Reflection on Matthew 22:1-14 (Sunday, October 10th, 2026)

 

Matthew 22:1-14

1 Once more Jesus spoke to them in parables, saying: 2 “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son. 3 He sent his slaves to call those who had been invited to the wedding banquet, but they would not come. 4 Again he sent other slaves, saying, ‘Tell those who have been invited: Look, I have prepared my dinner, my oxen and my fat calves have been slaughtered, and everything is ready; come to the wedding banquet.’ 5 But they made light of it and went away, one to his farm, another to his business, 6 while the rest seized his slaves, mistreated them, and killed them. 7 The king was enraged. He sent his troops, destroyed those murderers, and burned their city. 8 Then he said to his slaves, ‘The wedding is ready, but those invited were not worthy. 9 Go therefore into the main streets, and invite everyone you find to the wedding banquet.’ 10 Those slaves went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad, so the wedding hall was filled with guests.

  11 “But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing a wedding robe, 12 and he said to him, ‘Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?’ And he was speechless. 13 Then the king said to the attendants, ‘Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ 14 For many are called, but few are chosen.”

Reflection

There is something that I simply do not like about this parable of the wedding banquet.  This thing makes me uncomfortable and confused, and my guess is that it will do the same for you.

But I was once told that I should not start off a sermon with negativity.  “Start off with something good.  We hear enough negativity in the world.  We do not need to come to church and hear it too.”

So, even though there is something that troubles me about this parable, I will indeed start off with all the things I like about it.

First, this story, about the king who throws a wedding feast and invites people, is a parable.  I love parables.  I love stories that you have to think about and wrestle with and argue with.  I know some of you like to have clear answers.  There is nothing wrong with that.  Maybe parables just are not for you, but I love to wrestle with a good parable from Jesus.

So, that is not the part I do not like.

The second thing that I like about this parable is that this king takes horrendous, evil things done to others seriously.  Those wealthy and powerful who beat and killed the king’s lowly servants simply because they handed out some wedding invitations deserve no mercy.  We live in an age where it seems that if the perpetrator has enough money and power, the little guy never sees justice.  So, even though I am not really a vengeance and killing sort of guy (what happens to the murderers in the story), I do appreciate that those with money and power do not get away with it.  God notices and cares when we face injustice.

So, that also is not the part I do not like.

And knowing that I like to root for the little guy, it will be no surprise that I really, really like this next part of the story.  The king says to his servants: “‘The wedding is ready, but those invited were not worthy. Go therefore into the main streets, and invite everyone you find to the wedding banquet.’  Those slaves went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad, so the wedding hall was filled with guests” (Matthew 22:8-10).

Since the wealthy and powerful do not want anything to do with the banquet, the king just invites everyone.  You don’t know the king?  You are invited!  You are just a poor nobody?  You are invited!  You are a gentle soul who wouldn’t impose on anyone?  You are invited!  You have a terrible past and a terrible reputation and wish that life was different?  You are invited!  You have never been the best person?  You are invited anyway!  “Those slaves went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad” (Matthew 22:10).

I love this part of the story because you have no idea how many people I have invited to come and worship who say to me, “I don’t think I am a very good choice for you to be inviting to church.”  Sometimes the reason is because of poor clothing.  Sometimes the reason is because of a disruptive child.  Sometimes the reason is because of a shameful past and torn heart. 

But both the good and the bad are invited to the party in the parable, and I let them know each and every time that, “We are invited by Jesus, not because we are great, but because we are not, we need him.  The good and the bad, the rich and the poor, the well dressed and the poorly dressed are all welcome to come and feast with Jesus.”

And I love the image of someone who is just dying to have a taste of grace and richness and abundance being invited in by Jesus to feast at his grace-filled table.

But that is where I get to the part that I do not like because this parable seems to say that I am lying.  The parable seems to say that inviting the poorly dressed is a problem.  You see, this guy, invited from the streets, comes into the feast not wearing a wedding robe.  He is punished, and I think to myself, “I thought the poor were welcome?  How is he supposed to be dressed well?  He didn’t ask to be invited; the king had his servants invite the guy in?  This seems like a set up!  How is this fair?”

It all reminds me of the story of Amanda who received an invitation to her best friend’s birthday party.  Before I start, you need to understand that her best friend loved unicorns.  And you also need to understand that this took place in New York City.

So, the invitation had a big unicorn of the front and was titled: “Dressed to Impress: A Themed Night of Fun!”

“I love costume parties!” Amanda thought.  And she knew exactly what costume would make her best friend laugh.

