God’s justice and mercy isn’t fair… isn’t unreasonably gracious

Let me share up-front three things we can take home to think and pray about this week: our God is bigger than we are and larger than any particular passage in our Bible.  God’s compassion and mercy are beyond what we would consider reasonable.  And, the biblical examples we have of God’s extra-ordinary forgiveness compel us to greater acts of charitable love and reconciliation that we might tend toward on our own.

            Today’s readings, particularly the selections from Jonah (Jonah 3:10-4:11) and the Gospel according to Matthew (20:1-16), continue to reinforce themes we’ve been hearing each Sunday this month: compassion, mercy, forgiveness, and reconciliation and restoration.  And, again, the message is delivered with an edge that is meant to surprise and unsettle us.  In each case, we are shown a God who acts not according to our expectations of fairness and justice, not according to our sense of entitlements based on good works, but on God’s own terms, exceptionally generous in grace.

JONAH’S FRUSTRATION

Let’s consider what we’ve heard of Jonah this morning.  First, a little context….  God has called the chosen people of Israel to be a blessing to everyone on earth, even those who aren’t Jewish (e.g., Gen 12:1-3). The book of Jonah is traditionally read on the afternoon of Yom Kippur (the holiest day of theJewish liturgical year - the “Day of Atonement” - coming up at the end of the first week of October) to encourage period of reflection and repentance.  Also important to call to mind is that the city in question, Nineveh, was the capital of an empire (Assyria) that had caused much suffering for Israel.  Jonah considers Nineveh an archenemy deserving of the full fury of God’s wrath.  Ironically, Jonah, a prophet of the chosen people of God, who presumably preaches a lot about the need for repentance and God’s mercy, is about to grapple unsuccessfully with both.  This is very humbling for those of us in the professional ‘professing’ business… and, frankly, should be for any Christian presuming to preach about the ‘good news’ to others.

Jonah is sent on a mission to warn the city that God has seen their evil and plans to deal with them accordingly.  From the beginning Jonah resists, we might imagine this is because he is jealous of his relationship with God and he is already aware that if he fulfills this mission, it might mean forgiveness for these folks who have harmed his own tribe.  The story before today’s reading recounts Jonah’s humorous and ridiculous journey of resistance (not that any of us can relate to how it feels to intentionally run from what we know God is calling us to do) before he finally ends up standing before the people to Nineveh to deliver his short-n-angry warning, “In 40days you will be destroyed!”   

The entire city, from the king through to even the animals heeds the prophet’s warning and turn to God penitently.  God has mercy on them and they are not destroyed.  And here’s where our passage today picks up the story. 

Jonah is angry at God for… well, for being God.  Jonah essentially says to God, ‘There you go again being the God I know you really are (referencing Israelite wisdom about God’s gracious character, like is revealed in today’s Psalm), unreasonably merciful to anyone, even the non-chosen and the most foul of folk, who simply turn to you.  What’s the point of me proclaiming your judgement?  You didn’t destroy them.  My credibility is shot and I’d rather just die than face the truth of what this all means.”  In a huff, Jonah goes off to pout under a tree. 

God provides some temporary relief from the heat for Jonah and then withdraws it in the morning, which Jonah reacts to with even deeper disappointment.  Jonah’s vision is so limited to his own needs and concerns that he seems to miss the point that God has to make clear in the final verses.  God basically says, “Jonah why are you’re so concerned about a little something that you really had nothing to do with?  How much more concerned should I, God, be about an entire city of my own creation that has gone astray?”

Let’s again hear part of our Psalm appointed for today (Psalm 145:8): “The Lord is gracious and full of compassion, slow to anger and of great kindness.”

