Sunday, April 7, 2019

Sermon Text: Luke 20:9-20, April 7, 2019

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.  Amen.

The text this morning is from the Gospel according to Luke, the 20th chapter:
And he began to tell the people this parable: “A man planted a vineyard and let it out to tenants and went into another country for a long while. When the time came, he sent a servant to the tenants, so that they would give him some of the fruit of the vineyard. But the tenants beat him and sent him away empty-handed. And he sent another servant. But they also beat and treated him shamefully, and sent him away empty-handed. And he sent yet a third. This one also they wounded and cast out. Then the owner of the vineyard said, ‘What shall I do? I will send my beloved son; perhaps they will respect him.’ But when the tenants saw him, they said to themselves, ‘This is the heir. Let us kill him, so that the inheritance may be ours.’ And they threw him out of the vineyard and killed him. What then will the owner of the vineyard do to them? He will come and destroy those tenants and give the vineyard to others.” When they heard this, they said, “Surely not!” But he looked directly at them and said, “What then is this that is written: “ ‘The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone’? Everyone who falls on that stone will be broken to pieces, and when it falls on anyone, it will crush him.” The scribes and the chief priests sought to lay hands on him at that very hour, for they perceived that he had told this parable against them, but they feared the people. So they watched him and sent spies, who pretended to be sincere, that they might catch him in something he said, so as to deliver him up to the authority and jurisdiction of the governor. 
Thus far the text.

My dear friends in Christ,
     The Pharisees were after Jesus once again.  But they just weren’t getting it.  They didn’t get the depth of their own sin.  It wasn’t that they were going after Jesus; it wasn’t that they were trying to entrap Him in one of their ridiculous hypotheticals.  It was that they were deeply, deeply guilty of crimes against a holy God and they did it all wrapped up in their own robes of righteousness, which before God looked like nothing more than dirty underwear that had been worn already for a week without washing.  More than that, by their own, self-made righteousness, they were taking the beloved children of God and making them into monsters who believed themselves to be angels.

     We do this.  We do what we want, we have our own rules, our own expectations for our own lives.  And sometimes, this seems like a good thing.  Like New Years’ resolutions, right?  These can be great helps to us: losing weight, drinking less, reading more, giving to charity.  These acts that we set up for ourselves can help make us better people, living in a society that doesn’t value anything except what it can get immediately.  To live by our own rules, our own sets of conduct, our own moral codes, well, it makes life more enjoyable, more satisfying, more fulfilling.  Until we turn it on others.  And, keep in mind that I’m talking about our own moral codes, not the code of the Scripture, the Holy Law of God.  I’m talking about what we set up for ourselves.  These can be good, until we turn around and blast someone else in the face.

     Now, I’m not a small man, but, I used to be larger, 340 pounds.  Then I lost weight through diet and exercise and the help of a diet program.  Man, I was doing well.  I went from 340 to 220 in less than a year, and I felt great.  I started thinking I had it down, and what I didn’t notice is that I started looking down on others who weren’t doing the same, who weren’t taking care of themselves the way I thought they should.  I started telling them that.  I was insufferable, but I never noticed it.  I had taken this wonderful thing that had happened for me and turned it against others and just alienated people.  Now, I wasn’t thinking that, because I lost this weight, I was more righteous is the eyes of God, but I that I had it all figured out.

     Imagine, then, the Pharisees, who had life figured out, ways that they could use to try to obey the Law of God.  These were good men, well-respected in their communities.  Everyone looked up to them.  You wanted to know what a good life looked like, a life where you loved God with all that you had, you looked to the Pharisees.  And they were good.  But they turned this kind of holy living into something monstrous, something by which they thought they did earn God’s favor, were they made themselves more righteous in the eyes of God.  And when they did that, they actually began to confess, with their lives, that their rules were how one became holy, not by the grace and mercy of a holy, loving God.

     They confused their obedience with true holiness, never wanting to realize that they, even by all their good works, all their righteous acts, were still sinners through and through.  That’s the thing: it doesn’t matter how much good we do, we’ll never be able to make up for the evil sin that we’ve committed.  We can’t.  We may desire to, and that’s understandable when you’ve been brought to faith in Jesus Christ, but one good deed doesn’t make up for an evil one.  50,000 good deeds will never make up for the whitest of lies.  If you lie once, you’re a liar forever.  If you steal once, you’re a thief forever.  If you sin once, you’re a sinner forever.

     But, the Pharisees refused to acknowledge that truth, to confess that they were sinners.  And without confession, there is no forgiveness.  That’s not repentance, that’s hubris of the highest order.  And on top of that, they began to drag others down with them.  These were good men, even chosen men who could serve the people of God by preaching to them what God’s Word says, and they rejected it.  They did with God’s Law what they wanted; they turned it from a story of the grace of God in the face of great sin, to a set of rules to earn the favor of God.  We still do this, by the way, when we take the Bible and make it into a wonderful little storybook about how God has given us basic instructions before leaving earth.  Have you heard of that?  Let’s all get good and holy so that we’ll totally be prepared for what’s to come.  Let’s make ourselves holy so that maybe God won’t have to do so much work on us.

