Intro: As I immersed myself in today’s lectionary texts, reflecting on our fall theme “Room for All” and on our congregational life, what emerged were three “words” for us today. Foundational words for our community, first from Jewish scriptures, then from Paul’s letter to the church at Philippi, and then thirdly from the Gospel of Matthew. Umm, a three part “Trinitarian” sermon – you never expected that from me, eh? … Let’s pray: “May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable to you, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.” Amen.
What a bunch of whining, short-memoried jerks, those Israelites in the desert. So quickly forgetting The Lord’s deliverance out of slavery in Egypt, so quickly forgetting how The Lord worked marvels at the Red Sea. Indeed, just the chapter before this morning’s Exodus text, they were hungry, and so they railed against Moses that at least back in Egypt they had food. But then Yahweh provided meat and manna. And now in chapter 17, they’re thirsty. Well, of course they’re thirsty – it’s the desert, for heaven’s sake! But haven’t these people experienced numerous times the merciful presence and care of Yahweh?! So short their memory?! And then there’s poor Moses, caught in the middle. Stuck between the whole thirsty congregation of Israelites in the desert, on the one hand, who already had forgotten that The Lord had just provided manna, never mind liberation from slavery. And on the other hand, Yahweh, whom Moses had experienced as not suffering fools gladly. (It was actually the apostle Paul who recommended doing that “suffering”.) After imploring the congregation to stop testing The Lord, Moses cried out to The Lord “What shall I do with this people? They are almost ready to stone me.” And yet once again, The Lord gave instructions to provide for Yahweh’s people: “strike the rock, and water will come out of it, so that the people may drink.” Moses did so, and then concluded rhetorically “Is The Lord with us or not?”
Okay, perhaps we could be a bit more understanding: the wilderness of Sinai is chillingly desolate and incredibly harsh, even today. And besides, alongside this story, written centuries after that time, are the many Psalms and other Biblical literature that retell the story of Yahweh’s liberation of and faithfulness to the Israelites. This morning’s Psalm is an excellent example: “we will tell to the coming generations the glorious deeds of the Lord, and his might, and the wonders that he has done.” Psalm 78 then recounts the liberating work of The Lord in bringing the people out of slavery and into the promise land.
God’s mercy, faithfulness, steadfast love. Our Lord God sustains, with food and drink, yes — but with so much more. The Divine Presence never leaves us. Do we live in this truth? What does it mean for us, personally and congregationally to live fully within the assurance that the Divine will always be present with us?
Several times during the past ten years I’ve worshipped with a congregation in the dusty city of Sincelejo, a provincial capital in northern Colombia where feudalism is alive and well. The area’s legacy is one of slavery, and one of an extreme economic abyss between the rich and the poor. The rich landowners not only control huge amounts of land and thus the economy of the region, but also the political and judicial systems. This legacy has made for much armed conflict and war between private armies, paramilitary groups, and guerrilla forces. Until recently, 60% of all peasant land had been abandoned.
The church I’ve worshipped with, Remanso de Paz, is a congregation of peoples descended from African and indigenous slaves, small farmers and peasants who were forced to abandon their fields and farms about 12 years ago when their village and their congregation suffered a terrible massacre at the hands of paramilitary forces, a tragedy that affected virtually every family in the congregation. The survivors fled, the congregation scattered. Yet in the midst of upheaval and pain beyond belief, the congregation’s pastor sensed that God was calling her to gather the congregation, in the city where they had taken refuge.
Today, Remanso de Paz has a thatched roof structure where around 200 people gather for worship several times per week. On Sunday their worship service can last for up to 6 hours. And when they gather for worship, they “sing the story”, not out of a purple book kept under their chairs, but from their hearts. It’s their story of pain and loss, and of God’s presence and mercy. Here’s a clip.
This is a story I want to tell / it happened not very far away
we were on our land, in the earth that gave us birth / land of prosperity and blessing
and life turned upside down due to a tragic war / at the moment it was hard to face / the despair
and the great sorrow / for those who had been mutilated
so we fled to a nearby city / where the Lord took us by the hand / and consoled our lives
and then the Lord said to us, “my servants, I have brought you here; / you must gather, you must be united.”
So, let us cry together dear sisters and brothers / not of sadness but rather of enthusiasm,
For the God of the heavens has protected us / and takes us by the hand
And now today we can give testimony of the wonders of our God.
The clear testimony from both Jewish scriptures and from the Remanso de Paz congregation is that no matter what, the Divine presence is always with us, and within us.
The call for congregational unity in
the Remaso de Paz anthem along with the reminder of the Divine presence were made by the Apostle Paul 2000 years ago in his letter to the church at Philippi. Our lectionary text for today – the first half of chapter 2 – consists of general admonitions around congregational life, with a very early Christian hymn inserted later in the middle of this passage. This Christological poem, likely sung in worship, deserves a sermon all to itself, so I’ll leave that for another Sunday and reflect today on Paul’s community admonitions and instructions before and after the hymn.
