What Does Christ Have to Do With Me?

A sermon by Rev. Rebecca Segers

Matthew 21:23-32

Philippians 2:1-13 

The scripture lessons we heard this morning are very important.  And very personal.  They tell us who Jesus thought he was and who Paul thought Jesus was and help us to wrestle with who Jesus was and is and can be to us.

On the timeline of his life, Jesus has been preaching and teaching for about three years.  He is coming to the end of his earthly ministry and this is actually the last time that Jesus enters the temple.  The Jerusalem temple.  The one that only has a few more years before it is destroyed forever.  The most sacred spot on earth for the Jewish people.

This is the week after Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem on the donkey.  He has been lauded by the people, but he has also gone into the temple earlier this week and thrown out the money-changers and the vendors of sacrificial offerings.  He encountered the wrath of the scribes and the chief priests then and now he has returned to take them on again.  He comes into the temple and begins teaching.  People are crowded around him, listening to his words and trying to figure out how they might apply to them, just as we do today.

The high priests and elders see him surrounded by his followers and they begin to whisper to one another.  They are not happy about the fact that he’s surrounded by people listening to his teachings when earlier in the week, he pushed the status quo.  Remember, this is their house of worship; they are the leaders here.  This is their home turf and they don’t intend to give it up without a fight.

They are, after all, men who have given their lives to God and truly believe that they are doing what God asks of them.  They are at the top of their game, living in the largest metropolis in the country, working in the most prestigious house of God on earth.  They are the ordained high priests of God working in the Jerusalem temple, for goodness sake!  Then along comes this guy from the sticks of Nazareth who’s not ordained, he’s not of the priestly tribe of Levi, he’s never led even a small synagogue, on top of that he can’t read or write, but people are flocking to him for advice and comfort, for guidance and direction.  What the heck is this?  Who on earth gave him authority to do this?

Who on earth indeed?  That’s exactly the point that Jesus gets to with them.  When the chief priests come to him and ask him just that question: “By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?”, he answers their question with another question, “Did the baptism of John come from heaven or was it of human origin?”

Now this is a sticky question:  You see, by invoking John the Baptist, Jesus is doing two really savvy things.  Number one, he’s placing in the priests’ minds the image of all the prophets that have come before on behalf of the one true God.  They know that John has been accepted by the people as belonging to the illustrious line of Samuel and Elijah and Elisha, of Jeremiah and Ezekiel and Isaiah.  They may not agree, but they don’t want to incur the peoples’ wrath by saying that in public.

Number two, Jesus is setting himself up as the natural successor to John the Baptist.  So, whoever sent John, also sent him.  And if God sent Samuel, Elijah, Elisha, Ezekiel, Isaiah, Jeremiah and John, then God also sent Jesus.  And the priests definitely don’t want to go there.

So here is the great irony of the passage.  Rather than answer the question truthfully – either they don’t believe that John and Jesus were sent by the same God who sent all the prophets before them and if they admit that, they will suffer the anger of the people they supposedly serve, or they do believe that John and Jesus were Divinely sent and their own issues of authority are moot – but rather than answer the question truthfully they decide to say, “We don’t know.”

Now the answer “we don’t know” can sometimes be legitimate.  As a matter of fact, there are many occasions where it is better to admit ignorance rather than blindly set out without the necessary information.

