Sunday, October 29, 2017

We Are What We Do

Sermon for Oct. 1, 2017 (posted late)
Matthew 21:23-32

I imagine each of us has a few stories we could share about how things are done, or were done, in our families growing up.  Families have norms and expectations, some spoken and some unspoken; some flexible and some not so much.  I remember in my family, especially at holidays when my grandparents would be visiting, the norm was that everyone was there for dinner and for conversation before and after.  If you were around, and you were more than about 12 years old, you were expected to be part of the circle. 
So I remember once, after my sisters and I had long since left home but were back for Christmas, I was talking with one of them about the two of us going out and doing something else after family dinner one night.  My sister got this shocked look on her face and said, “Do you think Mom will let us?”  I was 25 years old, and she was 30.  Of course, I don’t think my mother would have kicked us out of the house if we’d gone off to do something on our own.  But my sister and I also knew that wasn’t what our family did.  That kind of thing might be fine for other families, but it wasn’t what happened in our house.  For us, being in right relationship with each other carried certain expectations.  We didn’t have to earn our way into each other’s good graces, but being with each other was part of the family’s identity.  It helped us remember who we were, deep down.
Our Gospel reading today gives us a chance to reflect on the norms and expectations of our larger family, the family of God that gathers around this table each week.  In that reading, living out the ways of God’s family is called “righteousness.”  It’s one of those words preachers like to throw around as if everybody in the room understood it the same way, which I imagine we don’t.  All “righteousness” means is this: action that reflects right relationship with God.  And because God has the priorities we know God has, righteousness extends to actions that reflect right relationship with other people, too – especially those on the margins or those at the bottom of the social scale.
But I think when many of us hear that word, “righteousness,” we might hear it in terms of self-righteousness – considering yourself holier than the person next to you, or the person down the road, or the person on the other side of some issue.  That self-righteousness is also what the religious leaders are living out in today’s reading.  They come to Jesus clothed in authority though not in leadership, and they confront him about what he’s been doing.  Just before this story, Jesus has entered Jerusalem in triumph on Palm Sunday, and he’s overturned the tables of the money changers in the Temple, condemning them as thieves for gouging the poor peasants trying to buy sacrificial animals.  If you literally turn the tables on the religious establishment, you can expect some push-back.  So, the chief priests and the elders challenge Jesus, saying, “By what authority are you doing these things?” (Matthew 21:23).  Who appointed you to tell us where we’re falling short? 
So Jesus responds not by claiming authority but by shining the light of hard truth.  He confronts the leaders’ self-righteousness by asking them what they thought about John the Baptist’s teaching.  Now, that may seem to come out of nowhere; but if you remember, John’s teaching was all about action that reflects right relationship with God and neighbor.  When the religious leaders came out to see John, joining the crowds wanting to be baptized, John had yelled at the scribes and Pharisees, “You brood of vipers!  Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?  Bear fruit worthy of repentance.” (Matthew 3:7-8)  If you’ve got an extra cloak, give it to someone who doesn’t; and if you’ve got extra food, do the same (Luke 3:11).  John’s baptism was a baptism of repentance toward righteousness – turning away from self-centered behavior and turning toward right relationship with God and others.  So, Jesus holds the religious leaders accountable for the fact that they didn’t follow John’s lead and didn’t offer him their stamp of approval.  Instead of the path of righteousness, the religious leaders chose the path of self-righteousness.
The other reason we may turn away from a call to righteousness is that we often think that word applies only to special, holy people – people with better wiring than what we’ve got.  Mother Theresa – now there’s a righteous person.  I can’t measure up to that, right?  Righteousness sounds like a losing proposition because the deck is stacked against normal sinners like us.
Well, Jesus might confront us on that just a bit.  Righteousness isn’t perfection; righteousness is the choice you make today.  Jesus illustrates that in the parable he tells the religious leaders.  A father has two sons.  He tells the first son to go work in the vineyard.  Now, who knows what the son had planned for that day, but he clearly didn’t have it in mind to go work in the vineyard because he refuses to go.  Maybe he’s lazy, or maybe he’s bull-headed, or maybe he simply has other work that’s required of him – for whatever reason, he declines.  But then he thinks better of it, and goes out into the vineyard, and fulfills his father’s wishes.  Meanwhile, the father gives the same command to his second son.  This one says to his father, “I go, sir” – definitely the right answer.  And maybe he even has the right intention, planning to go just as soon as … whatever.  But he doesn’t follow through.  “Which of the two did the will of his father?” Jesus asks (Matthew 21:31).  The answer is easy … but it’s also really hard because it strikes pretty close to home.
Every day, we sinners get up and have to decide what path we’ll take.  Or, I should say, we get to decide which path we’ll take.  Yesterday’s success or failure is yesterday’s success or failure.  Every day, we’re offered the grace to start again.  Every day.  That’s why Jesus says to the supposedly holy religious leaders that the tax collectors and the prostitutes are coming into God’s kingdom ahead of them – because those tax collectors and prostitutes who’d become part of Jesus’ community were making the choice for right relationship with God and neighbor each day.  That’s what being part of a beloved community means:  Choosing to act out the values and norms of that community, that family, with each new day.  Righteousness isn’t an account we build up that eventually tips the scales and opens up the pearly gates to us; it’s making the choice to live as part of Jesus’ family today, and tomorrow, and the next day.  Righteousness isn’t what earns us a ticket to our heavenly home.  Righteousness reminds us where our home already is. 
So, what does that mean for you and me, here and now?  What I hear Jesus saying is this: Remember whose family you belong to.  Be clear about the values that guide you, and be sure your actions align with those values.  In this family, Jesus’ family, the primary value is love – love of God and love of neighbor.  And we believe that the model for practicing love is following the way of the cross.  As Paul writes in the second reading today, “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave.  And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.” (Philippians 2:5-8)  That’s love that gives itself away for the sake of the other.  And for members of Jesus’ family, every choice we make must spring from that value of self-giving love. 
It doesn’t matter whether the question of the moment is personal or public because Jesus expects us to be the same person in both settings.  That value of self-giving love needs to inform everything – how much time I spend with my wife and kids, or how much of my income I give away, or how deeply I listen to someone, or how our nation treats immigrants and refugees, or what steps we take to bring people out of poverty, or how we respond to people who kneel, or don’t kneel, during the national anthem.  Love has something to say about how we deal with each of those situations … and a thousand more.
Thankfully, love is also a work in progress.  Righteousness doesn’t require of us that we come before God with an unblemished record.  Righteousness doesn’t require of us that we get every answer right.  What righteousness requires of us is that, on this day, we choose to do what we can to live in right relationship with God and neighbor.  That’s who we are because, after all, we are what we do.

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