But first of all, who was this community of Christ-followers to whom Paul wrote this letter? We don’t know details, but it likely shared characteristics with other “congregations” in Asia Minor – a majority would be former gentiles who had become convinced of Paul’s message about Jesus the Christ and the one true God. There also would have been some Jewish followers of Jesus. At Philippi, perhaps just a very few. And while some of the Philippian congregation may have been people of means – like Lydia the textile merchant – the majority would have been living in various levels of poverty. Some would have been slaves. Philippi had been established as a military town, and in Paul’s time, had become a retirement community for Roman soldiers and their families. The group of Christ-followers there was small, not well established.
To this emerging group that we today often call “the early church”, Paul wrote: “If then there is any encouragement in Christ, any consolation from love, any sharing in the Spirit, any compassion and sympathy, 2make my joy complete: be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. 3Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. 4Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others. 5Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus…. 12Therefore, my beloved, just as you have always obeyed me, not only in my presence, but much more now in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; 13for it is God who is at work in you, enabling you both to will and to work for his good pleasure.”
Paul was clearly concerned with unity in this congregation – unity of thought and unity of behaviour. He repeats this admonition with various words. While given in generalities, the admonition for unity in the community had very practical applications. Unity cannot be achieved or maintained if individuals think only of their own interests or care only for their own pride. Unity requires that all share a fundamental concern for the common good.
Let’s hear the core admonition again: “Be of the same mind-set of Christ Jesus, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others.”
I have to make a confession: even though I was raised to always put others before myself – does anyone else here remember the little Bible school ditty “J.O.Y.”, joy? To have J.O.Y., joy, you had to put Jesus first, Yourself last, and Others in between – even though that recipe for joy was drilled into me at church and at home, I have always had difficulty putting others’ needs and interests before mine. I frequently struggle with not putting my desires and opinions first and foremost, the most important, before those of others. And I’m often not successful; just ask Jacqui. In addition, there have been times when I’ve put my “selfish ambitions” way ahead of my church community.
So even though Paul’s admonition is quite general, it’s nothing easy. What does it mean to have the same mind-set of Christ? I think we know in general what that means, but practically? Toward our sisters and brothers in the church? And what about “look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others”? Putting others first, putting your community before your own ambitions. This is all about seeking the common good of our community – in our congregation, our city, and our world.
On a global level, we here in the north continue to put our interests and ambitions before others. “Live simply so others may simply live” was a mantra of the 60s and 70s. While in terms of economic systems and what we do with our money it may be simplistic, more recently with the environmental realities of our Mother Earth, it has taken on a new literal meaning. “Live simply so others may simply live.” Most climatologists agree that there is a direct link between our global north’s burning and use of oil and the increased temperature of the oceans, which in turn is threatening island nations and coastal communities around the world with flooding. Many scientists agree that our burning of oil has caused the extreme changes of weather in many parts of the world, thus reducing vulnerable people’s capacity to grow their own food and resulting in even more food insecurity and poverty. But how much do we care? Theoretically, of course we care a lot. But do we care enough to change how we live? Are we willing to live simply so others may simply live?
A month or so ago, Al Armstrong made a clarion call on climate change on TUMC’s facebook page, that I think should be printing in Place of Meeting so that the whole congregation can read it. After summarizing both the science of climate change and its disastrous effects on Earth, Al wrote: “Climate change is an issue of justice across many dimensions. First, the most affected people -the global poor – have had almost no contribution to the problem. Second, the problem caused by our species is destroying and impacting every other species. Third, the generations impacted by it (our children) really have had no fault for it…. If we really lived with the realities of climate change I think we’d be having different services and ceremonies.” End of quote. In short, we’d live differently. With passion he invited dialogue among TUMCites, with a view to community action. Faye Tiessen and more recently Peter Voth have also given energy and passion in bringing this reality before us.
Given these realities, Paul’s words to the congregation at Philippi take on a whole new meaning: “Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others.” I’m forced to confess that I actually like how I live, the comforts I have, the opportunity to travel, enjoy life. Yet if we are one world community, if we are to truly put others first…. [Sigh] Al’s words were prophetic; will we hear them?
And then we have Paul’s final words in our Philippians text. “Now in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; 13for it is God who is at work in you, enabling you both to will and to work for his good pleasure.” Paul recognises that his admonition for unity is framed in general terms. The Philippians need to work out the practical details. And as with our earlier texts from Exodus and the Psalms, God, the Divine is present within, “
enabling you” says Paul, “both to will and to work”. So then how we act in unity, how we act for the common good, Paul says, is “working out our salvation.” How we act for the global common good in view of horrific climate change is part of our salvation. What we do about unity in very practical ways here at TUMC is also part of our salvation.
And our Gospel text for today is also about salvation. The gospel of Matthew, written around 25 years after Paul’s letter to the Philippians, highlights and emphasizes much more than the other gospels the contrast between Jesus and the Jewish religious leaders. This is core to Matthew’s presentation of Jesus as the Jewish Messiah, as the fulfillment of the law, and to emphasise the guilt of those who reject Jesus. Thus, the relentless animosity between Jesus and the Jewish leaders is an in-house conflict, and Matthew employs extreme comparisons to draw attention to the differences between Jesus and his fellow Jewish religious leaders. “You hypocrites, you brood of vipers!”, is how Matthew’s Jesus calls his opponents, the Jewish religious leaders. It’s quite similar to modern Mediterranean and Arab cultures where brothers and best friends argue vehemently, using name-calling and constant hyperbole. We in the west are much more sedate. Still, it’s like when Doug Johnson Hatlem and I argue. While we agree on 85% of all matters relating to faith and life, we sure have vehement arguments about the other 15%. Jesus’ words to and about the Jewish religious leaders in Matthew are about that 15%.