Amanda confidently pulled out a glittering, head‑to‑toe, blow-up unicorn costume. It was awesome.  It had a rainbow tail, and a silver horn, and sparkly hooves. It was perfect.

Amanda arrived at the given address in New York City, turned on the costume’s blower, became a giant unicorn, and walked right into the restaurant.  She strutted in proudly, looked around, and froze.

What she saw were people wearing elegant cocktail dresses, crisp suits, and tasteful jewelry.  They all turned her way and stared and the inflated, plastic, discount store creation standing before them.

The theme was “Dressed to impress,” and the thing that stood at the door of the high-end restaurant was, indeed, an impressive sight!

The tension was broken by her friend who burst out laughing.  Others in the restaurant assumed she was part of a flash mob.  And a child came up to her and asked if she granted wishes.  They all took pictures with the unicorn, and it was great, and it was embarrassing. 

Now, Amanda’s costume mistake cost her some pink cheeks and dignity, but at least it did not cost her life.  The guy from the streets who shows up at the king’s wedding banquet in the wrong clothing is bound “hand and foot” and thrown “into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth” (Matthew 22:13).

And I feel for the people who show up on a Sunday morning to Jesus’ feast and feel underdressed.  Underdressed, not only in what they can afford to wear, but also underdressed in their knowledge of God or the Bible; underdressed in their ability to trust God; underdressed in their morals; underdressed in their reputation; underdressed and exposing themselves as sinners and unloved and weak and lacking faith.  I once saw a guy who was asked by an usher to leave because he was wearing a hat.  He needed the hat to hide some shameful and hideous scars on his head.  When he entered, he feared he would be thrown out, and he was.

I know that I am not alone in fearing that in some way that I am not good enough.  We fear that we are an imposter, pretending to be good and faithful, but actually being very poor and weak.  We fear that if anyone knew the real us, we would be thrown out to suffer the “weeping and gnashing of teeth” (Matthew 22:13).

So that was the part of the parable that I did not like.  It seems like a contradiction.  All are invited and all are welcome, but if you cannot dress right, you actually should not come or there will be consequences.  It seems unloving.  It seems unfair.  It seems the opposite of God’s character.  “It seems like I need to do a little more research,” I said to myself.

So, I did.  I researched ancient Jewish wedding banquets in Palestine, and I discovered something really important.  Do you remember that wedding robe that the guy was not wearing?  It turns out that those things were handed out at the door.  You see, wedding banquets were several days long.  People came and went from the festivities.  They would party all night, head off to work in the morning, and come back again after working.  To maintain the glory and majesty of the celebration, the host would hand out these wedding robes at the door, covering all the sweat and dirt underneath.  The guy that was thrown out for refusing to wear the robe.  He refused to take part.  He refused to celebrate.

And that makes so much more sense.  Jesus covers us all, good and bad, with robes of love and forgiveness.  We are all invited to the celebration: rich, poor, faithful, faithless, strong, weak, good looking, needs improvement; all of us are loved, forgiven, covered by the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross, and welcomed into God’s party of grace. 

It is true that some people break into Jesus’ party and refuse to wear that robe of grace and forgiveness.  Why would you want to be at the party if you did not want to be a part of the party?  Why would you desire grace and forgiveness, if you did not want to be involved in offering grace and forgiveness?

I do not really think that we need the consequence of weeping and gnashing of teeth because bitter and unforgiving people tend to live bitter and unforgiving lives. That sort of life seems full of weeping and gnashing to me.  Maybe a bitter life is the consequence of living a bitter life.

But setting them aside, what I want to say to you this morning is “Welcome to the party!  If you are tenderhearted and good, welcome.  Feast on God’s goodness. 

If you are stuck in life and lost, welcome.  Feast on God’s goodness. 

If you lack faith and do not know which way to turn, welcome.  Feast on God’s goodness. 

And, if you cannot bring yourself to forgive or be forgiven, go to the door and get a robe.  Christ’s robe of love and grace can cover all of that.  Go to the door, love will find you.  Go to the door, Christ will find you.  Go to the door and learn what it mean to wear God’s love.

