God’s Economy

Matthew 20:1-16       

I was told at the roundtable this week that this is a hard parable to like. Well, I think that was Jesus’ intention; he needed his listeners to be shaken up a bit. Consider the conversations that have been going on up to this point.

It was just a few verses ago that some people brought their children to Jesus. They wanted Jesus to lay his hands on them and bless them, which seems perfectly reasonable to us. But his disciples were all into crowd control. There were so many people who wanted to see Jesus, they felt the need to prioritize. They made themselves the gatekeepers – no one could come to Jesus except through them. And as far as they were concerned, there were no children getting through to see Jesus. They were too short. But Jesus saw what they were doing and said, “Hey - Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them; for it is to such as these that the kingdom of heaven belongs.” 

Then a rich young man came to him – the disciples let him through, I guess, and I don’t think it was because of his height. He wanted to know what good deeds he would need to do to inherit eternal life. Jesus said, “Well, you’re going to have to give away all your wealth,” and this young man said, “Ok, thanks,” and disappeared as fast as he could. He wasn’t expecting that answer, and now he would have to go find a second opinion.

After he goes, Jesus makes that comment about it being easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to pass into heaven – you’ve heard this one? You can tell by their reaction the disciples find this as alarming as we do. Rich men won’t get into heaven? That’s not what they had heard. Then Jesus utters those confounding words: Many who are first will be last, and the last will be first. For the kingdom of heaven is like this – and he launches into this awful parable.

If you have a bad reaction to the parable, that means it’s doing its job because a parable is meant to convict you. You are meant to feel it before you even understand what happened. With the parable of the laborers in the vineyard, you do feel it. And I think you can pin down the exact point at which you feel it.

It’s not at the point where he lines the workers up just so – the first last and the last first.

It’s not at the point where he hands each one of the one-hour-workers the usual daily wage – a denarius. Nope.

It happens right at the point where Jesus gives the first workers – those who have worked since the dawn’s early light – how much? A denarius.

Let’s note that a denarius was fair enough at the beginning of the day when they negotiated their terms. It was fair enough all day long under the hot sun. It was fair enough until that moment they saw the latecomers – the one-hour-workday folks – receive a denarius. At that point, their mental abacus started recalculating.

“Wait a minute … If these slackers get a denarius I must be getting more – maybe 12 times as much.” Suddenly, they thought they deserved much, much more.

You see, it’s not that it wasn’t enough. It’s just this ranking and ordering that we do. If these lesser folks are worth this much, I am surely worth more than I thought. If I am first, and they are last, I have something coming to me.

This idea that the first shall be last and the last shall be first really messes with our heads. It completely turns things upside down. Because we do a lot of ranking and ordering, and it confuses us to turn that upside down.

But, let’s consider the possibility that we might be thinking of this in too literal a sense. After all, Jesus spoke and taught in parables.

Perhaps he simply meant that in God’s economy there is enough. For everyone.

There is enough food and water for even the poorest. There is enough work for even the weak or disabled. There is enough time for even the children. There is enough.

Like manna that falls from the skies, the story Israel told about their sojourn in the wilderness when God was with them, God did not abandon them. In that time when they had nothing but God, there was enough. There was enough for each one, enough for each day.

The people of Israel had memories of plagues and natural disasters, times of want and times of plenty, and everything in between.  And they knew that the Lord had been with them through it all.  They knew from their experience that the Lord provides and that sometimes humans are their own worst enemies, when their insecurities and greed and jealousies get in the way of their well-being.

And they knew, just as some of us know, that when you are in your most inadequate state God is most present.  When everything else is cleared out of the way, God is there.  There is an old saying that has come up a few times recently in our roundtable discussions: God helps those who help themselves. But the amazing truth the scriptures tell is that God helps those who cannot help themselves.

The story of the manna in the wilderness is a testament of faith. The gospels, full as they are of parables like this one of the laborers in the vineyard, are testaments to faith. Our life stories, can be testaments to faith.