     But, that’s the problem.  God can’t go to work on sinners; they’re always sinners.  His only recourse is to destroy them; He has to kill us.  We’re sinner and we deserve death, so that is what God gives us.  The smallest of sins deserves, in the face of a holy and righteous God, eternal death and punishment.  Unless, of course, there’s a way to face death in a way where the punishment has already been doled out.  That is Baptism.  This is why we’re Lutheran, because Baptism is such a wonderful gift.  God kills us in the water and the Word and delivers into us the death of Christ.  This death He suffered was the punishment for all sin, and that was once and for all poured out on that Man, that Jesus.  He took all the punishment, so that, when you are baptized into His death, the punishment passes over you, and you receive the gift of perfect righteousness.  Baptism makes it so that you die, but you receive the reward you don’t deserve; you receive everlasting life.

     But, the Pharisees didn’t want this, and we struggle with this, too.  We want our own holiness more than God’s.  We think we can make it on our own.  That’s why Jesus tells this parable, that these Pharisees we given the entire vineyard, the entire people of God to love and nurture, and when God sent His messengers and servants, the prophets, to bring the fruit of the harvest, the people whom God has loved, back to the Father, they killed the prophets.  You’d think they would turn it over to God, but Jesus reveals that they di the opposite; they try to keep it all, even their own “righteousness” for themselves.  And because they beat and killed the servants of God, you would expect Him to come and reign down wrath on their heads, but He keep showing mercy.  One murder would be enough for the Master to go to war against these fools, but He keeps sending more prophets.  Eventually, just when you think the Master should have had enough, He sends the Son.

     Sounds like a great idea, God.  Send your Son, even after they’ve treated everyone else abominably.  I’m sure that’ll go well.  But these fools conspire to kill the Son, which is exactly what you’d expect for them.  Stupidly, they expect to keep the whole vineyard for themselves.  Think of that.  Kill the Son, inherit the harvest.  It’s dumb.  It’s not right-thinking.  There must be something wrong with them.  And that’s the point.  They’re not thinking rightly.  They think too highly of themselves.  They’re not seeing how deranged they actually are.  And that’s us, too.

     When Jesus told them this parable, the Pharisees knew exactly what He was saying.  They knew He was accusing them of being these evil men.  They knew that what Jesus was saying was their time was up, God was done with them, and He was passing on the vineyard to others.  They couldn’t believe it.  They were good men!  They were righteous!  Certainly, as leaders of men, leaders of Israel, God wouldn’t take it away from them, and, even if He did, He wouldn’t give to outsiders, foreigners, those wicked and nasty Gentiles.  But that’s what Jesus said, and that’s exactly what God did.  He stripped Israel away from the Pharisees, from their own, self-made laws, and gave the Law, and now also the clear Gospel, the Gospel which has been true since before even the world was created, He gave the Law and the Gospel to His Church, His beloved.

     We must also, then, be careful, for if we fall into our own self-made laws, or if we think of ourselves more highly than we ought, God may also take away His gifts from us.  Some have thought that God is already doing this.  I wonder if their right.  Luther wrote that the Gospel was like a passing rain shower, coming down in one place for a while and then moving on to the next.  Perhaps the Church is nearing its end in America; perhaps it’s the judgment of God for all of the inanity we pass off as piety, for all the stuff we try to do instead of relying on God’s Word and Sacraments.  Perhaps the Gospel is moving.  Already, the Church in the Global South is exploding.  Confessing, orthodox congregations are filling to bursting in Africa.  Maybe God is doing a new thing there.  Maybe.  But the Church is still here, and we are still here.  And as long as we are here, we shall do what God commands: we shall be faithful.

     The Pharisees, when they heard Jesus’ parable, looked for a way to trap Him and kill Him.  We could do that, too, turning away from what God is calling us, too.  I’d rather, however, that we be faithful.  What does that look like?  It means to repent of our sins, to recognize them, confess them to God and one another, and find the forgiveness won by Jesus Christ given to us through the Word of God.  It looks like remembering our Baptisms, maybe even making the sign of the cross, so that we remember that the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit has been placed upon us, not just to remind us that we have a call to holy living, but that we remember that, no matter what else may come, we have an advocate with the Father, and we shall be guarded unto all eternity.  It looks like receiving the Holy Supper as often as we can, taking the true flesh and blood of Christ into us for our forgiveness and the strengthening of faith until that day, and making a sign that we are united together against all who threaten the ways of God Himself, that we would follow God rather than man.  It looks like dedicating ourselves to hearing God’s Word as much as we can, learning from it, learning what it is that we confess in this place, comparing it to the Word of God.

     We can go three ways: we can go the way of the Pharisees and do what we want, thinking we are good in and of ourselves.  We can be lazy and just let it all happen to us, as long as there’s a pastor up there, we’re probably fine.  Or we can be faithful.  We can confess the monsters we are, and receive the righteousness of the Perfect One, a free gift for all who believe.  I’m going to try the latter, and you should, too.  The world will hate us for it, but take heart, the One who has overcome the world has made a way, and that way, which is death through the waters of Baptism, is life eternal, the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.  In His name, amen.

     Now may the peace of God which passes all human understanding guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, our Lord!  Amen.

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