Grace to you and peace from our loving God, and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.
As was true last Sunday, this morning we see again a correspondence between the Old Testament and Gospel readings. Even the Psalm picks up the theme—that of God's vineyard.
Isaiah uses the image to bemoan evil fruit produced from God's holy planting of the vineyard called Israel:
He dug it and cleared it of stones, and planted it with choice vines; he built a watchtower in the midst of it, and hewed out a wine vat in it; he expected it to yield grapes, but it yielded wild grapes...
For the vineyard of the Lord of hosts is the house of Israel, and the people of Judah are his pleasant planting; he expected justice, but saw bloodshed. (Isaiah 5:2,7)
The psalmist takes pains to acknowledge that it was the Lord who did the careful and thorough preparation, planting, and tending of the vineyard; and then uses this reference to God's great investment as a basis for an appeal for new grace:
Turn now, O God of hosts, look down from heaven; behold and tend this vine; preserve what your right hand has planted. (80:14)
In the gospel, Jesus quotes Isaiah, nearly verbatim, and builds the image into a parable:
There was a landowner who planted a vineyard, put a fence around it, dug a wine press in it, and built a watchtower. Then he leased it to tenants and went to another country... (Matt. 21:33)
When the tenants prove unfaithful and abusive to the landowner, Jesus' hearers pronounce the proper judgment:
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. (v.41)
Jesus adds the metaphor of a stone, rejected by one set of builders, but used as the cornerstone for a different crew, and then clarifies the awful consequences for those who were given the first chance.
Therefore I tell you, the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people that produces the fruits of the kingdom. (v.43)
One might well wonder where it is possible to find a word of gospel in these law-laden passages of scripture. I think that there are at least two possibilities:
One is much like the gospel we discovered last Sunday. Then it was chief priests and prostitutes. Today it's all of the initial tenants of the vineyard. And the gospel is that God keeps the door open. If we turn back to God, if we yield ourselves to the fruit-producing grace of God, we and the vineyard stand in a place that is preserved from judgment. The parables are calls to repentance, and—as noted last Sunday—continuing repentance is where our hope lies.
To find the other good news, we turn to the epistle for the day. Paul writes:
I regard everything as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things, and I regard them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but one that comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God based on faith. (Phil. 3:8-9)
All the law of Isaiah, the Psalms, and even of the parables of Jesus becomes subsumed under the gracious gift of the righteousness of Christ. Indeed, the first, sweetest, and most fruitful produce of the vineyard is to be gained through the One who by accepting all judgment on our behalf thereby makes all such judgments void.
Remember that Jesus speaks some exceedingly harsh words this morning.
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. (v.41)
But the one who speaks them is also the one who suffers our sentence, and our second chance at tenancy in the vineyard comes only by grace. Your hear, don't you, the foreshadowing here of Jesus death? He is the wretch put "to a miserable death"; and the vineyard, his to lease as he wishes, is ours as a gift.
Long ago, God cleared the stones from a very fertile hill intended for a vineyard. God planted it, provided fully for its protection, and even made ready for the joy of those who would reap the harvest by hewing out a wine vat in it. When it all came to naught, God planted Jesus there. And through this one who accepts for us the righteous judgment of the Father, a new vineyard has begun—with new rules, new joy. And in this vineyard, it is the stones of our hearts that get cleared, the hedge of Christ's righteousness that is set about it, and the protection of God's grace that stands as a watchtower within. Against such a vineyard, no power can threaten, no evil can ruin, no waste can destroy.
This is the context, the framework, the universe, in which we live and move, have our being and work. All that is good is from God. All that we are and have is of God. All that we become and produce belongs to God.
And here it is that we find peace-but not peace alone. These readings push us, once we understand their grace, to consider again the law that shapes them. Think of the great passion of God's hopes and intentions for the vineyard. Ponder the huge disappointment that is God's, recounted in the words of Isaiah, when wild grapes arise where good and sweet grapes for wine might have been. He cries out:
What more was there to do for my vineyard that I have not done in it?
God is in anguish over the loss of what might have been because the workers failed to tend the vineyard diligently.
And then contemplate the amazing patience of the landowner who sends, again and again, his emissaries to bring back evidence of fruitful labor. Still, repeatedly, his efforts are repudiated and treated with contempt.
It is that anguished, hopeful, provident, patient, and compassionate heart of God that strikes me as manifestly worth lifting up this morning. We-the Church—are God's kingdom demonstration project. There is no aspect of preparation that has not been taken. The grace and the gifts have been bestowed. And the contract—the covenant—has been sealed. In the face of such abundant provision, how can we do otherwise than our absolute best!
At a church meeting, a man of considerable means rose to tell about his faith. "I'm a millionaire," he said, "and I attribute my wealth to the blessings of God in my life." He went on to recall the turning point of his faith. As a young man he had just earned his first dollar and he went to a church meeting that night, where a missionary discussed his work. At the time of the offering for the mission work, the man knew that he would either have to give it all to God or nothing at all. So, at that moment, he decided to give all that he had to God. Looking back now, he basked in a facile certainty that God had blessed that decision and made him wealthy.
When he had finished, there was a palpable silence. As he sat down in his pew, the elderly lady next to him leaned over and said, "I dare you to do it again."
Sometimes we begin with good intentions, we plant the seeds of faith, giving, and Christ-like living that reflect our gratitude for grace. But keeping at it all the way through to the harvest is quite a challenge. It's all too easy to forget whose vineyard we're working. It is too tempting to imagine that the harvest and the land belong to us.
We have those same temptations in the church. It too, of course, belongs to God; we are but its caretakers. And we are all responsible for its mission and ministry. But we begin to feel possessive. "We're doing all the work here, so it's our church, and we will determine the mission and ministry of our church, and we will decide who's included and who's left out." The gospel today reminding us that in all of our decisions and our dealings with one another, this is God's church, not ours. We have a God who gifts us with grace and then trusts us to carry out the work of tending, bearing fruit, ministering faithfully in a suffering and broken world.
What's more, we get to gather here each week and receive new strength for that mission. How appropriate to this particular set of lessons from scripture that the means of our renewal takes the form of the fruit of the vine. At the table of grace, in unity with the Holy Spirit, we become the body of Christ, growing in faith and love. Through God's grace, we are joined to one another and unified in Christ, the true vine. And in praise and honor of God's gracious invitation to love and to serve, we pray together: "Let the vineyards be fruitful, Lord, and fill to the brim our cup of blessing." And "As this cup of blessing is shared within our midst, may we share the presence of your love."
The fruits of the Spirit are many. May they show forth in the vineyards of our lives. Amen.
May the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep our hearts and minds through faith in Christ Jesus our Lord, unto eternal life. Amen.