Reflection on Matthew 21:33-46

Matthew 21:33-46

[Jesus said:] ³³ “Listen to another parable. There was a landowner who planted a vineyard, put a fence around it, dug a winepress in it, and built a watchtower. Then he leased it to tenants and went away. ³⁴ When the harvest time had come, he sent his slaves to the tenants to collect his produce. ³⁵ But the tenants seized his slaves and beat one, killed another, and stoned another. ³⁶ Again he sent other slaves, more than the first, and they treated them in the same way. ³⁷ Then he sent his son to them, saying, ‘They will respect my son.’ ³⁸ But when the tenants saw the son, they said to themselves, ‘This is the heir; come, let us kill him and get his inheritance.’ ³⁹ So they seized him, threw him out of the vineyard, and killed him. ⁴⁰ Now when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?” ⁴¹ They said to him, “He will put those wretches to a miserable death and lease the vineyard to other tenants who will give him the produce at the harvest time.”
  ⁴² Jesus said to them, “Have you never read in the scriptures:
 ‘The stone that the builders rejected
  has become the cornerstone;
 this was the Lord’s doing,
  and it is amazing in our eyes’?
⁴³ “Therefore I tell you, the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people that produces its fruits. ⁴⁴ The one who falls on this stone will be broken to pieces, and it will crush anyone on whom it falls.”
  ⁴⁵ When the chief priests and the Pharisees heard his parables, they realized that he was speaking about them. ⁴⁶ They wanted to arrest him, but they feared the crowds, because they regarded him as a prophet.

Reflection

God notices and God cares.  Jesus is our cornerstone, and our lives are built on him; no one else.

That is the premise of this sermon anyway.  If I put titles on my sermons, which I have never done, but if I did, I would have titled this one, “God notices and God cares.” And I am certain that there are several people who would have read that title and disagreed.

Many survivors of the German consecration camps would have been uncomfortable with the title “God notices and God cares.”  An example of their discomfort can be felt in an awkward and humorless joke that floated among survivors.  Do not worry if you do not find this joke funny.  It is not intended to be.  It goes like this: “An Auschwitz survivor goes to heaven, meets God, and tells God a Holocaust joke. God does not laugh and says, ‘I don't find that joke funny at all.’ The survivor shrugs and replies, ‘Guess you had to be there.’"

I do not think I have ever heard a joke that held so much pain.  I do not think I have ever heard a joke that cries as this one does.  The joke remembers the cries of those in the chambers of death who whispered Psalm 13 on their lips as the fear set in:

“How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?
    How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I bear pain in my soul
    and have sorrow in my heart all day long?
How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?

Consider and answer me, O Lord my God! (Psalm 13:1-3)”

Even so, I still declare that God notices and God cares.

“How can you say that?” the woman said to me as her world fell apart around her.  She was trying hard to raise her three small children.  She was a single parent because her husband had died in a terrible accident.  And she broke down in soft, quiet tears in the middle of the grocery store as she told me that the doctors had discovered terminal cancer in her body.  To top it all off, the bills were bleeding her dry. 

“Bill collectors do not care that you are dying,” she said.  “Bill collectors do not care that your children need their house and need their mother for the short amount of time that we have left.” 

They do not notice.  They do not care.

And I know that it feels like God does not care in these situations, but God does care.  God notices and God cares.  Jesus is our cornerstone, and our lives are built on him; no one else.

Now, I have no need to defend God.  God does not require me to make sure that God keeps a good name.  Yet, I still insist that the problem in both situations is not God.  The problem in both situations is the caretakers.  In both situations there are caretakers who do not care.

Both situations are the parable of the wicked tenants.  In this parable, Jesus teaches us about a landowner who planted a vineyard and the vineyard was leased to tenants to trim, grow, and harvest.  There were grapes and wine to be shared, but when the landowner sent trusted servants to gather the produce, the tenants resorted to violence.  The Bible says, “the tenants seized his [servants] and beat one, killed another, and stoned another. Again he sent other slaves, more than the first, and they treated them in the same way” (Matthew 21:35-36)

The problem was not God.  The problem was a problem of alignment with God’s ways, or rather failure to be in alignment with God’s ways.  The tenants, who were supposed to be tending these grapes and this wine so that they could be collected and shared, simply claimed it all as their own.  The produce was supposed to be gathered and shared, but the tenants simply do not care.  They took over the vineyard that they did not plant, and they claimed it all as their own and they did not care. They beat. They murdered.  They even dug a big hole and threw one of the servants down it so that they could crush him with a stone.  They were greedy.  They felt entitled.  They did not care.

The one person in this story who did care is the landowner.  He sent people to try to make things right.  The Bible says that he even went as far as sending his own precious Son to make things right.  He said to himself, “‘They will respect my son.’ But when the tenants saw the son, they said to themselves, ‘This is the heir; come, let us kill him and get his inheritance.’ So they seized him, threw him out of the vineyard, and killed him” (Matthew 21:38-39).