UNFAIRLY GENEROUS LANDOWNER & THE LABORERS

Now what about the parable Jesus tells in today’s Gospel lesson?  Perhaps this one hits even closer to home in our time when we’re so attentive to the ethic of equal pay for equal work and so mindful of the disparities between those who labor so hard and receive so little and others who seem to do nothing but waste time and resources yet still seem to end up wealthy.  Today’s parable comes on the heels of other parables in which Jesus has described the kingdom of God as a place that ishard to get into if you’re clinching your fist tightly to hold onto materialwealth.  He says that the kingdom is whereoutrageously enormous debt is forgiven and people are set free of what enslavesthem.  Jesus has also been saying that the apparent order of things are reversed in a godly kingdom – those of previous worldly privilege will find themselves more empty handed than those who were considered poor in wealth by societal standards.  And, yet, as was the case with our ancestors wandering the wilderness who were provided sufficient manna each morning, or the multitude of hungry followers of Christ who were able to miraculous feed themselves with only a few fishes and loaves, this morning’s parable reminds each of us that we’ll our daily bread, no matter when we finally arrive for work in God’s vineyard.

But, this isn’t an easy economy to accept, is it?.  When we’re wrapped up in how hard we’ve worked, how much we’ve toiled in good faith, how much we believe we deserve our wages, it just doesn’t seem fair at all that an employer would find someone who hasn’t seemingly ‘done their best’ and reward them the just the same, making them equal to us.  In our economy, one person’s gains often come from another person’s losses.  But in God’s economy, there’s plenty for everyone.

And, this parable might be even more challenging when you consider that we’re told that the landowner actively reaches out, several times during the day, to those who were idle, inviting them into the vineyard.  Earlier in Matthew, it is Jesus himself who says that he came not to tend to those who believe they’re doing well, but to those who are suffering… “I desire mercy, not sacrifice… for I’ve come to call not the righteous but the sinners” (Matthew 9:12-13).  Jesus seeks out the outcasts and with extra-ordinary compassion invites them to join him, and us, in the godly vineyard – for us all to join meet him at his table.

We can imagine that the disciples were as troubled by this as anyone hearing the message.  I can imagine someone saying, “You mean to tell me that after all we’ve left behind, after all we’ve given for this cause, after all we’ve done for this mission… that people can come along at the last minute, perhaps even people who has been ignoring the truth, working against us or even against God, and that those people we receive the equivalent of all that we believe we’ve earned (the same grace) and will stand equal with us before God?!”

The short answer is ‘yes.’ 

This is so inappropriate by our standards – by our work ethic.  This seemingly undiscriminating generosity is almost offensive!  And that’s just it.  God’s grace is not based on what we believe we’ve ‘earned’.  God’s mercy is not doled out by our human standards of merit.  How God deals with us and our neighbors has nothing to do with getting what we (or they) deserve, at least not by human rules/standards – thanks be to God.  This is amazing grace, indeed – unearned and freely given… and that’s good news!

By the way, if this turn of events – that one seeming least deserving / the recalcitrant is invited in and rewarded – sounds familiar.  You might recall the almost identical dynamic at work in the parable known as the ‘prodigal son’ (Luke 15:11-32) where the father celebrates the return of one son who was thought to be lost, but who is now found, while the other son, who has remained faithful and done ‘good’ all along, becomes envious/jealous/bitter.  The father says to the envious son that his joy for the return of the one previous lost in no way diminishes the love the father has for both brothers.  Both children are equally loved in the parent’s heart.

            So, what is the Holy Spirit saying to us this morning?

Just Abraham’s ancestors were deemed God’s chosen people and were expected to bring God’s blessing to everyone (even non-Jews), it is also true of us who have been baptized into Christ’s body that we should serve as a light to the world, bringing hope to others, particularly those who might be living in dark places.  And when we do this, we should begrudge or envy the godly gifts bestowed upon our neighbors even in the final hour, perhaps in their time of greatest need.

In doing our work in the God’s vineyard, we shouldn’t presume to fully comprehend or the have the power to apprehend the true extent of God’s grace, which is extended even to those who we might deem least deserving.

The Bible is full of examples of God’s extra-ordinary forgiveness – may that evidence of how we are loved by our common creator compel us to greater acts of charitable love and reconciliation toward our sisters and brothers….

Remembering that God’s examples of compassion and mercy are beyond what we consider fair or reasonable.  

That is good news, indeed.

