Friends vs. Followers (Proper 21A)

 

Friends vs. Followers

25 September 2011

Proper 21A

Beijing China

Exodus 17:1-7; Psalm 78:1-4, 12-16; Philippians 2:1-13; Matthew 21:23-32

When Jesus 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?" 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. 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?' But if we say, `Of human origin,' we are afraid of the crowd; for all regard John as a prophet." 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.


"What do you think? A man had two sons; he went to the first and said, `Son, go and work in the vineyard today.' He answered, `I will not'; but later he changed his mind and went. The father went to the second and said the same; and he answered, `I go, sir'; but he did not go. 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. 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." (Matt 21:23-32)

God, take away our hearts of stone and give us hearts of flesh. Amen.
 

Last week when I was in Wuhan, Hubei province, I had an interesting experience.  At dinner, I noticed that one of my table companions, a senior official of the Hubei provincial government, was wearing a beautiful carved wood Buddhist prayer chaplet around his wrist.  Knowing that this man must be a member of the Chinese communist party, and that one must affirm absolute atheism in order to become a member of the party, I innocently asked him, “Oh, those are nice beads.  Are you a Buddhist?”   His body  stiffened and I could see that he was quickly working through in his mind the implications of such a question from me.  He relaxed, and then said, smiling, “I’m not sure I count as a Buddhist (fotu) per se. Say rather I am a friend of the Buddha (foyou).” 

His reply, as clever as it was, got me thinking.  We like to say we are Christians, or disciples or students of Christ.  But are we Christ’s friends?  

Jesus, just before his death, told his disciples that they were his friends, not his servants (John 20).  He was giving his life for them, and he wanted them to know that this was not the action of a teacher for his students, or a founder of a religion for his followers.  It was the action of a friend, out of love for his friends. 

Today’s Gospel reading is a parable about two sons, one who says he will obey his father and then doesn’t and one who says he won’t, and then does.  Jesus clearly condemns the first and praises the second. 

Many people in the world today say they are Christians.  They say they study and follow his teachings, his commands, his rules.  And they condemn those who are not as diligent in this, who are not good disciples. 

But Jesus said many times that we must not judge others because we know that we have been forgiven great errors and failings. 

Jesus said many times that a sinner who recognizes his or her fault and needs God is far closer to God’s Reign than the person who follows all the rules and is thankful because he is better than others. 

Jesus told many jokes which had as their butt the pious and the self-important. 

It was precisely this contempt of Jesus for the righteous religion of the rule keeper that got him in such hot water with the local religious authorities.  “He hangs out with drunks, whores, and traitors.”  They said.  He said, “it is the sick who need a doctor, not well people.” 

The religious authorities arranged to have Jesus killed by the Imperial Power then in charge (Rome) when they just couldn’t deal with him any more. 

People who say they are Christian and who do not actually internalize and practice what Jesus did, and how he saw the world, are like the first son. 

People who might not be so righteous, but end up trying to follow the behavior Jesus modeled, not out of a desire to keep the rule, but out of a sense of obligation of friendship and love, are like the second son. 

In the traditional Roman Catechism, faith is described as “an act of the will assenting to that which is revealed by God, because of the authority of the revealing God.”   Faith is accepting God’s words precisely because it is from God that they come.   

The point is well taken—accepting what God tells us simply because it pleases us, or because we already agree, this is not faith.  It is a simulacrum of faith.  It is not religion, but boutique religion.  It is not seeking God’s will.  It actually is simply seeking our own desires and tarting them up as if they were God’s. It will not lead us beyond ourselves, or ultimately anywhere good. 

Those who take this definition of faith--assent because of authority--literally and all by itself generally end up painting a gloomy picture indeed of faith.  It becomes an act of submission in what appears to be an abusive relationship: "submit to me because I am God and you are not, or burn in hell."  Such an act of “faith” robs us of any autonomy, of any free will, of any human dignity, and necessarily makes us part of an army of robot victim souls. 

Is accepting God’s word on the authority of the revealing God bound to make us such victim automatons?   No. 

For, you see, there are two kinds of authority that one can base acceptance on:  authority because of position, rank, and recognized reliability, or authority that comes from who one is, and what one’s relationship to us is.  The first is the authority of a corporal commanding a military unit that he has just been assigned to.  The soldiers obey him because of the position he holds, not because of who he is.  But there is another kind of authority, the authority of the physically brave private who charges the enemy lines, and whom everyone else follows because they are inspired by the example.  They follow him because of who he is, not because of what position he holds.

Our faith, our trust in God must be based on the latter kind of authority. 

It is why Jesus calls us to be his friends, not his slaves. 

It is why Jesus describes God's reign as a treasure buried in a field that we joyfully sacrifice all else to possess.

Jesus in today's parable is suggesting here that ultimately, those who proclaim they are God’s followers will fail in following God’s will, while those who are God’s friends will, despite all their failings (or perhaps because of them), succeed. 

The principle here is found throughout scripture:  the first shall be last and the last first.  The tax collector praying for forgiveness from God is closer to God that Pharisee with a cold proud heart who prays to thank God he is not like "that sinner over there."  In today’s Hebrew Scripture lesson, it is only in the desert dryness that God can make the rock split and bring forth water. In the epistle, the “mind of Christ” that Paul wants us to emulate is described as an emptying of self-seeking and full trust in (friendship with) God.  In the Gospel, Jesus says to his opponents,  “Traitors and whores will go into the Kingdom before you,” precisely because his opponents want to base their faith on the authority of position and rules rather than the trust of friendship. Note that the whole passage begins with a dispute over "authority." 

 So just as that man in Wuhan was a “friend,” not a “disciple” of Buddha, I think that Jesus in this parable and others is calling us to be his friend, not his simply his follower.  Because declared followers tend to focus on instrumentalities and rules, and thus tend to disappoint their masters.  But friends, despite problems and failings, tend to come through in the end and make their masters—no, make that their friends--happy with them. 

So let’s pay attention to our friend, Jesus.  Let's pay attention to his tastes, what he likes, and what he doesn’t like.  Let’s pay attention to the kind of company he keeps and do likewise.  Let’s let him be our friend, and take us from where we are to where we ought to be, regardless of our or other people’s opinions of where that may be.

And let’s stop condemning others when we have so much about ourselves that could be condemned.  Let's forgive others since we have so much ourselves that God has forgiven.

In the name of Christ, Amen.