"What Do I Owe You?" - Sermon for the Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost

What Do I Owe You?
Pentecost 20A
October 18, 2020
Grace Waseca, MN
Matthew 22.15-22

Back in the late 70s and early 80s, the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson featured a segment called, “Stump the Band.” Johnny would go into the audience to ask someone to name a song they thought would do just that. Doc Severinsen, the leader, and Ed McMahon, Johnny’s sidekick would improvise if they didn’t know the song in question, often quite humorously. It was a great way for Johnny to interact with the audience while providing some laughs.

Many of the religious leaders of the day have trying to play “Stump the Messiah” with Jesus. This has been going on since Jesus entered Jerusalem and cleansed the temple of the sellers and moneychangers. First it was the chief priests and scribes, then the Pharisees, and in today’s text it is the disciples of the Pharisees and the Herodians who have tried to nail him. It’s an unlikely but probably politically expedient alliance, for the Pharisees chafed under Roman rule, but were quietists and went along to get along, while the Herodians were most like supporters of Herod, the Roman puppet governor, and thereby collaborators with Rome. Today the issue is whether to pay taxes to the Roman Emperor Caesar, a brutal and oppressive occupying force.

Yet, the issue goes deeper than agreeing to pay taxes to an occupying nation. Jews were forbidden to handle anything that had “graven images” on it. It was considered idolatrous and blasphemous to do so. This was especially true with Roman coins, which not only carried the image of Caesar Augustus, but also had an inscription of him claiming to be god. Jesus unmasks their hypocrisy when he asks for a coin and they are able to produce one quickly; someone had to be carrying one in his purse. But he not only unmasks their malice, he unmasks their inability to see God working in, with and through Jesus.

At first glance, it seems that Jesus deftly evades their trap and removes himself from the horns of the dilemma by distinguishing between church and state. Indeed, Martin Luther and Lutherans after him are known for their “two kingdoms” or “two realms” teaching. The relationship between church and state is an important conversation, but too much for here. Besides, I don’t think Jesus is doing that here. You see, some people believe that Jesus was somehow apolitical and that politics don’t belong in the pulpit. But Jesus was very political, questioning the corrupt powers in both empire and the religious system. They forget that it was the political system, threatened by him, that ended up “nailing him” every bit as much as the religious system.

In his object lesson with the coin, Jesus is reminding us that we are in this world but not of it. As Luther Seminary professor Rolf Jacobson notes, Jesus in his words “at once free us to live with the emperor but to live for God.” [Emphasis mine.] It seems that Jesus wants us to figure out what it means to give to God the things that are God’s so that we can figure out how live in this world with faithfulness and integrity as his disciples. This past week I’ve thought deeply about what this means. Two thoughts came to mind. First are Jesus’ answer to the question about the greatest commandment: “Love the lord your God with all of your heart, soul, and mind, and the second is like it: love your neighbor as yourself.” Second, the well-known words of the prophet Micah: “What is required of you? Do justice, love kindness, walk humbly with your God.” Maybe you have some other ideas.

We live a transactional existence, meaning we do things to get things. We often say to someone, “What do I owe you?” But when we ask that question in our relationship with God, the answer is both “nothing” and “everything.” God gives us everything with no strings while at the same time we owe everything we have because of God. We love because God first loved us and we give our all because God has given us his all. Jesus is not an auditor for God’s “Spiritual IRS,” but rather one who invites us to give as he gave on the cross. In this charged political climate, God’s blessings as you navigate what it means to follow Jesus. That may stump you from time to time, but that’s okay; we’re called to be faithful, not perfect. Thanks be to God. Amen.

To watch the sermon on the worship video click here.

"Letting Go[d]" - Sermon for the 18th Sunday after Pentecost

 Letting Go[d]
Pentecost 18A
October 4, 2020
Grace, Waseca, MN
Matthew 21.33-46; Philippians 3.4b-14

When I was a boy, my Aunt Elaine and Uncle Vern had a dog. His official name was “Fritzie von Grensing,” but we call him Fritz or Fritzie. A Weimaraner, Fritzie was a big dog that we got to “dog-sit” occasionally, much to my delight. Whenever he came, Fritz always brought a beat-up rug with which he loved to play Tug-of-War with us (and we with him). Of course, Fritz could hang on to that rug, never letting go, until we got tired and gave up. That often happened when he’d work his way up the rug coming perilously close to our hands. When we gave up, then he’d drop the rug, look at us, and beg us to play again. But, as soon as we reached for it, he would snatch it up again, holding on for dear life.

In our Gospel reading from Matthew, Jesus tells a parable about tenants in a vineyard who couldn’t let go, of produce and of their position as temporary renters. Now, as a reminder of the story’s context, Jesus is in Jerusalem and has cleansed the temple. The tension between him and the religious leaders is palpable. Clearly, Jesus is not happy. He indicates that they’ve abused their God-given responsibilities. On their end, they’re not happy with him either and they are even afraid of his popularity with the crowds. Last week we heard how they’ve failed the pop quiz about John the Baptist and Jesus’ authority. They also got zinged by a parable about two sons: one son said he was going to work in the vineyard and didn’t; and the other son said he wouldn’t go but did. In today’s follow-up parable about the wicked tenants, they get snookered into condemning their own behavior.

I’ve been amazed at the various responses to this parable and its aftermath. Some readers wonder if the tenants revolted because of the landowner’s oppression. Some are appalled at the violence that seems to be promoted in the text. Other readers thought the landowner naïve, believing the wicked tenants could change their minds by sending his son. Still others want us to be cautious about being anti-Semitic, to remember Jesus is talking to the elites of the day and not all Jewish people. Of course, the religious leaders are furious, especially since they’re hooked by their own words.

Clearly the text operates on us differently and multiple levels as Bible stories often do. But (ironically), I have not been able to let go of the issue of letting go, like the monkey whose hand is trapped in a coconut. (Some hunters put bait in a hollowed-out coconut attached to a stake. The coconut has a hole just large enough for a monkey to put its hand through. When it grabs the bait, the monkey cannot remove its hand, not even to save its life.) The religious leaders have not been able let go of their favored position and status. More importantly, they’ve not been able to let go of their ideas about how God is working in the world through Jesus. For us, the text holds up what may be an uncomfortable mirror: it asks, “What are we holding onto, not letting go?”

This is an important question for us, both as individuals and as a community of faith. We need to acknowledge that there are things that we cling to that get in the way of our relationship with God through Jesus Christ. In the Second Reading from Philippians, the Apostle Paul tells how has had to let go of key pieces of his former identity. He reminds us that we are on a journey of faith that opens us up to what God is doing in us and there are things we cling to that may be holding us back. That’s also true for Grace Lutheran in discerning God’s mission and ministry as you seek a new senior pastor. What are you hanging onto that you need to let go?

Yet, even as we contemplate about letting go, we are always reminded that God never lets go of us. We need to acknowledge that the violent response offered by the religious leaders is not God’s response. For God keeps coming to us, inviting us into a life-giving relationship. We may be like monkeys with our hands trapped in a coconut, but God is like Fritz with his rug, never letting go. As the Apostle Paul notes, we press on in the journey because God has made us, his beloved, his own. In Jesus Christ, God wants us to know that he will never give up on us, no matter what. Thanks be to God! Amen.

To watch a video version of this sermon, click on here.