What does your life story look like if you tell it as a testament of faith? 

photo credit: Workers waiting for their paychecks. By Unknown Hanford employee. - Image N1D0028477 at Hanford Declassified Document Retrial System, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=24363672

Forgiveness

Matthew18:21-35

Did you ever hear the story of Alvin Straight?  Alvin lived in Laurens, Iowa with his daughter who looked after him. When he was 73 years old he set out on a 240-mile journey to see his estranged brother, Henry, in Wisconsin. Henry had recently had a stroke, Alvin heard. They had not spoken to each other in 10 years. Now, with a clear-eyed view of their mortality, Alvin felt the need to reconcile with Henry.

The only problem was Alvin didn’t have a driver’s license. Poor health and failing vision had forced him to give it up. But Alvin did not let that stop him. He hopped on his John Deere lawn tractor and hit the road. People thought he had gone off his rocker, but Alvin was determined to make his way to his brother somehow. It took him six weeks.

There was a movie made about Alvin’s story, called The Straight Story. We ought to watch it together sometime.

In the film, as he gets near Henry’s home he has an encounter with a priest who, it turns out, knows Henry. The priest says, “Henry never mentioned he had a brother.” Alvin says, “Neither one of us has had a brother for some time.”

We might call this the parable of the lawn tractor. Because I imagine if we really look, we can see ourselves in Alvin and Henry. Who among us has not, on occasion, found it easier to withhold forgiveness that would take what Alvin describes as “A hard swallow to our pride” that is sometimes needed for reconciliation?

Who among us has not mulled it over and decided, maybe I will call her tomorrow to say I’m sorry, but I don’t really care to have that conversation today?

Who among us has not nursed hard feelings and, every now and then, trotted the story out again to tell someone new so they can experience the outrage all over again? These sorts of things are happening all around us all the time. It happens between friends, it happens in families. It happens in workplaces. It happens within churches, and it happens sometimes between a congregation and the presbytery. I just heard a story the other day about a congregation who has been holding some resentment against the presbytery for a perceived slight that happened years ago.

When we replay these things in our memories, we might make slight alterations to the stories, so that the ones who are wrong are more clearly and completely in the wrong. And any fault of our own is gently erased and forgotten. Who among us has never done that?

The parable of the lawn tractor is not a bad one. Hearing it, we might remember times in our own lives where we have had a falling out with someone and just let it go. And when we do remember, the parable might make us realize that life is finite. And resentment is long. And forgiveness is … mysterious.

Alvin feels suddenly compelled to seek forgiveness from his brother Henry. For ten years it has been easier to push this problem into the background, but now this news of Henry’s stroke has forced him to realize he will not have infinite time and opportunities to do the thing that, deep in his heart, he knows he must do.

Even hard-hearted people have a soft, human core inside.

Alvin is now turned around, or repented, so completely that he will make this alarmingly risky and terribly uncomfortable journey in order to do the right thing at last.

The parable of the lawn tractor, together with the parable of the unforgiving slave, provide a rich context in which to consider the problem of forgiveness.

And, just as we know that we are not Alvin and Henry, and none of us (I hope) is planning on taking a lawn tractor vacation, we also should know that in Jesus’ parable, the king is not God and the unforgiving slave is not us. Nonetheless, the story has much to teach us, if we would have ears to hear.

Remember how this conversation started. Jesus and his friends have been discussing the process for working through a disagreement in the church. When you have been hurt by someone, when there has been a dispute, how do you move forward? Jesus lays out a process we would do well to follow. And here, as the conversation continues, it becomes clear that forgiveness is an essential part of that process.

Even if the one you are in dispute with rejects your overtures, even if that one becomes as a Gentile or a tax collector to you, in Jesus’ words, forgiveness is still a part of the equation.

So let’s consider this story of the unforgiving slave.

There was a kingdom where the ruler decided one day that he would reconcile accounts with all his slaves, and he had many, many slaves. One by one, the slaves were presented to him. There was one man who approached him who, according to the ledgers, owed the king a ridiculously huge fortune. He owed him more than he would earn in 150,000 years. Not kidding; that’s how much it was. There was no way in heaven or in hell or on earth that this man could repay it.

