Friends of Jesus (Proper 21A)

  

Friends of Jesus

27 September 2026

Homily Preached at the Episcopal Church of the Holy Spirit, Sutherlin OR

Proper 21A

The Rev. Dr. Anthony Hutchinson

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

 

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

Fifteen years ago in Wuhan China (yes—that Wuhan, the place where Covid19 first showed up seven years ago!), I had an experience that made me think a lot about what it means to have faith.  At a semi-formal dinner welcoming me as a senior U.S. Embassy official, I noticed that one of my table companions, a top official of the Hubei provincial government, was wearing a beautiful carved wood Buddhist prayer chaplet (like this one) around his wrist.  Knowing that this man had to be a member of the Chinese Communist party, and that one must affirm absolute atheism in order to become a member of that party, I innocently asked him, “Oh, those are nice beads.  Are you a disciple of the Buddha (fotu)?”   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 fotu (Buddha’s disciple). I’m just a foyou (Buddha’s friend).” 

 

 

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 religious leader for his followers.  It was the action of a friend, out of love for his friends. 

 

In today’s Gospel reading Jesus gives a cautious non-reply to questions about his authority, just like that official’s non-reply about his Buddhism.  Jesus then tells a story 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. He s saying, don’t focus on whether I have authority’ rather focus on what doing what good sons and good friends do for those they love.    

 

Many people in the world today say they are Christians.  They say they study and follow his teachings, Jesus’ commands, his rules.  And they condemn those who are not as diligent in this, who are not good disciples.  This hateful condemnation of others is the original sin at the heart of perverted Christianity and Christian nationalism. 

 

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 sinners who recognize their fault and need God are far closer to God’s Reign than people who follow all the rules and thank God that they are 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 spends all his time with drunks, sex-workers, and traitor collaborators with the Romans,” they said. He replied, “it is the sick who need a doctor, not healthy people.” 

 

The Romans suspected that Jesus was stirring up trouble against their imperial occupation of his homeland, and so those religious authorities, when they just couldn’t deal any more with his contempt for their rule-keeping religion, arranged to have him turned over to them to be killed.   

 

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 in the story. 

 

People who might not be so righteous, but end up trying to follow the behavior Jesus modeled, not out of a desire to keep rules, 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 true religion, but boutique spirituality. 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 sex-workers 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 parable of the two sons is introduced by that 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 authentic friend, not his simply his slavish follower.  That’s because slavish followers tend to focus on instrumentalities and rules, and thus always seem to end up disappointing 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, and let’s forgive ourselves, since we have so much that our friend Jesus has already forgiven.

In the name of our Christ our friend, Amen.