No fears though, we've got you covered. Here's the message (preached by Ed Bird) you missed!
This lesson from next Sunday’s Gospel (Matthew 20:1-16, Laborers in the Vineyard) might at first glance suggest there are two kinds of people in the world. Those of us who have done a bit of study or heard any sermons on it know that it is about God’s unlimited grace. But I want to talk about what I see as the underside of God’s unlimited grace, and why it’s needed. We need God’s grace for a lot of reasons, not the least of which is that in this case there aren’t two kinds of people but one. We all struggle with being self righteous. We see it in the Church… a WHOLE lot. We see it everyday everywhere else, too.
Let’s talk about Jerry and Jess and their story of self righteousness gone amuck. Jerry and Jess are a couple of people I have known since grade school. In the 5th grade, Jerry and Jess became the best of friends. They made Frick and Frack look like oil and water. They were tight; they got in trouble together, cut up in church together, had the same friends and went to each others houses for birthdays and holidays. When Jess rode his bike into oncoming traffic, Jerry was on the handlebars. When Jerry fell off his bike and bumped his noggin, Jess gave him some ice (it was a popsicle really, but still….) Once I heard Jerry say “ah” and Jess say “choo.” You would always see them together, in class, at parties, on their bikes, and especially in the principal’s office. You would have thought they shared a kidney; they almost did, once, but that’s another sermon.
Jess and Jerry stayed tight throughout grade school, junior high, and high school. They took their shenanigans to new levels in high school. In 12th grade, their petty crimes and fast living got them in trouble, real trouble. As always in these sorts of affairs, the details are murky: some have forgotten; some won’t tell; and for some, the statute of limitations hasn’t quite run out.
But the best information is that Jess and Jerry and some other high school hooligans had done their (best): B.E.S.D: Breaking. Entering. Staying. Drinking.
And with BESD came SAM. Serving alcohol to Minors. Jerry was by no means the only clown in that circus. But he managed to take the fall and helped the others slip away. Jess opted out of the punishment sector of the affair. Jerry went away for a little while.
Jess on the outside waiting for Jerry’s return was like coffee looking for a cup. Jess looked like “French” waiting on “fries”. But one day soon Jerry would be a free man, and the so-called Powder Puff gang would ride again.
But things don’t always play out like we think they will. Things changed for the two of them when they got back on their horses of hijinks. Don’t get me wrong: the delinquency rate went up when they reunited. But something happened to make a change. It would be far too simple and misogynistic to say that Jess and Jerry fell out over a woman.
But fell out they did. Jess committed a horrible fraud on a good, kind and wonderful person; Jerry couldn’t go there and in undoing what Jess had done, Jerry swooped in to save the day. He sold Jess out to make better the harm Jess had caused. Jerry did a very good thing.
Jess, of course, didn’t see it that way. Jess sucked on that sweet, syrupy, self-righteousness you can savor when you feel betrayed. Jess thought he hadn’t asked for much but at least a little honor among thugs. He didn’t realize his actions had broken that code. He felt right, he felt betrayed, he was immeasurably resentful, and no one was ever going to take that away from him. Humans like to hold on to that self righteousness, that woundedness and that righteous indignation. No one was going to take that sweet resentment from Jess, not even God Almighty.
Other troubles soon arose for Jess that took his mind of his resentment of Jerry. Jess found himself neck deep in turmoil for several years. Blessedly, Jess took a hint from a friend that the Hound of Heaven was after him.
Jess soon found faith in his life, and a life in his faith. Jess found Jesus and jumped headlong into a gentler, sweeter life. A life of active faith was everything Jess needed and more. He began to live out his love for God trying to be kind more than he was mean, seeking justice more than his just due, and trying to be gracious rather than grinding his teeth. Jess’ life with prayer brought great passion for his life; he felt blessed in good times and bad.
Not long into his spiritual journey, Jess found himself at a point where he felt called to act. It wasn’t an easy matter. Jess saw suffering he thought he could and should alleviate. He saw in a hurting human being a chance to offer a balm and even better to prevent further harm. Jess thought his faith life was begging him to act to end a pattern of pain in the life of a Child of God. What was unique was that the person hurting was suffering at the hands of Jess’ former friend, Jerry. Jess could end this suffering not only for this one person but several with a few kind words. Jess heard the call of faith, and the counsel of his friends in faith, to stop a bad thing.
What Jess didn’t hear was the voice of a dear friend whom he had loved and nurtured for the whole of his adult life, quietly and unbeknownst even to himself. He spoke gently and convincingly in Jess’ ear. His name isn’t important really, but he had several: Resentment, Bitterness, Self Righteousness. Jess had fed and nurtured him in his feelings about Jerry. And he let the years go long nurturing his grudge. Resentment had been lifting weights all these years that Jess had silently nurtured him and he became huge and strong. He had been given a new name: Revenge. Revenge was not just strong but sweet; and of course, not just sweet but smart.
Revenge can piggy back on the voice of God, even mimic the voice of God when it whispers into the ear of the faithful.
Jess convinced himself that God was calling him to act. He told himself and maybe believed that “Vengeance was the Lord’s” but maybe he heard only “Vengeance IS my Lord”. At any rate, he acted.
