here’s how:

First, we need to realize that we’re very fortunate people—like, fortunate in the same way that Charlie Bucket was fortunate enough to find the golden ticket, and become the heir to Willy Wonka’s Chocolate factory. Like Charlie, we’ve become heirs to something wonderful that we have no entitlement to—the kingdom of God.

But, at the same time, we have to be really careful that we don’t take for granted this free gift, in the same way most of our culture takes for granted things that are free… Because, just as this gift was given to us because others weren’t considered worthy of it—who knows what it means for us if we take it for granted? I don’t know that it means loss of our salvation, but I would at least imagine that something in us would be lost. Perhaps, it would mean we would have a harder time recognizing God’s Presence in the world…who knows? But we shouldn’t take the gift of God’s kingdom for granted…

Secondly, along with gratitude for the gift of God’s kingdom, we need to understand that faith is a matter of the heart. Our faith is about love for God and for everyone else—but for as simple a statement as it seems, there has to be real substance for it to be anything more than just words.

So, our love of God and our love of people—literally our faith—has to be out there. Because as long as it stays in here, it never gets tested—and like knights without a quest, we lose our edge. What’s more, when we’re tested (even if we fail the test, sometimes); hopefully we take the opportunity to learn how we might be better next time.

The point is, if the Church is going to mean anything outside of itself—like, if we’re hoping that all of the stuff we hold onto as important is to be taken seriously in the world. Then it means that the true people of faith are going to have to step-up, and live Christian faith—not as something “precious” and mawkish—but as something that is transforming, deep, refreshing and lively. But this is an understanding and a perspective that begins with a choice: will this building contain all that St. John’s is—all that God has given us to offer in Christ’s name? (Love, acceptance, the kingdom) Or, will this be the sacred space where we come to give thanks to God for all of the abundance of gifts bestowed on each one of us; and then go through these doors and be love; be faith; be the Church, the children of God who are inheritors of a kingdom that we don’t deserve.

Whatever choice we make, it all starts (here) in our hearts; and really it’s a choice we have to make every day, maybe more often than that… But whatever our life will show for the choice we make; it’ll be incarnated outside of this building…out there, where we find out what we’re made of—and, where the world has the chance to meet Jesus in us. Maybe that sounds overwhelming…but, I’ll say this: even if we’re not sure we’re good at it—good at living out our faith; if we’re willing to at least be open to trying, I think, even that would be considered fruits worthy of the kingdom of God…