Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time, cycle A
Matthew 21:33-43
Some of you older people might remember how milk used to be delivered to one’s porch by a milkman. What you may not know is that the same was done, on a more limited basis, with coca cola. When I was about six one of our neighbors would get a case of coca cola in the classic bottles every week. My friend Rickey and I decided to steal a couple of bottles because it was there, I guess. I’m in good company, by the way, because Saint Augustine confessed to something similar. Neither of us had access to a bottle opener, so we simply smashed the neck of the bottles with a rock before we drank the coke. As far as I know we didn’t swallow any glass. Anyway, having had success with our plan, we decided to do it again. The next time we raided the coca cola, the back porch door opened and the owner came out and -- well, you can guess, the next few days were not pleasant.
I bring this up because the parable we just heard bothers me. Sure, we can look at it and see a reflection of salvation history -- God kept sending his messengers to the Jewish people, and they didn’t pay attention, then he sent Jesus, and they killed him, and so God gave his favor over to the gentiles and took it away from the Jews. The problem with this, in my mind, is that Jesus is talking to the chief priests and the elders, not the Jewish people. And certainly even they could say that they aren’t responsible for the sins of their ancestors any more than I am responsible for anything any of my ancestors did.
What bothers me about this story is that the behavior of the tenants is really hard to explain. Why on earth did they think there wouldn’t be retaliation of some sort for their actions? It’s so clear that even the chief priests and the scribes saw the point: “he will put those men to a wretched death”, they say.
And that’s where the parable speaks to me. There is a gap between what I know is right and how I actually live. It’s not a large gap, I hope, but it’s noticeable; and it’s the constant theme of my confessions. I don’t commit new sins, just repeat old ones. I get up every morning and think about all the things I have to do that day. I go to bed every evening knowing that not only did I not do them, but I could have. I wasted time. I consider my friends and family members and think maybe I should drop them a note or send an email or give them a call. It’s so easy nowadays. When I was in college in Washington D.C; to speak to my parents cost real money -- long distance calls were more expensive the longer the distance. I could send letters, but that wasn’t quite the same. Today you can not only speak to your friends on the other side of the country, but you can see them -- and all for nothing. And yet I don’t do what I know I should. I should fast once in a while. But I don’t; I like to eat and there are very few things I don’t like. Even going on a diet to lose a little weight is a burden. And yet fasting is something Christians are supposed to do, along with prayer. My almsgiving is probably alright because my wife takes care of that. If God asked me whether I was concerned about the poor, I would hope that God would notice that the money she gives to charity is really my money. I almsgive by proxy.
And if we think Jesus is talking about the various messengers of God that were rejected by the Jews, what parts of their message were rejected? God called his people to trust in him -- they didn’t, they wanted a king; and when they got a king, that didn’t work out so well. God called his people to repent -- to change their ways, not in a painful way, but to live a new way which involved looking after the widow and the orphan, and being attentive to the needs of your neighbor. And the loving father wanted his children to learn from him, to put him first in their lives. But they chose other Gods, just as we do. Yes, we choose other gods. And when we do so, we become addicted. Not just to drugs, or alcohol or gambling or pornography,. We become addicted to the internet, to television, to shopping, to watching sports-- so many things fill up our days and keep us from doing what God has made it clear we should be doing.
And how does that tie into the parable Jesus gives us today? The tenants acted as though there would be no retaliation for what they were doing -- stealing from the vineyard owner, and beating and killing his emissaries, even his son. And when I think about my life, and believe me, I’m not trying to be all humble about everything -- I know that someday there will be a reckoning. I’ll have to answer, not for the bad things I’ve done, which aren’t a lot, but for the good things I failed to do, for the difference between what could have been and what actually was. I’m not alone in this. The great saints had the same problem. They were all aware that as good as they were, they could do better.
What will you do when the vineyard owner comes and asks for his share of the crop? Will there be anything to share?
