“Circling the Insiders”

A sermon by The Rev. Keenan Kelsey
Noe Valley Ministry, Presbyterian Church (USA)
September 25, 2005

Text: Matthew 21:23-32

²³ When he entered the temple, the chief priests and the elders of the people came to him as he was teaching, and said, ‘By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?’ ²⁴ Jesus said to them, ‘I will also ask you one question; if you tell me the answer, then I will also tell you by what authority I do these things. ²⁵ Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?’ And they argued with one another, ‘If we say, “From heaven,” he will say to us, “Why then did you not believe him?” ²⁶ But if we say, “Of human origin,” we are afraid of the crowd; for all regard John as a prophet.’ ²⁷ So they answered Jesus, ‘We do not know.’ And he said to them, ‘Neither will I tell you by what authority I am doing these things. ²⁸ ‘What do you think? A man had two sons; he went to the first and said, “Son, go and work in the vineyard today.” ²⁹ He answered, “I will not”; but later he changed his mind and went. ³⁰ The father went to the second and said the same; and he answered, “I go, sir”; but he did not go. ³¹ Which of the two did the will of his father?’ They said, ‘The first.’ Jesus said to them, ‘Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you. ³² 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.

THERE IS NO MESSING AROUND TODAY, no soft, fuzzy, comforting message. Today’s Gospel lesson takes us to the heart of the matter, to the circle of the insiders, to a confrontation with those who consider themselves to be grounded in entitlement and righteousness and authority. Any similarities to persons or situations living or dead is not necessarily coincidental!

The Pharisees are alarmed. Jesus showed up in their temple two days ago and tore the place up. Now he is back, resuming his teaching. They hated that he taught with conviction and knowledge – him, not even an ordained rabbi. They envied his miracles and healing. But mostly they feared Jesus. They feared his popularity, the way he engrossed his listeners, his ardent conviction as he emphasized his lessons with such ardent faith: “verily, verily, I say unto you…” They feared his message: he was he leading people away from the religious traditions that defined the Jews, that rabbinical authority. They feared the disturbance he created. Life for the temple elite was a matter of precarious balance. The streets were full of Roman guards, clustered for the influx of Passover pilgrims. It wouldn’t take much to destabilize Israel’s ambiguous relationship with the Empire. The Pharisees wanted to expose Jesus as a fraud, to get rid of him.

“By what authority are you doing these things?” they demand. “Who gave you this authority?” This was supposed to be a trick question for Jesus – no matter how he answered it would be wrong! But Jesus begins, once again, to circle the insiders. In good rabbinic style, Jesus answers with his own similar question: Is the baptism of John from God, or from man?

The leaders now squirm. Any legitimate theological responses fall away; panicked minds fall prey to fear. Do you begin to see a pattern here? The religious leaders are working a closed system. They presume to be the insiders; they alone, get to evaluate religious authority. Nothing new can break in. Any such circle of insiders needs to preserve its exclusivity, its expertise. So instead of honoring their role upholding the integrity of scripture and tradition, they feel the crowd of people looking over their shoulders, and sense their Roman handlers not far off in the wings. Matthew tells us, plainly, that these men of “authority” covered their political backsides, sputtered and, in the end, refused to answer Jesus. The best they can come up with is- “Ah… We don’t know!”

Jesus then launches into the parable of the two sons. “ Which one,” he demanded, “did the will of his father? The one who rudely said No, then reconsidered and went to the vineyard, or the one who obediently agreed, but then did not follow through?” Hardly waiting for the answer, Jesus delivers the punch line: “Prostitutes and tax collectors are entering the kingdom of heaven ahead of you! John the Baptist came to show the way of righteousness. They believed, but you did not. And even after you saw this, you did not repent and believe.”

This in-your-face provocation must have stung the Pharisees – just as it should sting us today. It should sting us today because like the Pharisees, we are all too readily the second brother. He is ancestor to us all, patriarch of the people of good intentions, the people who hear the question, and readily reply “Yes!” Who among us has not quickly agreed to do something, knowing that we are unlikely to follow through? Whether it is service on a committee or an offer to pray for someone or an agreement to do a project for the pastor or for church school; whether it is promising to "call right back" or to put a check in the mail, planning to attend a rally or fulfill a pledge or call your congress person or visit a sick friend – whatever it is, we’ve all done it. It is easy to say Yes to all of the right things. But follow through is easily rationalized. We are too busy, our health is too fragile, our families need us, traffic is too heavy at 5 :00, we re too tired, we must work late, we can’t afford it…we are too afraid. What happens when we don't show up, when we let the other people do the work or carry the message? What happens inside us when we promise, even aspire, to do a helpful or important action, and then cannot or do not deliver?

