Decide for Yourself
Matthew 21: 23-32 (NIV)
Jesus entered the temple courts, and, while he was teaching, the chief priests and the elders of the people came to him. “By what authority are you doing these things?” they asked. “And who gave you this authority?” Jesus replied, “I will also ask you one question. If you answer me, I will tell you by what authority I am doing these things. John’s baptism—where did it come from? Was it from heaven, or of human origin?” They discussed it among themselves and said, “If we say, ‘From heaven,’ he will ask, ‘Then why didn’t you believe him?’ But if we say, ‘Of human origin’—we are afraid of the people, for they all hold that John was a prophet.” So they answered Jesus, “We don’t know.” Then he said, “Neither will I tell you by what authority I am doing these things. “What do you think? There was a man who had two sons. He went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work today in the vineyard.’ “ ‘I will not,’ he answered, but later he changed his mind and went. “Then the father went to the other son and said the same thing. He answered, ‘I will, sir,’ but he did not go. “Which of the two did what his father wanted?” “The first,” they answered. Jesus said to them, “Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God ahead of you. For John came to you to show you the way of righteousness, and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes did. And even after you saw this, you did not repent and believe him.
So this week I've got a story to tell you, about two of my old friends from my college days. Let's call them Anne and Nicole.
Nicole was very spiritual. She called herself a born-again Christian, and Jesus was her everything. The first time I ever talked to Nicole the very first thing she told me was all about how much she loved Jesus. To say that Jesus was her Lord and Savior isn't hardly enough. Jesus was absolutely the core of her whole being. Jesus was her best friend, her brother, her teacher, her healer, her comforter, her lover, her everything. The first thing she did every morning, and the last thing she did every night, was pray. Before she did anything, she thought about what Jesus would do. And even though she was heading into a totally secular profession, she was determined to live a Godly life, and to glorify Jesus in everything she did--I'd never heard of applied mathematics being such a holy major.
Nicole was from a very evangelical background, in a big city, and believed a very important part of loving Jesus as much as she did was telling people about him--quite the gutsy move in a very secular school like the U of R where quite a good number of students, if I speak from my own experience, don't believe in God and think you must not be very smart or studious if you do. So she wrote Gospel quotes everyday on the white board outside of her room, so people passing in the hallway would catch a glimpse of the words of Jesus. Then she'd go to the communal girls restroom in the dorm, and tape pieces of paper on the walls with uplifting, Jesus-centric quotes written on them. She invited everyone she knew, and a few people she didn't, to go to Sunday morning worship and Wednesday evening Bible Study with her. And while she was sitting around in her dorm room studying, she would leave her door open and play Gospel music on her stereo, letting the words of those songs echo down the hallway.
Jesus was Nicole's everything, and The Way, The Truth, and The Life for her. And if she ever had a question about anything, she brought it to Jesus in prayer, and faithfully waited for an answer.
Then there was my friend Anne. And she was absolutely as spiritual as Nicole, but had a whole different God-language to express it with. Unlike Nicole, who grew up in an urban, evangelical church, Anne grew up going to parochial schools in the suburbs, and attended a pretty traditional, conservative church with her parents. Anne's faith was the most important part of her life, and she lived that faith out in her personal, private prayer and devotional time. Anne's also one of the smartest people I've ever known in my life--she's working on her master's thesis right now--and she came to the U of R so she could be surrounded by other brilliant minds who could engage her. So after she'd been to Sunday service, after she'd read her scripture, and after she'd said her prayers, she loved getting into deep, involved, intellectual conversations with other people about her faith. And twelve years of parish school made her quite learned. She could quote scripture off the top of her head. She could tell you about philosophers, and poets, and psychologists, and scientists, and tell you about their studies, their works, their reasoning, and how they made her feel that much stronger about her beliefs.
The really interesting thing about both Anne and Nicole, though, was how they felt about our Church's teachings. When we'd sit around and talk about controversial, worldly issues (which happens so often when you're finally voting age and surrounded by political science majors), both Nicole and Anne felt fairly certain that they knew what was right and ethical because of their faith. Anne, especially, would say that her favorite part about her devout beliefs was that she felt like she didn't have to question right from wrong, because the Church always pointed her in the direction of what is right. In fact, Anne pretty much felt like she didn't have to ask a whole lot of big questions at all, about right versus wrong, or about what she should do with her life, and certainly about God, because her Church provided really clear, dependable answers to all her questions. Truth be told, I've never met anyone with more certainty about the nature of God and the world than Anne and Nicole, and that kind of certainty really is not the norm in our Christian experience. Sometimes, that kind of certainty is downright enviable.
Sometimes we really wish we could be that certain about who God is, and how his plan is supposed to unfold in our lives. In this morning's Gospel passage, the chief priests and elders are looking to get that kind of certainty from Jesus--a totally clear, totally honest, no beating-around-the-bush answer about exactly who he is, and exactly where all this power and authority he has comes from.
Even though these temple leaders are so frequently depicted as antagonists to Jesus, especially in Matthew's Gospel, I can really feel for them in this story. They just want a succinct answer to a succinct question. How often do we ever get that from Jesus--either in the Bible, or in our daily lives?
Well the chief priests and elders don't get it this morning, either. They ask Jesus to explain to them how, and from whom, he has the power to do everything we've seen him do in the last twenty chapters. Jesus, of course, is smart enough to recognize right away that, as much as the chief priests and elders may want to believe they're asking a straight-forward question, that that's actually a rather complicated question, and if Jesus tries to answer it's very likely one of the temple authorities will take what he says and use it against him. So instead of just answering the question, he responds in kind. He says I'll answer your tricky question if you can answer mine. So riddle me this: how does my cousin, John, have the power to baptize? Realizing Jesus has put them in a tight spot, the chief priests and elders withdraw their question and give up.
Then, genuine as ever to his preferred teaching style, Jesus tells a parable. He takes his listeners back into the metaphorical vineyard, and he compares two brothers: one who says he'll go work in the vineyard, but never actually does, and one who says he won't go work in the vineyard, but then changes his mind and goes.
I don't blame the chief priests and elders for challenging Jesus to see if they can get him to just answer a question for once. And it can be pretty tempting to get frustrated with Jesus when all we want is a clear, straight-forward answer from him, and instead we get a riddle and a parable.
This is often exactly how it is between us and Jesus. And, as much as we might want to think, like my friends Anne and Nicole did, that Jesus will give us the answers for all of our questions, more often, as we pursue a meaningful relationship with him, we find ourselves with less answers and more and more questions.
We don't get a lot of certainty from our faith. We don't get a lot of straight-forward answers to complicated, controversial questions. That's not the kind of teacher Jesus is.
Rather, Jesus is the kind of teacher who wants us to keep thinking. He's the kind of teacher who wants us to spend a lifetime learning, not the kind of teacher who wants us to think we have it all figured out at once. And the more we learn about Jesus, the more we explore our faith, and the more questions we ask, the more we will grow in love with our Lord.
In the meantime, don't try to ask Jesus why he's worthy of our praise, as the Temple leaders did in this morning's Gospel. Instead, consider what you already know about him, consider what you've seen him do in your life, and consider how much our love-starved world needs him, and then you can decide for yourself who Jesus is and why he deserves our time and talents. At the end of he day, only you can decide if that's enough for Jesus to win your heart. No one but you can decide who your Lord and Savior will be.
And, if like my friends Anne and Nicole did, you do decide that Jesus is that Sovereign Lord of your life, you may never feel like Jesus answers all your questions, but, like Anne and Nicole, you can serve him with the open and honest heart of a willing servant.
Amen.
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