Back in the days of the early pandemic, we often heard people commenting on "these unprecedented times." And to an extent, they were right - after all, every period in history has its entirely unique characteristics.
But as we see in today’s scriptures, the feeling that destructive forces have seized the land and that harm is triumphing over good is very precedented indeed. As churches all over the world read these passages this morning, many listeners will hear a direct, real-time resonance with the politics and practices at work in their own community or country. Sadly, it seems that learning the lessons of history in time to prevent its unhappy excesses is a feat that has eluded much of humanity in times both ancient and modern.
At the end of today’s gospel, Jesus derides his listeners as hypocrites who can look at the sky and predict the weather, but who can’t interpret the culture around them - can’t see which way the wind is blowing, so to speak. I think we can all empathize with Jesus’s frustration - as we look at some of what’s going on in the world today, it’s hard not to pull our hair out at our collective failure to see what is necessary for the world to come right, whether at the personal, corporate or political level.
But as we have seen from our neighbours to the south, where father and son, mother and daughter are indeed pitted against each other in a divided nation, getting human beings onto the same page is — to put it very mildly — easier said than done, even at the best of times.
I recall decades ago going to someone’s home for dinner in Caulfield Cove, near St. Francis-in-the-Wood in West Vancouver. I hadn’t been to that neighbourhood before, and it really felt like we were driving into a Garden of Eden, with the old-fashioned church near the shoreline, surrounded by a village of charming houses, forests and flowers. I imagined all the fortunate souls living harmoniously in their quaint homes and lending each other cups of sugar. But such was not the case, as I learned over the course of the evening, when we were regaled with a blow-by-blow account of how neighbour was battling neighbour, the community association was on high alert, and everyone had a stake in the outcome of an earnestly raging conflict, which was regarding … I kid you not … the colour someone had painted their front door.
It struck me hard then, that we are the snake in the garden of Eden; that we humans have the unique capacity to turn a bountiful shower of blessings into a puddle of self-pity, a river of resentment, or a groundswell of greed.What more, asks the godly figure in our first reading, what more could I have done for my vineyard that I have not already done? But still it yielded rotten grapes.
Now, there are some theologies that emphasize the brokenness of each human being, that we are all born abject sinners. That doesn’t feel quite right to me. While none of us are perfect, there are plenty of people through whom God’s loves shines faithfully and well. But we can’t get away from the fact that at the same time, bad seeds take root in our vineyard and destructive thought and deeds will at times run rampant in individuals, in political parties, in churches, in leaders, or in institutions of all sorts. Sadly, the saints cannot always outrun the sinners, whether that is the saint and sinner living in each of us, or the saints and sinners that collectively make up our society.
In that unhappy vineyard, says Isaiah, there will be a reckoning. Sooner or later, there is always a reckoning. It may be the eruption caused by a family dysfunction that has simmered unspoken for a year or for generations.
It may be that the piper is finally getting paid after a country, or a class, or a person has taken too much, for too long, at the expense of too many. Whatever or wherever the vineyard in question, the reckoning eventually comes, with unknown results.
Some folks who don’t know better assume the Bible is a bunch of children’s tales strung together to make us feel better, or to help us see life through a simple, one-dimensional lens that dumbs down the complexities of reality into easily digestible narratives. We know that quite the opposite is true. The Bible takes us into the raw truth that life is not fair, that bad things happen to good people and visa versa, that people will suffer terribly in this life whether or not they are faithful to God.
In the letter to the Hebrews today, Paul states plainly that while great works have been brought about through faith, people’s faith has also at times led to their mocking, flogging, imprisonment, stoning, torture, or dismemberment by saw or sword. It’s hardly the stuff of recruitment posters.
Still, Paul says that we are to be encouraged by this great cloud of witnesses who have given their all to Christ, knowing of the greater resurrection to come. We, too, are to run with perseverance the race that is set before us, in our own particular spot in history. Admittedly, we won’t always give our all … but for Christians, giving up is not an option.
Paul points to Jesus as the model of perfect faith, and in the gospel reading today Jesus says that it is high time to figure out what to believe and what to do about it. Yes, it sounds shocking to hear the Prince of Peace calling for painful division amongst families and his hopes for the world to be set ablaze. But if we are to be a practising Christian - not just a passive one - there are times in our life when we have to think humbly and deeply, and then plant our flag on one side of history or the other; when we have to choose whether to align ourselves with the vulnerable or the victor, when we may need to speak unpalatable realities to those who do not want to hear them. Again, this crisis point may be national or even global in scale. Or it may be a boiling-over point at your workplace or in your family. It may even be a seismic shift within your own heart.