The author Alexander McCall Smith has written a wry and slyly humorous series of books about Professor von Igelfeld, who is a German philologist – someone who studies the origins of words.  In the second book in the series, von Igelfeld is asked to travel to Fayetteville, Arkansas to lecture and it is not until he arrives that he realizes he has been mistaken for the esteemed veterinary Professor Igelfold from the same home country of Germany.  Rather than correct the error, von Igelfeld muddles through the lecture and is accepted somewhat puzzledly if appreciatively.  The fraud doesn’t stop there, however.  After returning home to Germany, Professor Leflar of the University of Arkansas contacts Professor von Igelfeld, wishing to visit him in Germany.  Well, Igelfeld is delighted because he truly enjoyed Professor Leflar’s company, but it is not until he’s agreed that he realizes he must now continue the deception on his home turf.  He manages to do so pretty effectively and is touring the state-of-the-art surgery facilities at his own University with the visiting professor when a dachshund is brought in after having been hit by a car.  Everyone insists that, by virtue of his academic and experiential credentials, von Igelfeld should be the one to operate.  Well, the esteemed and somewhat vain professor cannot bear to admit his ignorance, so he finds himself standing above the poor dog, trying to make a decision about what to do next.  Looking at the x-ray, it is clear that the right leg is broken, but since he’s absolutely utterly clueless, he decides to amputate.  Professor von Igelfeld manages to convince an intern to do the actual work while he supervises and he gives the young man the saw and tells him to take off the dog’s leg.  The poor veterinary assistant manages to do this, but afterwards he realizes that he has cut off the right leg, but the wrong leg.  He’s taken off the back right leg and the break is clearly in the front.  So now he must amputate another leg.  At this point the intern is shaking so badly, that von Igelfeld gently says, “Here, son, let me take the scalpel from your hand.”  Reaching for it, he slips and gouges the little dog’s other front leg.  It is now spurting blood all over the room and in a panic, the Professor amputates a third leg leaving the dog with only one leg that he was born with.  Ultimately the poor dog is fixed with wheels, but clearly, things would have gone a lot more smoothly if von Igelfeld could have simply said, “I don’t know.”

That is not the case with our chief priests and Pharisees in the scripture reading today, however.  They do know what they believe – although we may not – and whether it is in Jesus’ divine right to be teaching or not, they are not willing to share their opinions.  Since they are not willing to stand up for what they believe, Jesus will not directly share his answer with them either.

We sitting in this room attest to our belief that Jesus was the Son of God and had a divine right to teach and preach.  In so doing, we are following in the footsteps of Paul who proclaims to us how we are to behave as believers.  “If there is any encouragement in Christ, if there is any consolation from love, if there is any sharing in the Spirit, if there is any compassion and sympathy…be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind,” Paul writes.

In other words, if we find support in Christ, in love, in the Spirit, then we are to think together, work together, act together in harmony with God’s will.  Our objective is not ambition or self-advancement, but instead the advancement of God’s kingdom on earth.  Our focus is not on what makes us happy or contented or fulfills our needs, but is to be in the service of others.  This is one tall order.  I don’t know one single person in here, myself included, who automatically accomplishes this.

As a matter of fact, there is an old prayer that goes something like this: “Dear Lord, thank you so much for this day.  It has been absolutely lovely so far.  I have not been angry or snippy with anyone.  I’ve held my temper and my tongue.  I’ve thought of others and their wants and needs.  Everything has been harmonious and serene.  In short, today has been perfect so far.  But I’m going to get out of bed soon…”

Yet if we are to be Christians, followers of Jesus the Christ, then we are called to get out of bed and follow Jesus’ commandments: “To love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength” and “to love your neighbor as yourself.”  And to be perfectly frank, quite honestly sometimes, we don’t feel like it.  Or maybe we do mean to, but somehow it just doesn’t happen the way we imagine.

This is where the story that Jesus tells to the chief priests and the Pharisees comes in to help them along.  The parable following their little interchange is about two sons who respond differently to their father.  The father goes to the first son and asks him to work in the vineyard.  The first son is just not in the mood, he’s having a cranky day, who knows, maybe he didn’t get a good night’s sleep and his back hurts, or he hasn’t had his morning coffee, anyway, he just doesn’t feel like it and he says so, “I’m not going.”

So the father goes to the second son and the second son answers just what we all hope our children will.  He responds immediately, “I go, sir.”  Isn’t that nice?  It’s active, it’s got a “sir” at the end of the sentence, it’s respectful.  Gotta love that…except he doesn’t go.  He tells his father what he wants to hear, but he goes off and does his own thing anyway.

Meanwhile, the first son has reconsidered.  Maybe he had that cup of coffee and is beginning to rue his earlier words and he decides to go out and work in the fields.  He doesn’t come back and tell his father.  He simply goes out and does what he was asked to do.

Jesus then asks the chief priests and Pharisees, “Tell me, which of the two did the will of his father?”  The answer, of course: “The first.”  Then Jesus rubs it in: “The tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you.  For John came to you in the way of righteousness and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes believed him; and even after you saw it, you did not change your minds and believe him.”

