A priest and a man who owns a soap making business are walking down a city street. The man says, “You know father, I don’t think the Christian message of repentance, forgiveness, and new life is doing much good.” The priest inquires why his companion believes this. His response: “Well, there are so many problems in the world and so many evil, nasty people.” They continue to walk in silence. After few blocks they happen upon a group of children covered in mud as they play in a dirty field. The priest says, “I see your soap hasn’t done much good either. Just think about all the dirty people out there.” The man responds, “Oh, my soap only does its job when a person applies it.” The priest says, “Well, the same holds true for the message of the Gospel.”
Deuteronomy 5:9 cannot
be clearer: “You shall not bow down to [false idols] or worship them; for I
the Lord your
God am a jealous God, punishing children for the iniquity of parents, to the
third and fourth generation of those who reject me.” This teaching becomes deeply ingrained in the
theology and psyche of the people of Israel.
But it runs deeper than believing the actions of the parents positively
or negatively influence who their children become. It believes God holds morally responsible children
and grandchildren for the failures of the first generation; that they shoulder the
punishment resulting from the sins of their ancestors.
Well, this may not seem
fair to you and, as we heard in today’s first reading, it certainly does not
seem fair to the Israelites living in exile in Babylon. They complain, “the parents have eaten sour grapes,
and the children’s teeth are set on edge.”
A more modern version might be “the parents ate all the candy, but the
children got the cavities.” If you are
the second or third generation living in Babylon, it feels as if your fate has
been sealed by something you never did. You
have been born into a massive debt you cannot possibly repay. It does not seem fair.
God agrees. God says, “From now on, only the person who
sins shall be punished. If a righteous
person turns to iniquity, this person will suffer. If a wicked person repents and does what is
right, this person will flourish.” I
prefer the language of “suffer” over “death” and “flourish” as opposed to “be
saved”, because these words preserve the connection between the goodness of what
God commands and the effect they have on us as we adhere to them or turn
away.
Jesus draws deeply from
the Ezekiel reading to craft the parable we heard this morning. When asked by their father to work in the
family vineyard, one son says no, but later changes his mind and works. The other son says he will work, but never
does. Jesus tells the story to
illustrate how “sinners” have believed in him, while religious leaders have
rejected him.
In plan words, it is not
what you say that matters, it is what you do that counts. There is an old saying sitting in a church
every Sunday makes you no more a Christian than sitting in a garage makes you a
car. Doing the faith matters more than
thinking the faith. After Hurricane
Harvey, Joel Osteen, whose sermons are seen by seven million people a week, was
roundly criticized for not opening immediately his church building – a former
sports arena – to people evacuated or flooded out of their home. It just didn’t seem very Christian or caring. It is not enough to talk the faith. You have to do it. Christianity has to be applied.
The truth is, none of us
is perfect, starting with me. Standing
on righteous soil, I make decisions all the time that lead to my suffering and,
sadly, to the suffering of others. And I
don’t need to stand in this pulpit and work hard to convince you that you are
the same. We all identify with the
phrase “You that have tried to follow, and you (like me) who have fallen
short.”
The passage from
Deuteronomy is grounded in God’s justice – in the belief some things are right,
other things are wrong, and if you do what is wrong you will be punished. Today’s readings from Ezekiel and the gospel
are grounded in God’s mercy – in the belief God’s love for every human being is
far more expansive than God’s justice.
Wrong is still wrong, but God’s strongest desire is for each person to
repent, to change, and to flourish; to live a life that is blessed and is a
blessing to others. Unlike what the
exiles in Babylon believe, we are not the victims of the sins of those who come
before us. We are free to turn and live.
It is a message Robert Robinson heard as he walked the streets on London
on a beautiful Sunday morning some time in the 18th century. All around him he saw people hurrying to
church, but even in the midst of this throng Robinson was all alone. There
was a time when church and practicing the faith was an integral and essential
part of his life. But for reasons lost
to history, those days were gone and Robinson spent years and years rejecting
the God he once loved. Once his faith
was fiery and passionate, but now it was dark and cold.
Robinson grew tired as he walked and hailed a passing carriage/cab. When he saw in it a young woman dressed for
church he waved on the driver, but the woman insisted they share the cab. He accepted and introduced himself as Robert
Robinson. Stunned, the young woman said, “This is such a coincidence because I
am reading this book of inspirational writings and just came across these words
by a Robert Robinson:
Come,
Thou Fount of every blessing,
Tune my heart to sing Thy grace,
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise.
Tune my heart to sing Thy grace,
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise.
Are you the author of these magnificent
words,” she asked? “I am,” Robinson
confessed, “but that was a long time ago.”
He continued to read the very words he had penned at a different era in
his life:
Prone to wander,
Lord, I feel it—
Prone to leave the God I love;
Prone to leave the God I love;
Robinson was
overcome with emotion and confessed, “I wrote these words—and I’ve lived these
words. ‘Prone to wander…prone to leave
the God I love.’” The young woman looked
tenderly into Robert’s eyes and said softly, “Yes, and you also wrote,
Here’s
my heart, O take and seal it,
Seal
it for Thy courts above.
You can offer
your heart again to God. It is never too
late.” At this very moment, Robert
Robinson turned his heart back to God and never turned away again.
We all carry burdens, some heavier or more poisonous than others. Some came into our lives at childhood through
no fault of our own, yet we still carry them today. Others come from choices we make, sometimes
daily. We didn’t start out to be at this
dark and destructive place, but here we are.
The good new in today’s readings is challenging news as well. The son who refuses to do the will of his
father can change his mind, roll up his sleeves, and get to work. His fate is not sealed. The punishment he merits is not
irrevocable. God, in God’s mercy,
desires for each one of us to choose to do those things that will help us to
flourish. The offer to turn and live is
unconditional.
Thinking of your own life, where do you need to apply the Gospel’s soap?