But he falls on his knees and says, “Please, lord, give me time – I will pay you back, I promise!”

The ruler of the kingdom thinks: I could sell this man and all his family and at least get something out of it. But instead, he is moved with compassion, and he lets him go. He says, “The debt is forgiven.” The slave has a clean slate.

And, in a way, we see this as like the unfathomable forgiveness bestowed on us by God. We are forgiven, thanks be to God. Even though God could hold us accountable for every shortcoming, flaw, and plain act of evil we commit, God chooses forgiveness.

Now. This forgiven slave leaves, free of his burden. But on his way, he encounters a fellow slave who happens to owe him some money – a considerable sum, a few months wages. Frankly, in comparison to the debt he has just been forgiven, it is nothing. But it is something to this guy. It might mean the difference between being able to remodel his kitchen, or not.

Just like that, he has forgotten his own debt. He has forgotten the fate that he just narrowly escaped. He has forgotten, as he sends this poor man to debtor’s prison that “there, but for the grace of God, go I.”

How easily we forget our own need for forgiveness. Especially when we have the opportunity to withhold forgiveness from someone else.

The parable reminds us that, in our own heads, we are always the victim of any circumstance. Maybe, though, when we are confronted with our own mortality, we can be jolted into seeing our own need to be forgiven and to offer forgiveness to others.

When Alvin Straight realized one day that his brother could die, he knew that he could die too. And that changed the way he looked at life. Why had he withheld forgiveness for all those years? What could he possibly have been thinking?

The fact is, the thought of death can scare us into doing the right thing. I have no doubt that the ending of this parable of the unforgiving servant is meant to give us a good scare. And, since we know God to be all-forgiving, I feel sure that God would be able to forgive the slave even this act of cruelty. But the real point of both these parables – the lawn tractor and the unforgiving servant – is this: why wait?

You are forgiven now. God does not withhold forgiveness. In God’s realm, forgiveness is free and abundant, and if we choose to live in God’s realm, we also will forgive freely, and abundantly.

It’s a choice we have. We always have this choice.

In God We Trust

Romans 13:8-14

Matthew 18:15-20

Have you ever been lured into clicking on the link to a buzzfeed quiz? You know, those spectacularly effective timewasters that somehow make you think it would be useful to know what Disney Princess you are?

I confess I have – many times. When I am in a procrastinating mood I am especially susceptible to this sort of click bait. And why not? Shouldn’t I have a handle on what truth my Panera preferences reveal about me?

We are living in an age where we look to Buzzfeed quizzes to tell us something about ourselves, and I don’t know whether I should laugh or cry. It’s not only the quizzes. Buzzfeed, along with other purveyors of self-help pablum, provide an abundance of internet articles that promise to tell us something we absolutely must know for the sake of improving our lives – in small, easy, bites.

If you scroll through your facebook feed, you will probably find headings like “12 life-changing things to do this month” or “11 fool-proof ways to make a good impression.” These are real headlines, by the way. Stuff that lures you in with the promise of something too good to be true.

Yet for those who are diligently working their way through Paul’s letter to the Romans along with me, I think it’s safe to say there are no easy scripts to follow when it comes to living this faith in Christ. I hope I don’t sound like an Eeyore when I say that. I took the “Which Winnie the Pooh character are you?” quiz, and I am not. It’s just that, even though we would like to have an easy set of steps to follow, there is no simple formula for success as a Christian.

If this passage from Romans were published as a Buzzfeed article, the heading might be, “5 ways to live a holier life!” And Jesus’ words from Matthew 18 could be titled, “4 Steps to Renewing your Relationships!”

In fact, the words of Jesus in this passage from Matthew do seem like a pretty straightforward set of steps to follow when you believe that someone has sinned against you.