The parable illustrates the point that God requires deeds rather than empty words.  The Pharisees and the Sadducees and the tax collectors and the prostitutes have all heard the words of John the Baptist and of Jesus.  The so-called good Jews say, “Yes, we will follow the Lord,” but ultimately, they reject Jesus and his message.  The opposite is true of the sinners.  They appear to initially have rejected God in their chosen lifestyles, but as they come to see the truth that Jesus portrays, they change their ways and follow him.

Folks, it’s real easy for us in this room to become the Pharisees and the chief priests.  It’s real easy for us to begin feeling good and patting ourselves on the backs because we made it into church this morning and we put money in the offering plate and we’re raising our children in the faith and we do our best to be good people.  It’s real easy for us to be the ones keeping the status quo judging who belongs in and who’s definitely out rather than really following the path of Jesus.

What is that path?  Let’s go back to Paul again.  He says, “Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God as something to be exploited, but emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, being born in human likeness.  And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death – even death on a cross.”

So even though Jesus knew that he was God, that God was in him and flowing through him, he didn’t abuse that power.  He didn’t say, “Well, hey, guys, you are just simply rotten to the core and clearly there needs to be a redistribution of power around here” and make a lightning bolt strike all the chief priests and scribes and Roman authorities and whoever else with whom he had a bone to pick.  He also didn’t do a redistribution of wealth thing so that the poor and the rich all had the same.  He didn’t make food grow where it was barren or hand out money or put the liars and cheaters and adulterers in jail.  In fact, just the opposite.  He stayed within the physical laws of planet earth and broke through the poverty and the pain and the injustice using the law of love.  Sometimes it was tough love, because he told the truth.  He didn’t give you an “I don’t know” when he did.  But no matter where you were or who you were, he was there to invite you in.

So whether you are the first son who didn’t feel like it, who was having a bad day, or would actually rather spend time with his girlfriend, or go get drunk, or sleep in, or hang out with his buddies at the garage, you have a chance to think about it.  A chance to feel the love and concern and say, “Hey!  Maybe I would rather be a part of the kingdom instead of worry about my own self-satisfaction.”  It doesn’t matter if you’re the tax collector or the prostitute, the guy who cheats on his taxes or the girl who cheats on her boyfriend, the woman who gossips or the man who acts out his road rage, all of us have a chance to say, “Hey!  Maybe I’ll do it differently today.”

And the cool thing is that that is true if you’re the scribe or the Pharisee, too.  If you’re the one who says, “Yes, I will go sign up as a volunteer at the hospital” and the day gets away or “Yes, I will drop some cans in the basket for the Community Food Council in the church foyer” and somehow they never make it into the car and then the church or “Yes, I will join the Shawl Knitting Ministry” and don’t ever quite manage to make it to a meeting or “Yes, I will finish writing my sermon on Friday so that I can truly spend Saturday focusing on my child” and…well, you know.

And if you find yourself being the second son who says, “No,” you can always repent, or change your mind back again and take a different tack, doing what God calls you to do.  The doors are always open in the church of Jesus Christ.  It’s a welcoming place, full of grace, where we all mess up and we all have the chance to try again.

I want to close with lyrics from a song by Sister Hazel that I think are particularly pertinent to today.  Because it is all up to you.  They go like this:

Hey, Hey, Did you ever think There might be another way
To just feel better, Just feel better about today
If you've had enough Of all your tryin'
Just give up The state of mind you're in…

If you want to be somebody else,
If you're tired of fighting battles with yourself
If you want to be somebody else
Change your mind...

Hey hey, Have you ever danced in the rain
Or thanked the sun Just for shining- just for shining
Or the sea? Oh no- take it all in The world's a show
And yeah, you look much better,
Look much better when you glow

 Hey hey
what ya say
We both go and seize the day
'cause what's your hurry
what's your hurry anyway
If you want to be somebody else,
If you're tired of fighting battles with yourself
If you want to be somebody else
Change your mind...
            So what do you say?  Who is Christ to you and what does that mean for your life?  If it means that you are to both say, “Yes!” and do yes!, that’s terrific.  Let’s do it.  Let’s change our minds to be of the one mind in Christ Jesus.  The mind that cares for those in pain and shares with those in need, the mind that receives because it gives and loves no matter what.  For as Paul says, “It is God who is at work in you, enabling you both to will and to work for his good pleasure.”  May it ever be so.  Amen.