AMEN

post-9/11... ten years later

On this morning ten years ago, we were terrorized into a "post-9/11" worldview.  As I prepare to participate in worship with two different congregations this morning, I'm very mindful of our assigned RCL lectionary readings (Genesis 50:15-21, Romans 14:1-12, Matthew 18:21-35) for this day (Proper 19, Year A) and the themes of judgement, mercy, and forgiveness that many of us will hear and/or from which we'll preach.  This 'anniversary' morning, as I bring to the foot of the cross and to the altar my own memories of that horrific morning in NYC and all that has cascaded from it, I offer up a few other readings that also have been salient for me as I've reconciled with post-9/11 life.  There is no sermon here.... simply some markers of where my heart of faith has been dwelling.

from Photographs from the archive of TIME photographer James Nachtwey

Romans 8:38-39

For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. 

Philippians 4:6-9

Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you.

John 14:15-20

If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever.This is the Spirit of truth, whom the world cannot receive, because it neither sees him nor knows him. You know him, because he abides with you, and he will be in you. I will not leave you orphaned; I am coming to you. In a little while the world will no longer see me, but you will see me; because I live, you also will live. On that day you will know that I am in my Father, and you in me, and I in you.

Labor together as a Christian Co-op

“Lord of the church, you call a broken people around your table: in times of disagreement, teach us to listen, loosen us from prejudice and bind us to your way of forgiving grace; through Jesus Christ, who stands at the heart of our gather. Amen”

(Shakespeare, Steven. Prayers for An Inclusive Church (NY: Church Publishing, 2009) p.35)

Ahhh (relaxed sigh), Labor Day weekend.  One last picnic outing, perhaps a pep rally to kick-off the football season.  Time to put away the summer white and store the boat; dust off the autumnal colors and open the school backpack.  As Campus Missioner, this is the time of year that I’m meeting many new faces on campuses in our diocese.  As I work with our peer ministry teams to welcome newcomers to our campuses, it’s interesting to observe the tensions between the unbridled bravado of new independence marbled with the yearning to belong.  In conversation with college students about the possibility of participating in a ministry fellowship, we listen to their ambivalence about wanting to continue to explore their spirituality while also avoiding too much commitment or responsibility to a particular religious tradition or denomination – an very customized consumerist mentality made ubiquitous in our affluent, post-modern cultural of commercialized individualism.  In one sense, since the changes of the 1960’s, this dynamic isn’t new… and, it’s not just common among new college students.  There are many adults around us, perhaps here with us this morning, that are searching for a way to reconcile their deep longing for community with their suspicion and criticism of organized, institutionalized ‘religion.’

For me, this is also the one year anniversary of my relocation to Kansas – it was this weekend last year that I arrived after my across half the country (from Santa Monica, CA) and spent the first few nights in my new home.  Reflecting on this first year here, of what has essentially been my first year of ordained ministry in our church, I realize how I’ve struggled with, and continue to pray about, my own desire for independence and control amid the demands of an intimate, personally interconnected reality called the church and the challenging, counter-cultural Christian call to more just and compassionate community.

Labor Day. Emerging from the harsh working conditions of the industrial revolution in the late 19^th Century (over 130 years ago) was the labor union movement and as well the origins of the national day of remembrance, imagined by some organizers as an antidote to mitigate the exploitation of common laborers by an economic system seemingly bent on maximizing productivity and profit for some at the expense of humanity and decency.   

Typically, this weekend many people will give vague consideration, if any, to the economic and political systems, and the vast numbers of lowest-wage laborers, that yield the material wealth and comforts we’ve come to take for granted.  However, since our harsh awakening in 2008 to the card-house nature of large portions of our capital markets constructed in haste and greed out of deceptive and manipulative speculation with ‘our’ savings, some folk have begun to re-examine shared (or not) assumptions and expectations about morality and ethics in pursuit of our capitalistic commonwealth.