So with that context, let’s look at our lectionary text in the Gospel of Matthew. It comes from the beginning of three chapters, 21-23, where Jesus’ conflict with his opponents reaches a climax. These chapters begin by Jesus cleansing the temple, rousing the ire of the Jewish religious leaders. Then, even though they’ve frequently witnessed Jesus’ miracles, they continue to refuse to believe Jesus is the Messiah. The “two sons” parable in our lectionary text is unique to Matthew; it’s not in the other gospels. Jesus likens his fellow Jewish religious leaders to those who agree to do what their father (God) requires, but fail to do so. He ends by claiming that the most despised of sinners – tax collectors and prostitutes – will enter into the kingdom ahead of them.
“What do you think?” Jesus asked his opponents. “A man had two sons; he went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work in the vineyard today.’ 29He answered, ‘I will not’; but later he changed his mind and went. 30The father went to the second and said the same; and he answered, ‘I go, sir’; but he did not go. 31Which of the two did the will of his father?” The religious leaders responded, “The first.” Jesus said to them, “Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you.
This clearly isn’t one of Jesus’ hard-to-understand parables. It’s right there – in your face. “Which of the two did the will of his father?” Even Jesus’ opponents couldn’t avoid the right answer: the first. The one who went, even though he had said no. The point: Actions, not words are what matter. Now, we’re not talking about a typical scene at our house when dinner is ready: “Derek, Christopher – come for dinner.” And they respond, “coming” – but don’t. No, this is about actions in and toward God’s Reign, or to use Marilyn’s image from several Sundays ago, “a beautiful grassy meadow”. Our faith community is at the core of this divine Reign – a redeemed community of commitment, of peace and justice, and of support and safety, of forgiveness and restoration. In this meadow, in God’s Reign, your verbage, your words of assent, don’t count. Your action responses are what count. Your actions for and in God’s Reign are determinative, rather than your superficial words. 1
We could easily and authentically apply this scripture to our global community reality of catastrophic climate change and then ask whether we in the global north are like the second son who said “Yes. Yes, I’ll do it” but does nothing. That would be a true application. Action, not words. “Live simply so that others may simply live.” However, I’d like us to look at the tax collectors and prostitutes. They believed, in contrast to the religious leaders, and given the context of the parable, they acted. And for this, for their action, they, the most despised of Jesus’ culture, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you – the religious leaders. Note, that’s “ahead of”, not instead of. But still, prostitutes in the Divine meadow. Hated tax collectors in God’s Reign.
A story of the hated and despised today: Every other Friday night, a group gathers for worship in the basement of a downtown Toronto church. Many are men who served prison sentences for offending sexually, some against children. They meet together for worship and fellowship there because they’re not welcome in most congregations. They are a community forged out of pain, not strength. They call themselves “Dismas Fellowship”. Dismas is a safe and welcoming place where ex-prisoners, friends and volunteers from the faith community can experience Christian community. They meet to find community and grow in God’s love. Anyone and everyone is welcome and affirmed, regardless of past offenses or religion, because they deeply recognise that “we are all offenders”. At every service they pray: Dear God, In your mercy remember me and forgive me for the wrongs I’ve done. In your grace, set me free of my deep fears and resentments. In Your mercy remember me. Melt the cold, hard places of my heart, release the dark fears of my soul, and allow me the grace to surrender this day to your loving care. Amen. And in their fellowship they find the strength and accountability to continue living out their words. Life actions in God’s Reign. They have limits, boundaries around their lives. For safety. Yet, there they are: Prostitutes in God’s Reign.
And perhaps we are all prostitutes, sinners in the Meadow, in the Divine redeemed community, the church. And we belong, not because of our words, or our perfection, but due to our present mind-set and actions. As Paul admonished, “Have the same mind-set of Jesus. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others” – putting others first — both in our global community and here at TUMC. And ultimately, we both rest in and act out of the deep truth that Yahweh, God, the Divine, Creating and Loving Spirit never leaves us. Rocks are struck, and no matter what, God continues to be at work in us as we work out our own salvation. Amen.
1 An extra contextual paragraph omitted from the preached version: Now the context here is about John the Baptist. The text continues: “32For John came to you in the way of righteousness and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes believed him; and even after you saw it, you did not change your minds and believe him.” John the Baptizer preached a return to radical righteousness due to his belief that Yahweh God was soon to intervene in human history in a spectacular way to right all t
he wrongs, to establish justice on behalf of the oppressed. And Jesus shared John’s Jewish apocalypticism. So not believing, as the Jewish religious leaders didn’t, meant refusing to believe the truth of the need for a more radical righteousness in order to prepare for the coming apocalypse.