You can blame God all you want for the terrible things of this world.  Truly, go ahead.  God’s shoulders are big.  God can hold God’s own.  God can hold your anger.  God can hold your tears.  But do not think for a second that God did not care when his own son was put to death by the same sort of people who still do not care.  When Jesus hung on that cross, nailed to that thing by people who did not care, he cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46).  He cried out, not in desperation for himself, but in solidarity with all the other people who have cried out those same words, desperate in a world full of people who simply do not care.

Allowing his son to join all those who are forgotten and beat down and pushed aside, I can confidently declare to you that God notices and God cares.  God sent God’s own son to be there with us in our suffering and tragedy.  Jesus is right there.  And because of that, Jesus is our cornerstone, and our lives are built on him; no one else.

God notices and God cares. 

God noticed those in the concentration camps and suffered and died with them.  God noticed the woman of three little ones who would soon be in God’s presence, struggling to provide a life for her children.  And God notices all those who refuse to share the abundance of the vineyard. 

God notices the helpless and those who are supposed to help.

God noticed those who perpetuated evil in Nazi Germany. 

God notices the faceless institutions that simply do not care as long as their wallets thrive. 

God notices and the Bible insists that “when the owner of the vineyard comes…He will put those wretches to a miserable death and lease the vineyard to other tenants who will give him the produce at the harvest time” (Matthew 27:40-41).

After all, justice demands that the world not mold and transform itself into a human image, being shaped by our own faulty and selfish desires.  Justice demands that we allow ourselves to be molded and transformed into the image of God; an image that we were intended to look like from the very beginning. 

Jesus is the image of God that the followers of Jesus hope to resemble.  And if that means that our old, terrible, uncaring selves need to suffer a “miserable death” so that we can be a “new creation” then that is what God needs to do (Matthew 21:41 and 2 Corinthians 5:17). 

Jesus is our corner stone.  All the measurements of our rebuilt lives will be based on him.  He will be our support.  He will be our strength.  He will be the corner of our lives.  We will trust in him.

God notices and God cares.  Jesus is our cornerstone, and our lives are built on him; no one else.

It was David who cried out to the Lord, “How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?  How long will you hide your face from me?  How long must I bear pain in my soul” (Psalm 13:1-2). 

When his enemies surrounded him, when they sought his death, when they did not care, it was King David who cried out those words.  But it was also David who took comfort in all that God had done in the past.  David remembered the goodness of the Lord, even though it felt like God did not care.  God has always cared in the past.  Today is no different. 

David finishes Psalm 13 by singing, “But I trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord because he has dealt bountifully with me” (Psalm 13:5-6).

It was her neighbor who resembled Jesus in the end; the woman with three littles who was dying from cancer and was about to lose her home.  Her elderly neighbor, whose wife had died several years ago, did not have the kind of money that it would take to save her home.  However, he did have an empty home that needed three children and mother.  Through this man, a man who the three kids now lovingly call “Pops” as they sit on his lap to listen to bedtime stories, God noticed and God cared.

God notices and God cares.  Jesus is our cornerstone, and our lives are built on him; no one else.

Reflection on Philippians 2:1-13

Philippians 2:1-13 (NRSVue)

¹ If, then, there is any comfort in Christ, any consolation from love, any partnership in the Spirit, any tender affection and sympathy, ² make my joy complete: be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. ³ Do nothing from selfish ambition or empty conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. ⁴ Let each of you look not to your own interests but to the interests of others. ⁵ Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,
 ⁶ who, though he existed in the form of God,
  did not regard equality with God
  as something to be grasped,
 ⁷ but emptied himself,
  taking the form of a slave,
  assuming human likeness.
 And being found in appearance as a human,
  ⁸ he humbled himself
  and became obedient to the point of death—
  even death on a cross.

 ⁹ Therefore God exalted him even more highly
  and gave him the name
  that is above every other name,
 ¹⁰ so that at the name given to Jesus
  every knee should bend,
  in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
 ¹¹ and every tongue should confess
  that Jesus Christ is Lord,
  to the glory of God the Father.

  ¹² Therefore, my beloved, just as you have always obeyed me, not only in my presence but much more now in my absence, work on your own salvation with fear and trembling, ¹³ for it is God who is at work in you, enabling you both to will and to work for his good pleasure.