Through today’s assigned lectionary readings, what might the Spirit asking us to consider about our common labor and wealth?  In each of these, we could mine for wisdom about our relationship with money.  However, I’m hearing a call to consider the economics of our relationships with each other – our relational commonwealth – and to pay closer attention to the costs of conceit, the wages of the sin of selfish separation, the diminishing dividends of rampant individualism.  Ezekiel is offering social critique to a people in exile, laboring under Babylonian rule.  Jesus, a manual laborer, is instructing his expectant and emergent group movement about how to counter-culturally cultivate new community.  And, Paul, who also labored in communities to fund his mission, is emphasizing the moral and ethical behavior necessary for shared salvation and live together the body of Christ.  In all three readings, we’re being called to invest in personal repentance and share reconciliation in order to grow collectively wealthy in love.  At the heart of it, the Spirit is calling us to labor together with and in Christ.

And shared labor this is. This is hard spiritual and emotional work we’re being called to collectively.  Many of problems are rooted in our selfish lusts and individualism:  the illusion that we can make it on our own; our belief that we’re entitled and empowered as autonomous individuals; our desire for gains without regard for the costs to others; and our distancing and separation from people who we don’t like, don’t agree with, and/or with whom we’ve had disagreements. We’re being told that the solutions to our problems will come from realizing that it’s not all about “me”, minding the good of the whole, and mending broken relationships 1-on-1, as small groups, and as communities… all with God’s help.

Ezekiel expresses God’s desire that we be sentinels for our communities – keeping watch for threats to our common good and calling each other to task for corrective actions.  Paul recites some of the commandments helpful to healthier communal life, reminding us not to obsess over possessing what isn’t really yours to begin with and to avoid obsessive individual indulgences.  He reminds us of the greatest rule of life, to love one another as God loves us.  And Jesus, the exemplar of how to demonstrate godly love for each other, implores us not remain passive about issues that divide us, but to actively confess transgressions and honorably confront social challenges with the intent of liberation of all parties from guilt and sin without embarrassment or shame so to restore dignity and right relationships with the divine assurance that when we’re re-unified, any two or more of us, his heavenly presence and power is with us. 

 “Truly I tell you, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven.  Again, truly I tell you, if two of you agree on earth about anything you ask, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven. For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.” (Matt 18: 19-20)

As we relax on the Labor Day weekend, let’s enjoy that there is biblical support for the power of personal refreshment and renewal… but also remember that the overarching message/gospel is about mitigating selfishness and living in charitable love together as one united family, caring collectively for the health and well-being of each other as we are created and blessed by a relational God. 

When we gather in here for worship, while we might walk in the door feeling like individuals – perhaps proudly independent, lonely, or lost – most everything we say and do in our liturgy reminds us that we’re in a divine relationship together in Christ as organs and systems of one unified body.  We can gently surrender parts of our obsessive “self” we join our voices in song to ‘collect’ ourselves anew.  We can reconsider our interdependence as we hear the words of our ancestors and wonder together what this means to our community today.  We can affirm that we’re not laboring alone as through our creeds, prayers, and hymns are the words ‘we’, ‘us’, and ‘our’, emphasizing that we’re in this together.  And, we come to our Lord’s table remembering that Christ labored for all of us, particularly offenders, those who were outcasts and not considered likeable by the cultural conventions of the day, and called us all to a forgiven, restored incorporated unity through his very body and blood.

Breath Restless into Me

(Loder, Ted. Guerrillas of Grace: Prayers for the Battle (Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress, 1981) pp 106-7)

Thank you for all I forget are gifts, not rights.

Forgive me for all the grievances I remember too well.

Save me from the self-pity,

the self-seeking, 

the fat-heartedness which is true poverty.

Guide me, if I’m willing (drive me if I’m not) 

into the hard ways of sacrifice 

which are just and loving.

Make me wide-eyed for beauty, 

and for my neighbor’s need and goodness;

wide-willed for peace-making, 

and for the confronting power with the call to compassion;

wide-hearted for love and for the unloved,

who are the hardest to touch and need it the most.

Dull the envy in me 

which criticizes

and complains life into a thousand ugly bits.

Keep me honest and tender enough to heal,

tough enough to be healed of my hypocrisies.

Match my appetite for privilege 

with the stomach for commitment.

Teach me the great cost of paying attention 

that, naked to the dazzle of your back as you pass, 

I may know I am always on holy ground.

Breath into me the restlessness 

and courage to make something new,

something saving, and something true 

that I may understand what it is to rejoice. 

AMEN