This passage about pitting household members against each other reminded me of a conversation in the kitchen a few Sundays ago, when my daughter-in-law Tamara was imagining a team for the reality show The Amazing Race, in which participants have to go on a frenzied scavenger hunt through Canada to win a big huge prize package. "I would want Torben on my team," she said sensibly, knowing her handyman husband would be able to build them shelter and see to other practical matters, "but he wouldn’t want me. He would forfeit the prize and tap out after I moaned for the 5,000th time how cold I was."
I was thinking about this afterward. We have been saturated in reality-show mentality since the show Survivor launched on American TV in 2000, spawning literally hundreds of other so-called reality shows since. The expression to be "voted off the island" has become part of our common parlance, and the mentality behind it has seeped insidiously into our worldview.
In essence, to "vote someone off the island" is to put your own needs and wishes first and to heck with the rest. It is cancel culture on cable. But in actual reality, we don’t get to choose who is on our island. And thank goodness for that, because we would no doubt fail to include islanders or teammates whose gifts may be less obvious, but whose presence is no less critical to our collective thriving as a beloved community.
So how are we to walk in this fraught world that is riven by ecological and political strife? How are we to stand up and speak up for the world and people God holds dear? Jesus says in the gospel today that he is come to sow division - what are we to make of that? We see signs of a divided society around us already - do we really want more of the same?
Well, Jesus was also the guy who chastised Peter for cutting off the soldier’s ear when Jesus was seized in the Garden of Gethsemane. Jesus healed the solder even as he himself was being taken away for his rushed trial and execution. And Jesus was the guy who told us to love and pray for our enemies. I don’t think Jesus wants daughters-in-law to be pitted against their mother-in-law in perpetuity, at least for my sake I hope not. But Jesus does want us to get crystal clear about what we are called to believe and what we are called to do.
Perhaps Jesus’s philosophy is in line with the very popular "Let Them" theory currently being promoted by author and podcaster Mel Robbins. The Let Them theory says that if people are doing something you don’t like, let them. If your friends or loved ones are making choices that upset you, let them. If all the traffic lights are turning red on your morning commute, let them. Instead of focussing your time and energy on changing others or cursing traffic lights, use it to change yourself and the choices that are in your control.
Jesus wasn’t a podcaster, but he had similar advice to the disciples he sent out to spread his message in surrounding towns and cities. If people don’t like what you have to say, he said, shake the dust off your feet and move on. To symbolically shake the dust off one’s feet is to say that I have tried my best and I’m getting nowhere, so I am going to where I can actually do some good. It isn’t giving up and letting the negative forces win the day - it’s about refusing to keep banging your head against the wall, and choosing instead to expend your resources in a way that will bring positive change.
Is there a situation in your life, or in our shared life, that has been causing you frustration or pain? Do you feel locked in a stalemate, or constrained in your good work because of disagreements about how something should be done? Perhaps this week you can ask God to untangle you from that place where you feel stuck and help you become clear about what you can do to be faithful to Jesus while navigating the world around you. What might you do with the time and energy you free up by walking away from the need to control others’ opinions and actions in order to focus on your own? Where can we transform our despair over frustrated hopes into an unblocking of our energy and spirit?
We don’t have to walk away from the people in our lives; we simply have to walk away from the dynamics that may be holding us back from doing the work we are called to do. Stepping away from fruitless endeavour frees us up to tend God’s vineyard in ways that do encourage a good harvest.
Paul warns us in his letter to the Hebrews that things in this life will not always go the way we would hope. But regardless of immediate outcome, staying true to Christ’s call to love and serve others can only shape our world - and our soul - for good.
It isn’t always easy work. So let’s close by asking God’s help in this.
Holy one, it is written that we are made in your image, and yet we have so often laid waste to your vineyard and failed to produce the fruit that nourishes. Help us face with courage the reckonings that are due, and in accordance with your values may we dedicate our words and our deeds to making the world come right. Let us run the race set before us with perseverance, though the way at times may ask us to sacrifice our easy comforts, our false assumptions, or the complacency that has clouded our vision and allowed wrongdoing to go unchecked.
May the communion of saints who have gone before inspire us in this holy work, and may the prophets of this age spur us to action for the common good. All this we ask in the name of Jesus Christ, who told us to love our enemies and to pray across every division. Amen.