 

Reflection

The very first quartet I ever heard was in church.  My English teacher’s adult children had come home for Christmas, and they sang a Christmas hymn the Sunday after Christmas Eve.  They were a quartet of two sons and two daughters.  They sang without piano - a cappella, and their harmonies were perfect.  When they took pauses to breathe, they paused in perfect unity, and when they started singing again, they started singing in absolute perfection and coordination.  When they finished singing, there was a pause as their last harmonies bounced through the air and trailed off into a stunned silence.  Applause broke out in this small church that never clapped for any special music because, for these Christians, special music was not a performance, but a gift given to God, like your Sunday morning offering.  No one claps because you put a twenty into the offering plate.  But what these four did was much more than scraping together a gift to give to God.  Their song was a gift of God to us, showing us what being “of the same mind” in Christ can sound like (Philippians 2:2).  It can sound like being so in tune with one another that you cannot hear where one person begins and another ends.

I have seen this same gift of being “of the same mind” in Christ in other areas of life as well.  The ministry team of carpenters that came to help us rebuild after the flood that harmed our home was so skilled and practiced at putting up sheetrock that they barely needed to talk with one another.  One guy measured and put up the previously cut sheet while another took the measured sheet and cut.  It was like watching a ballet, only instead of tights and perfectly positioned hands these guys were wearing dusty jeans and were wielding utility knives.  But not only were they of one mind while they worked, they were of one mind in their mission.  They were there to help people rebuild, no matter who the people were, no matter how much or little the people made for an income, and no matter what their past sins.  They were “of the same mind” in Christ, convinced that this was a ministry of grace and healing; no judgment, just new life.

Being “of the same mind” feels so impossible these days.  Paul encourages the Philippians to be of one mind, to be of one accord, and to find themselves in love with one another, having the same sort of love that God has for God’s children.  Paul is optimistic that this can actually be a thing in our divided world.    

Paul is optimistic that people who wildly disagree about so many things in our society can be “in full accord and of one mind” (Philippians 2:2).  He truly thinks that our divided world can figure out how to ignore our “own interests” but rather focus of “the interests of others” (Philippians 2:4).

“Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,” Paul urges.

There does not have to be Cats vs. dogs, Star Wars vs. Star Trek, Minecraft vs. Roblox, sports socks vs. tube socks; or even Democrats vs. Republicans.  We do not have to live in a world where we refuse to be of one mind. 

So then, why aren’t we of one mind?  How did our world get so divided?  Why did we become so divided with our neighbors?  Why is it so important that we be right and others be wrong?

Paul seems to think that there are a couple of reasons that we get entangled in this trap of division.  You get a hint of it as Paul’s instructs the church in Philippi:

“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…” 

Selfish ambition (desiring success); conceit (thinking more of yourself than you ought); and loving yourself and paying attention to your own wants and desires rather than turning your attention toward your neighbors; these are all self-focused things.  And, when everyone is focused on themselves, there is little chance that we will be able to be of one mind about anything.  A land of a million kings is not a land that is united.  So, what do we do?

Remember those singers that I talked about, whose harmonies were so at one with one another that we were convinced it was a pure gift from God?  With that sort of example in mind, Paul turns to a song to help unite us.  It is an early Christian hymn.  We no longer know the tune, but we know the powerful words.  The Hymn that these early Christians sang together went like this:

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,  

being born in human likeness.  

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)

You can imagine hearing the harmonies and the words expressing Jesus’ love and humility as they lingered in the air after the congregation finished the song.  Songs are powerful things.  Songs can penetrate deeply into our souls in ways that preaching and speeches simply cannot.  Songs speak to our hearts.  O Holy Night opens me up to the power of the Christ Child every Christmas in a way that no sermon or speech ever could. 

And when we sing them together as a group?  For that moment in time as the song pours from our all our lips together, we are one.  For a moment in this divided life, we are “of the same mind” as we sing our hymn.  We are “of the same mind” as we sing about Jesus and his kingdom.

As the Philippians sing together, they sing about a man who had as much power as God.  He could create as God creates, he could judge as God judges, and he was able to destroy as God is able to destroy. 

But rather than seeing the hate and division of the world, and thinking, “It is time for me to take over and take charge,” Paul says that he “did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave.”

I will stop right there.  How many of you have ever thought, “If I were emperor of the world, I would make everyone do this, this, and this, and the world would be a better place.”?  While driving together, a friend was once expressing to me how great it would be to become the emperor of the whole world.  The world would be a better place if only the world listened to his wisdom.  Just then his teenage children called, screaming on the phone.  They were fighting.  He tried to redirect the two teens, but they just kept screaming and eventually they just hung up on him.  So, I asked, “How’s being emperor of your home going?” 

But this song that the Philippians sing is about a man who has that kind of power.  He is the wise emperor with all the power.  He could just force everyone to bend to his ways.  He could force everyone to serve his vision of a new and better world. 