Jess did what he felt he was called to do. He worked to soothe the suffering of a person, and to end that harm from the hands of another. Jess ripped the veil off of a villain, he told himself. And somewhere inside, Jess savored what he swore he wouldn’t: the deliciousness of a payback, almost perfectly fitting as an eye for an eye, and given the divine stamp of approval because he did it out of conscience in the name of his new found God. He realized this mostly in hindsight, many many years later.
I wonder how often I do this, what Jess did? Sure the story may be a bit more dramatic than most of our run of the mill day to day actions. How often do I find ill in others and say to myself “Tsk, that’s just pitiful. I’m glad I’m not like that.” How often am I a late worker in the vineyard feeling smug about the disgruntled early worker, saying how pitiful it is that they feel mistreated and I hope they get over it soon, not really meaning it but just feeling good because I think I’m on the high road? Meanwhile I don’t even acknowledge that I am getting something I really don’t deserve. How often am I an early worker, or the older brother of the Prodigal Son, glaring resentfully at children of God because God’s love and God’s grace falls heavily on them too? How ready am I to be jealous because God is generous? How not humble am I when I feel certain that other people are less pleasing to God? How off is my faith when I think so much about fixing other people in the name of my God? How unfaithful am I when I’m busy thinking about you and not busy thanking my God, not grateful that-- like rain --God’s grace falls on my enemies and my friends alike?
There’s an epilogue to Jess and Jerry’s little saga. Jess confided in me as he was growing in his faith that he began ever so slowly to realize over the years that his actions of kindness and interrupting malice so long ago weren’t just about doing right. He acknowledged as some might as they gain wisdom in life that he probably did a decent thing in some ways: there were people who remained grateful to him for his payback-laden act of kindness. Still he knows now as he never has before that he used his faith to rubber stamp a “stick it back to ya,” that this was at least part if not most of his motivation, even if he did not see it or chose not to see it at the time.
Jess and his wife recently had been working on a deal to buy their dream home. They were having to cut, scrimp, save, beg, borrow and steal to make it work. But sadly, it wasn’t working. They tearfully concluded that no matter what they did, their dream home, their first home, was just a few dollars out of their price range. They were heartbroken. They were working up the courage to call the realtor, when their phone rang. Their realtor called them.
She didn’t have the details, but the owner, Mr. Brown, had for some reason come way down on the price into a range far below the value of the home. The new price was not only one Jess and his wife could afford, but could pay much more easily and with fewer sacrifices, though many sacrifices they still would have to make. Jess and his wife thanked God earnestly for favor they had not earned.
It’s funny this story relates to the vineyard in one way: the grapevine is alive and well no matter who the laborers are. Through that grapevine, Jess and his wife began to get bits and pieces of information that humbled them deeply.
You see, Mr. Brown, the owner, the seller of the house they wanted to buy wasn’t a person they knew. But he had come to know of them. Jess didn’t know they had a mutual acquaintance.
Re-enter Jerry, Jess’ former friend. When Jess and Jerry parted ways, Jerry went to work on his career in earnest and he was now a successful businessman. He had a lot of friends in town, and one of his best friends was Mr. Brown, the homeowner Jess and his wife hoped to buy from. Jerry unintentionally found out who Mr. Brown’s buyers would be and learned of the hardship they were experiencing. For reasons unknown to Mr. Brown, and really for no known good reason, Jerry negotiated secretly with Mr. Brown to bring down the price. When Jerry couldn’t get it to where he figured Jess could afford it, Jerry offered money from his own pocket to subsidize the rest. Jess didn’t know this; the realtor didn’t know this; Mr. Brown didn’t know Jess and Jerry knew each other, much less their history of friendship turned sour and the sweetness of self righteous retribution.
Jess and his wife were shocked. Astonished. What would have been, could have been and by some accounts SHOULD have been years of resentment and bitterness and acts of vengeance had been folded ever so gently into one almost anonymous act of grace.
Jess wept. He soon got the nerve to face Jerry, who was still not a religious man by the way, who would have been dead right for hating Jess for having quite seriously “paybacked him” many years earlier. Jess worked through near-traumatic shock, which had only barely begun to morph into gratitude, and could only stammer the words, “Thank you”. He started to say “Im so sorry for…” before he collapsed into tears.
Jerry smiled at Jess. Not condescendingly. Not self righteously, not even righteously and for sure not religiously.
Jess said “I don’t deserve this; I haven’t done you a kindness or even called you a child of God.”
Jerry said, “Jess, I didn’t do it because you deserve it or to teach you a lesson. I sure didn’t do it for your God.” Jerry went on: “I did it because I love you.”
Grace comes in all sizes, shapes, and colors. Grace is most amazing when it comes from where you don’t expect it. Grace is most powerful when you know you don’t deserve it.
Lord, we know you are the landowner of the kingdom of heaven and the kingdom of earth. May we learn to labor in the vineyard graciously and gracefully and gratefully alongside one another; so that the kingdom of Earth may bear the Kingdom of heaven, so the visible world can be palpably pregnant with the invisible Power of your grace . In this we pray through your son. Amen.
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