This has been a weekend of cries for peace, for justice, for withdrawal from Iraq, for funding of peoples real needs rather than the war machine, for compassion and concrete rescue and response in the Gulf States after the hurricane devastation. We cry Yes to these needs so easily. Of course we want peace. Of Course we want justice and righteousness and of course we want to feed the hungry and clothe the naked. We want all that, just as we want to always keep our words and act in integrity and show up for right action. But so often we cannot or will not deliver.

Regrets are a terrible thing. During the reminiscences at my son’s recent wedding, his godmother remembered an event 14 years ago. She used to call Sean every birthday. When he was nine, I was trying to get Sean to go out to his birthday dinner and he wouldn’t go. “Jane is going to call,” he stated, “I have to wait.” That was the year she forgot!

Fear is an even more terrible thing. I read of the experiences of EMT's when Katrina hit, and they tell of the outright hostility they experienced at the hands of the authorities. One team was forced to leave their hotel then run from the SuperDome to the Convention Center, only to find no room in either place, and finally to be told that there would be buses going out of town, picking up folk on the bridge to the "West Bank." Arriving at the bridge, guns were fired over their heads to stop there. "There'll be no New Orleans on the West Bank!" said the authorities. "Get off the bridge." I know that a lot of people look at all this and see incompetence, or callousness, but I see fear.

Fear caused us to put more money into Homeland Security than into FEMA.

Fear caused us to spend billions in Iraq and Afghanistan rather than on levees (not to mention food, education, health care...). Fear of the truth, fear of retribution caused authorities to overlook or hide the real plight of the urban poor in the city. Fear of the "other" led those men on the bridge to hem in the desperate people trying to flee the city.

We all live in fear. There is a part of each of us that is the “insider,” and we protect that belief with fear: Fear of loss, fear of success, fear of accidents, fear of rage, anger or shame; fear of bombs, small enough to hide in a backpack, big enough to hide in an underground silo; fear of war, fear of being broke, fear of homelessness, fear of losing our job, fear of the economy going south, fear of being caught up in indiscriminate violence, fear of failing or diminishing resources. Sometimes what we are most afraid of, more than anything else, is fear of taking responsibility.

In the aftermath of Katrina, fingers immediately began pointing and the White House sought out scapegoats. And to be fair, we progressives point the finger right back at President Bush, at his skewed priorities and diluted, then confused response directives. Rather than solving the problems created, this finger pointing has simply created a new class of problems, ones which, as usual, end up victimizing the defenseless. Whether it is an unjust war in Iraq, a disaster the likes of Katrina and Rita, the labor struggles of San Francisco hospital and hotel workers, or the fact that no one showed up with communion bread one Sunday – claiming responsibility means fixing the problem. Pointing fingers means avoiding the problem.

I think I feel a little like Jesus must have felt in the Gospel lesson: he wasn’t feeling particularly polite, or patient. The world is violent, and I stand with you as nonviolent. The world is filled with hypocrites, and I struggle to live in integrity. The world lives with fear, blames the victim, shoots the offender and protects its backside. Jesus calls me to courage and kindness, to generosity and compassion. Unfortunately, Christianity today has far more in common with Roman law than it does with gospel. If I had an appropriate church door, I might nail 95 theses to it for disputation. I might point out that just as we want to take back our government from leaders beholden to corporate interests, we Christians are called to take back 'the church' from those who have aligned their ideologies with principles of exclusion, with the survival of the strong, with power and money. I would certainly dispute a lot of what church leaders declare to be teaching from Jesus. I would argue that we are obliged to become better students of Scripture and critics of culture. I would say that the church is a group of people arguing about how best to save a drowning person – while the person struggles in the water. Alas, I have no such church door. And when I am a little more rested and rational, I might be grateful for that.

But for today, I am convinced that Jesus continually calls us to a level of integrity in our actions that requires us to do more than give lip service. He asks us to find the courage to overturn some moneychanger tables, and to speak truth against power. He asks us to follow through, to be a Moses, in the face of an angry desperate mob, was willing to trust God by striking a stick on a rock. He doesn’t ask us to be right all the time. He asks us to be open, to allow for growth and transformation, to consult the Spirit. He asks us to repent after our initial fears, and change our No to Yes, or to be willing to turn back and live into the promise of our initial Yes -- so that we can do the work of the gospel, whether it is a bulletin board or a confrontation with a congress representative.

By whose authority do you live your life? Are you caught in being an “insider” busy protecting your status and your correctness? Are you listening to God’s Holy Spirit? Are you able to replace your very and understandable fears with conviction and courage, as you respond to needs of your family or responsibilities in your church or cries of people throughout the world? Or do you, like the ones Jesus spoke to, retreat to the safer ground of “not knowing” how to answer or respond, of finding scapegoats and excuses, of hiding behind fear, of being unwilling to change our minds, no matter what the evidence or the call…Only you can answer such questions. May God be with you in the process.