But rather than thinking, “It is time to destroy this mess of a world and start it all over again…how about another flood?” he came down from his heavenly heights, and he walked around for a while on the bloody soils of hate and division.  He allowed his own story to become a part of the world’s story.  “Though he existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be grasped” (Philippians 2:6).

Rather he grasped onto all the hate and division that the world thrust his way.  Like a slave working in the fields, he carried that heavy burden all the way to a cross where he was nailed. 

“He emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, assuming human likeness.  And being found in appearance as a human, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death—even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:7-8).

Though his arms were spread wide, he never stopped holding onto the hate and division and sin.  It was nailed to his hands, still in his bloody grasp when death consumed him.  He died.  And when he died, the hate and division died with him.

This man regarded other people’s lives better than his own; worth more than his own.  He died that others might have a better and blessed life.  His life was not shaped by his own needs, interests, and desires; rather, he focused on what others needed.  He acted, even though it meant dying on a cross.

If you want to lift someone in high regard, Paul says, lift that guy: Jesus Christ.  Jesus is “the name that is above every other name,” Paul preaches (Philippians 2:9).  His name is the name that “every tongue should confess as Lord” (Philippians 2:11).  He is the one worthy of devotion and praise.  He is the one worthy of being followed.  He is the one worthy of being emulated.  Jesus is our savior.

The Apostle Paul has an idea for us.  Rather than be guided by political leaders or their ideologies, or by the whims of celebrities, or by societal pressures, or even our own whims and desires, the Bible suggests that we live and think with the mind of Christ.  Join the song of Jesus Christ.  Sing in harmony with him.  Or another way to put it: join in the ballet of his work.

You see, the mind of Christ has never cared about success.  The mind of Christ has never dwelt on selfish notions.  And the mind of Christ has never focused on “me” or the need for me to have more and be more.  The mind of Christ did not even focus on making everyone believe that he was right.  Christ focused his mind on obeying God and saving others.  Does that sound familiar? 

Paul’s idea sounds a lot like the greatest commandment: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind and your neighbor as yourself” (Luke 10:27).

Join the Lord’s song.  Sing together the words of Christ.  Sing about the Lord healing when asked.  Sing about the Lord sharing a meal when needed.  Sing about the Lord freeing those who are captive and need to be set free.  Sing about the Lord of love.  “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 2:5).  Christ’s mind is full of love. 

It is real love.  It is love in action.  It is a sacrificial love. 

Christ made you a part of that love.  He died to make you a part of that love.  Christ made you a member of his body; a member of Godly love.  Sing Christ’s song!  Allow Christ’s song to drown out the divisions, and disagreements, and selfish desires.  Allow Christ’s song of forgiving love and sacrificial help of neighbor to linger its beautiful harmonies in the air.  Let Christ’s song linger and then let it sink deeply into your soul.

Reflection on Matthew 20:1-16

Matthew 20:1-16 (NRSVue)

[Jesus said to the disciples:] 1 “The kingdom of heaven is like a landowner who went out early in the morning to hire laborers for his vineyard. 2 After agreeing with the laborers for a denarius for the day, he sent them into his vineyard. 3 When he went out about nine o’clock, he saw others standing idle in the marketplace, 4 and he said to them, ‘You also go into the vineyard, and I will pay you whatever is right.’ So they went. 5 When he went out again about noon and about three o’clock, he did the same. 6 And about five o’clock he went out and found others standing around, and he said to them, ‘Why are you standing here idle all day?’ 7 They said to him, ‘Because no one has hired us.’ He said to them, ‘You also go into the vineyard.’ 8 When evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his manager, ‘Call the laborers and give them their pay, beginning with the last and then going to the first.’ 9 When those hired about five o’clock came, each of them received a denarius. 10 Now when the first came, they thought they would receive more; but each of them also received a denarius. 11 And when they received it, they grumbled against the landowner, 12 saying, ‘These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.’ 13 But he replied to one of them, ‘Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for a denarius? 14 Take what belongs to you and go; I choose to give to this last the same as I give to you. 15 Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?’ 16 So the last will be first, and the first will be last.”

Reflection

“Well, that’s a wrap!” the farmer said as all of us kids jumped down from our seats on the bean bar and headed toward the farmer.  If you have spent any time in the Midwest, you know what bean barring is.  But, if you have not, it is when a soybean farmer hires a bunch of cheap labor, usually tweens and early teens, straps some bucket seats to a metal bar on the front of a sprayer, and the kids use guns connected to herbicide to shoot weeds in the bean field like first person action video game.  It is fun, and it is hot and sweaty and miserable.  Did I say shooting stuff is a lot of fun?  Plus, you get paid!

