Sermon 10/2/05
Give and Take - Matthew 21:33-46
(view lectionary notes for this text)
This week we come to the gospel of Matthew and find, for the third week in a row, a parable about the vineyard, and how, in it, we can see what the kingdom of heaven is like. First, we heard about laborers in the vineyard who worked different hours, but all received the same pay. Then last week, we read about two sons who were both asked by their father to go work in the vineyard. One said yes, but never went. The other said no, but later went anyway. Today we have a third vineyard story, one that takes a much more violent turn. Jesus tells us of a landowner who carefully readies a vineyard and leases it to tenants. At harvest time, he comes back to collect his produce, and sends his slaves to take his share. But the tenants beat, stone, and kills the slaves. The landowner sends more slaves, and the slaves are again murdered by the tenants. So the landowner sends his own son, guessing that the tenants will respect the son at least. But the tenants know that if a landowner has no heir, the tenants will gain the property. So they kill the son, hoping to win the inheritance for themselves. Jesus’ audience for this parable, the chief priests and elders in the temple, rightly guess that now the landowner will return and avenge his son’s death. Jesus concludes by stating that the kingdom of God is given to those who will produce fruit.
This is a strange parable. The behavior of the tenants is strange. Perhaps they resented the landowner getting crops from the land they had been working, but the setup they had was not unusual. It’s a model that is still used today, isn’t it? Everybody who earns a profit still has to pay a share to someone higher up the chain, it seems. But the tenants would not have gone without some fruit from the vineyard themselves. But the tenants seem to expect that the landowner will not be fair with them, and they want to take their due however they can get it, even if it means resorting to violence and murder. Perhaps they were right to expect to be cheated or misused as workers. Today, we generally expect as much, don’t we? Everyone seems to be out for themselves, protecting their own interests, and expecting others to do the same.
But Jesus points out that the gift of the kingdom of God is given to those who are producing fruit. Those who produce fruit get as a gift what the tenants were trying to take – part of the harvest, part of the kingdom. Jesus reminds us that the kingdom can’t be taken by us – it can only be given to us. I think we’ve become so used to having to take what we want. There’s not much that comes free these days, and when things are offered to us as free, we look for strings attached, the fine print that will tie us to an agreement we don’t want to make. So we take – we take from one another, we take from the earth, we take from those who can’t stop us from taking, because I think we’ve convinced ourselves that this is the only way we can get anything of value for ourselves. Is there another way?
The Chronicles of Narnia, you may know, children’s books by theologian C.S. Lewis, are very high on my list of favorite books, up there with Louisa May Alcott books, Barbara Kingsolver’s novels, and Harry Potter. I’m waiting with anticipation for the December release of a big screen version of the first book in the series, The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe, but I know it won’t be as good as the book, of course. The sixth book in the Chronicles is called The Magician’s Nephew, and this book is a book of beginnings, telling about how Narnia was created. If you read the book, you will find it full of stories that sound similar to stories you might have heard from someplace in the Bible. In one chapter, you’ll find a scene with a boy named Diggory, seeking an apple from a tree in the center of the garden. The garden is gated, and a sign on the gate reads, “Come in by the gold gates or not at all, Take of my fruit for others or forbear, For those who steal or those who climb my wall Shall find their heart's desire and find despair.” Diggory knows that the apple will save the life of his mother who is dying back home in London. But you’ll also find in the garden, a witch named Jadis, who climbs over the garden gate and takes and eats a fruit for herself, hoping it will give her eternal life. Diggory plans to give the apple to his mother, but the witch, having eaten herself, urges the child to also eat his apple. “You simpleton!” she says. “Do you know what that fruit is? I will tell you. It is the apple of youth, the apple of life. I know, for I have tasted it; and I feel already such changes in myself that I know I shall never grow old or die. Eat it, Boy, eat it.” But Aslan, the Christ-figure in the books, knows that the witch will not have the kind of eternal life she wanted. “That is what happens to those who pluck and eat fruits at the wrong time and in the wrong way,” he says, “The fruit is good, but [the eaters] loathe it ever after . . . All get what they want; they do not always like it." We can take from the vineyard of blessings that God spreads before us. But God has a better way, a much better way, where we receive as a gift what God wants to give us.
One of the things that has intrigued me as someone who has now served communion many times is watching how people partake of the bread. Some people seem hesitant, and tear off just a tiny piece, so small that it is then hard to dip it into the cup of juice without getting your fingers wet or loosing the bread into the cup altogether. Others start out seeking a small piece, but accidentally get a larger piece, and seem a little guilty for taking too much. Others seem to favor the crust of the bread, tearing a piece from the edge of the loaf. These folks clearly were not children who required crust-free sandwiches. And still others go straight for the middle, taking a big hunk of bread, right from the soft center. And some seem to find the perfect piece – not too big, not too small, just right, like Goldilocks and the Three Bears. I’ve wondered if this symbolizes how we feel about taking grace from God. Timid and afraid we’ll take too much love from God? Eager, and ready to dig in and have all we can get our hands on?
When I ran these thoughts by some of my colleagues, I received some insightful responses. Some of them conveyed to me that in their congregations, they would tear the bread themselves and put it into the hands of parishioners as they came forward to receive the bread and the cup. After all, they said, isn’t communion a gift of grace and love from God to us? To them, having to tear your own piece of bread means missing the symbolism that in communion, you receive a gift. What kind of gift is it if you have to take it yourself, tear it away from the loaf? Perhaps that’s why we have such trouble taking our own bread – God’s grace isn’t for the taking. It’s for the giving, and being received as a gift.
Today, the fruits of the vineyard are here before you, in tangible form, as we come to the table and share in Christ’s outpouring of love. In the rush of worrying about who gets what, and who gets how much, and how we can get more, we can get awfully caught up in taking everything we can for ourselves and keeping it close to us. Jesus asks you instead to wait, so that God can give you the fruits of the harvest, a share in God’s kingdom. It’s a gift to you, offered without price, meant for sharing, as we share in the table.
Today, when you come to receive, I ask you to hold your hands out, and be ready – God’s love will be placed right in your hands, the body of Christ, given for you. Amen.