First, go tell that person, one on one, in private. You know, be direct. Instead of letting your displeasure slip out in drips of sarcasm, just take the person aside and let them know, as kindly as possible, that you have been hurt by them. If you have ever done something like this, maybe you know that it can be a very helpful experience. Oftentimes, especially among friends, it provides an opportunity to clear the air.

But it is also possible that the other person will not accept any responsibility for the problem. Because maybe this person, like you and me and everyone we know, has a knack for rationalizing away their failures. In which case, you might find yourself moving on to the next step: take one or two others with you to support your claim. Maybe the numbers will have an effect on them.

But if the person still rejects your complaint, Jesus says it is time to take it to the church as a whole. Now the church is being asked to serve as a kind of judicial body. It is a responsibility that the church rarely wants to take on anymore; too many bad experiences, I guess. But it is a responsibility that, in a simpler age, the church had no embarrassment about handling.

Once I was going through old session minutes at a church – and when I say old I mean dating from the early 20^th century. Beautiful hand-written narratives. I came across an account of a meeting where a member was brought before the session to address charges of public drunkenness. There were no lawyers involved. There was no crime under discussion, but it was a matter of conduct that was deemed to be inappropriate for a church member. The session had the right – and responsibility, they believed – to be a part of this process of rehabilitating this man.

There are two things that can happen when a person is brought up on charges by the church: the person can accept the right of the church to do this, or the person can reject it. Anyone who has been charged – pastors, elders, or any member – can decide for themselves whether they want to subject themselves to the process. If they decide to stick it out, then they can all begin the hard work of penitence and reconciliation, hopefully for the good of the church as a whole. When it works well, the process strengthens the church. But if they do not choose to subject themselves to the process, they can simply leave. They are removed from the membership rolls and the community, and they may do whatever they want to do, go wherever they want to go. They may become, in Jesus’ words, as a Gentile or a tax collector to you.

So, then. That’s that. Or is it?

Several years ago, when our denomination was going through some acutely painful disagreements, many congregations were deciding whether they wanted to sever their connection with us. Many of them did. It was painful. It was like a divorce, that kept happening again and again and again. As we elected a Moderator for the 2012 General Assembly, it was a subject on our minds. What were we to do about those congregations who wanted to have nothing more to do with us?

One of our candidates spoke to the issue in a way that was quite memorable: We should do all we can to reconcile with them. Every effort should be made to work through our disagreements. But if, in the end, they still want to leave, there is nothing we can do to stop them. We can’t coerce them. Let them go. But let’s leave the light on for them. Should they ever choose to come back, they will be welcome.

In other words, or as Jesus might say, treat them as a Gentile or a tax collector. Think about it, guys. How did Jesus treat Gentiles and tax collectors?

Let them separate themselves from the fellowship. Take them off the rolls if that is what they want. But leave the light on. If they ever look back, they will know we are ready to welcome them with open arms.

So, here is the point I want to get to: This is about putting our trust in God. Through Christ, God has given us the community of the church, in which God is present with us. Our relationships with one another in this community are extensions of our relationship with God. We need one another to live this covenant life of Christianity. We need to help one another live lives of faith, practice compassion, be like Christ to the extent we are able. We are accountable to one another and accountable for one another, meaning how we treat one another and how we support one another both matter a great deal.

As much as Buzzfeed tries to tell me, and as much as I would like to believe, that following 5 easy steps will make my life just the way I want it to be, I know it’s not really the case. It’s a life-long journey, and I need you to help me be the person God intends me to be – to be generous both spiritually and materially, to live with gratitude and mercy, to speak and act in support of justice for all of God’s children. I need to put my trust in you, to help me be that person. You need to help me, and I need to do the same for you.

The importance of trust in the life of a Christian community cannot be overstated. It is essential if we are serious about being the church of Jesus Christ. And like anything of great value, it must be guarded and cared for.

Trust in God, and the Spirit will give us strength to trust one another, in Jesus’ name.

Photo Credit: By User:Lincolnite - un contributeur du wikipedia dans la langue anglaise - File:VT Supreme Court.jpg à la page http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:VT_Supreme_Court.jpg, CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=16997290