So, as we came up to the farmer, he handed out our checks for the summer.  I tore mine open and saw that I had made enough to buy the combination TV and stereo that I had been eyeing in Wal-Mart for months.  I was excited.  But when I looked over the shoulder of my friend, the farmer’s son, I saw that his check was double mine!

“I don’t understand, why is Joe’s check so much more,” I asked the farmer out of earshot of the others.  “I worked hard all summer!” 

“Of course you worked hard.  I paid for your work.  Just remember that Joe helps me take care of the pigs each and every day.  He did a lot more work than you.”

Of course, I made sense.  I was still a little jealous that I did not live directly on the farm so that I could work every day and make even more money.  But I no longer felt like I was treated unfairly.  I got paid for my hours, which were many, and Joe got paid for his, which were a lot more.  It was fair.

Now, what would have felt unfair is if Joe would have looked over my shoulder and saw that my check was the same amount as his, even though he put in many, many more hours.  He would have rightly been upset with his father.

You see, in our culture there is this basic math that says if you put in the time, you get the reward.  This is the basic eye for eye math that most of us inherently understand.  Some work equals some money.  You give a gift; I give a gift in return.  If a toddler bites you, you bite them back.  If someone steals a car, they owe you a car or something of equal value.  If you take a life, you lose your life.  Our criminal laws function this way, with lady liberty holding the scales of justice, balancing everything out fairly; not too much, not too little.

There is also noble math like: the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.  This is where a single soldier lays on a live grenade to save a whole group of his friends.  That is noble math indeed.

All of this is to say, that there is this basic math…these basic equations and laws of life…that allow us to get along and thrive.  This math almost seems like it is woven into the fabric of our very existence.  And I think that is why it feels so unsettling when God does not seem to understand how this basic math of life works.

Remember the story that Jesus told of the shepherd who leaves 99 sheep in peril while he goes to find one sheep (Matthew 18:12-14).  It is a story of weird math.  It teaches that in God’s kingdom, the needs of the one lost sheep can, shockingly, outweigh the needs of the many sheep. 

And, what about the person who is forgiven “seventy times seven” times for the same hurtful offense; forgiven over and over again (Matthew 18:21-22)?  It does not seem to make any sense, but in God’s kingdom the scales of justice sometimes lean dramatically to one side.  And that is just not how the math of the world works.

But it does not stop there.  Jesus even upsets the basic math of hard work! 

In today’s gospel story there is a vineyard owner who needs some day laborers to go trim his vines.  So, he goes to the end of the Home Depot parking lot and hires a bunch of guys at $12 an hour to work for an 8-hour shift.  They jump in the back of the pickup and go off to work.  A few hours later the vineyard owner sees that he could really use a few more men.  So, he goes back to the same Home Depot parking lot and hires more guys.  They jump in the back of the pickup.  Remember when we could ride in the back of a pick-up?  We cannot do that anymore.  There is no more laughing at Bill as he clings on for dear life after falling backwards off the tailgate.  Safety first and all.  Back to the story, the vineyard owner does this again and again.  Even at the very end of the day, the vineyard owner hires some guys who still had not been hired by anyone else.  At least they might earn a few bucks for the day.

Now, at the end of the day, the first guys that worked all day got paid $96 in cash for their 8 hours of work.  That is a meal and part of the electric bill right there.

Did I multiple right?  12x8=96?  As most of you understand about me; there is a reason I became a pastor and not an accountant.

In any case, the guys who worked all day got paid $96; the price that was agreed.  But here is the kicker in the story; the vineyard owner also gave the guys who worked just one hour $96.  Wait a second here.  12x1=12.  They should have gotten $12!

This is the exact same scenario that we talked about before where my friend theoretically looks over my shoulder and sees that I was paid the same as him, even though he worked a lot more through the summer than I did.

Now, I realize that I took some liberties with this ancient story.  We all know that Home Depot had not yet established its home renovation dominance in the world and that Bill would have been falling off the back of a donkey and not a pick-up truck. 

But what was not exaggerated was the vineyard owner’s total disregard for the math of hard work.  The guys who worked the day away in the hot sun earned $96.  Those who worked only one hour in the cool weather of the early evening also earned the full $96. 

This story of unfair wages is what the kingdom of heaven looks like according to Jesus?  God’s kingdom is a place where the hard workers are given the same as late comers?

This is bad math.  This is simply unfair.  How can that sort of math possibly be good for this world?

Here is what I fear.  I fear that if God uses this type of math, God ends up looking weak.

It is a weak god who allows the lazy to thrive.  “Don’t worry if you don’t want to come to work on time.  Come at the end and it will all be fine.”  Should not a strong God be holding firm to principles of hard work.  In the real world, you deserve what you earn.  Fair wage for fair time is the bedrock of a thriving economy.  Hard work and an eye for an eye…do you not remember those values, God?  Strong gods reward hard work: “God helps those who help themselves” and all that. 

Strong gods hold to their principles.  Strong gods care about those who follow the rules and do not break them.  Strong gods reward those who deserve rewarding.  Strong gods do not let everyday people trample on them, spit on them, and take advantage of them.  Strong gods do not allow themselves to get strung up on a cross to die.

Using the voice of the vineyard owner, Jesus answers our objections.  Jesus puts us in our place rather us putting God in God’s place.  Using the voice of the vineyard owner, Jesus says to those of us who worked hard the entire day: “Friend, I am doing you no wrong; did you not agree with me for the usual daily wage?  Take what belongs to you and go; I choose to give to this last the same as I give to you.  Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?”

“Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous?”  We have heard this sentiment in the Bible before.  God basically said the same thing to the prophet Jonah who did not want any mercy shown to the evil and corrupt Ninevites who turn back to God after the deadline.  Jonah just knew that God was “gracious and merciful God, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love, and relenting from punishment” (Jonah 4:2).  The idea that God does not follow the rules of this world infuriates Jonah.  The idea that God does not follow the rules of this world, the rules of fairness, the rules of the strong, sometimes infuriates me.

But Jesus says, “Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or are you envious because I am generous” (Matthew 20:15)? 

The word for “envious” here is a fascinating word.  It is literally translated as “evil eye” or more to the point: “greedy eye.”  Through the voice of the vineyard owner, Jesus says, “Or do you have a greedy eye because I am generous” (Matthew 20:15)?

That cuts to the truth really quick.  When I saw what Joe made in comparison to my check out in the field, I was jealous.  I had a greedy eye.  When we see people who do not deserve to be rewarded getting something good, we think, “Where’s mine?  Don’t I deserve more?  Why are you making them equal to me?”

A truly strong God is NOT the god who easily punishes, easily dismisses, and easily disregards others.  That sort of god is unable to see the workers at the end of the day who desperately want to work, but no one hired them.  That sort of god cannot have compassion because that sort of god does not see and does not want to see.  That sort of god would not seek the lost, jump on a grenade, or go to a cross.  The truth is that it is easy to dismiss, ignore, and cut people away from our lives.  That is not a strong god.  That is a god who is like us.  That is the lazy god.  That is a god who does not want to put in the hard work of picking up broken people.

The God who is truly strong is the God who forgives again and again and sticks it out.  A truly strong God sees the ones who have been forgotten.  A truly strong God goes after the one whose life is a mess and no one knows what to do with them.  A truly strong God goes to a cross to die for sinners like you and like me.  A truly strong God is a God who shows mercy. 

The kingdom ruled by Jesus Christ, works with a whole different system of math.  It is a math that desires “mercy, not sacrifice” (Hosea 6:6, Matthew 9:13, and Matthew 12:7).  It is a math that will go and save the one, even though there are many.  It is a math where all are created equal and given equal worth; there is no need for you to first earn your worth.  It is a math that can save a wretch like me.  It is a math that can look at the sinner…the lost cause…and see a future.  It is a math that looks nothing like our own because, in this math, one person’s death on a cross balances the scales and pays for the sins of the entire world.  Jesus gave “his life as a ransom for many” (Matthew 20:28).

There was once a man who stole a church’s Sunday collection as it sat in the back of the church.  It was thousands of dollars.  In retaliation for the theft, the church decided to pay all the man’s bills for the next few months.  The man and his financially struggling family were emotionally overcome by the mercy that the church showed.  And, when I say overcome, I mean more than the tears that were shed; and a lot of tears were shed.  I mean that the mercy of Jesus Christ literally took control of that man’s life, and his life was changed, forever.  He became one of the strongest, most compassionate leaders of that very church. 

At the time of the theft a befuddled reporter asked, “Why did the church do such a thing for someone who hurt them?”  A member of the church simply answered, “Are we not allowed to be generous?  We believe that the mercy of Jesus Christ can save the world.”

How is that for faith?  How is that for backwards math?

Never forget, you were saved, not by the math of this world, but by the math of mercy.  It is the math of the one you follow, the one who saved you: Jesus Christ our Lord.