Singing Out of Tune

I love this parody of American Idol!

*Then read Matthew 21:23-32.

Once upon a time, not so very long ago, there were two sisters named Daisy and Maisy; and they just happened to be the neighborhood baby sitters. One evening, a new couple on the block hired the younger sister, Daisy, to baby-sit for their three children. When they returned home, the house was a disaster area. Toys were all over the place, dishes piled up in the kitchen and Daisy was asleep on the couch. The parents didn’t even bother to ask whether or not their children had gotten washed before bed and had brushed their teeth. They could just – tell.

The next morning, however, all three children couldn’t wait to get downstairs and tell their parents what a great time they had had with Daisy. She had played games with them, run races with them, told stories to them and even said prayers with them before they went to bed. But the parents had made up their minds. They would never again use a sitter who left their house in such a mess.

So, the next time they went out, they hired older sister, Maisy, to look after their kids. And when they returned home this time, the house was spotless. The living room was tidy, everything was put away in the kitchen, the children were all in bed sleeping, and there was Maisy sitting at the dining-room table - studying. She reported that the children had been absolute “angels” and that there had been “no” problems. Needless to say, the parents were very pleased with what they found.

However, the next morning, all three of their children wore gloomy expressions on their faces and complained about Maisy who, they said, had yelled at them, used cuss words, made them go to bed early, and then went outside to smoke and talk with her friends all night. “Still,” said the parents to each other, “the house did look great when we got home.”

Now, you know what is bothering Jesus in this week’s gospel, don’t you? He is in Jerusalem at this point. A crowd of people have held an impromptu parade, heralding him as messiah and king. He has marched into the temple and held a one-man protest about the “low-down” business that was going on there. And now, he is continuing to spend time with the very same kind of people who have hung around him throughout his entire ministry – needy, disreputable, poor, notorious people – the kind of people who, if they started to hang out where most Christians go to church - well, let’s face it, they would give those churches a bad name.

So, it’s not that surprising that when Jesus was in the temple preaching, the boys down at temple headquarters pay him a visit, and say, “Show us your credentials. Who authorized you to teach here?”

They’re mad as heck at Jesus, in other words, and are determined to put a stop to what he is doing once and for all. Jesus is on their turf now and they’re going to read the riot act to him. They want to see his credentials for saying and doing the things he has said and done, things that they consider absolutely inappropriate for any self-respecting rabbi. They want Jesus to put up or shut up. Why, they had had the same problem with that John the Baptist fellow.

Now, Jesus, of course, is up for the challenge. In fact, it seems pretty obvious from the gospels that he never backed down from a point of controversy. So, when challenged by these experts in theology and religious practice, he answers them in typical rabbinical style. He answers their question with a question. “First let me ask you a question. You answer my question and I'll answer yours. About the baptism of John - who authorized it: heaven or humans?"

His question, in other words, was like a sharp scalpel, demanding that his opponents reveal their position on John’s ministry. Of course, to do so would have put them in a no win situation because if they said that John’s ministry had been from God, then they would have had to explain why they didn’t respect what John came to do. If they said John was simply speaking on his own authority, the crowds, who had already proclaimed John as a prophet, would have been furious with them. So they argued and argued among themselves – and conceded that they didn’t know. They are going to keep their cards to themselves; and Jesus, smiling back, says, “I think I will, too.” A very neat, razor-sharp wisecrack to these learned gentlemen, indicating once again that Jesus was nobody’s fool.

But Jesus is not finished with his opponents now that he has them where he wants them. He wants to keep them on the spot. So he tells them a deceptively simple story. A man has two sons. He asks one to go and work for him. That one, in effect, says, “Dad, drop dead.” But, later, he has a change of heart, puts on his boots and gets to work. The man asks his other son to do the same thing. The second son says, “I’ll get right on it!” Hours later, this docile, passive-aggressive fruit of his loins is still lying on the couch watching MTV. “Now, think hard” Jesus says to them, “Which of the two did the will of his father?”

The point that Jesus is driving home to them is that these religious, righteous men were nothing more than hypocrites. Like the second son, they appeared to affirm what was right, but didn’t bother doing it in practice. Jesus would rather they be like the first son, who didn’t care about what was right at first, like going to church and acting religious, but in the end did the right thing.

Many people who don’t go to church are like the first son. They are so turned off by the hypocrisy of religious people that they won’t go to church or act respectable. Like those who were regarded as sinners by religious people in Jesus’ day, they don’t conform to conventional religious practice.

And then, just in case, just in case these very clever men might have been in any doubt about what he meant, Jesus nails his point to their foreheads. “The truth is; tax collectors and prostitutes will see God’s kingdom ahead of you. John the Baptist came to you showing you the right road. You turned up your noses at him, but the crooks and whores believed him. Even when you saw their changed lives, you didn't care enough to change and believe him”

Ouch! That really stings, doesn’t it? And it makes me wonder, just what is the gospel, anyway? I mean if you really think about it, Jesus is slamming not just the religious system of his day, but the religious system of our day also—the Christian church. Just what is the gospel for us, today? Have we gotten it all wrong after all? Have we become exactly what Jesus preached against?

Since beginning my pastorate at Genntown UCC, Journey Church, and now Oak Creek my prayer has always been, “God, I do not want to be a church that is only interested in taking care of itself. I don’t want to believe in the gospel of Christ, but never do anything about it.” And the truth of the gospel of Jesus as presented in our gospel text today is loud and clear. The question Jesus raised in this parable was this: Who are you like—the religious hypocrite or the irreligious righteous? So many religious folk are like the person that sings out of tune. They create both discomfort and humor. And whether these people like it or not, many unchurched and dechurched people find these religious people to be a source of laughter and the kind of unpleasant music they can’t stand to listen to. They can see right through them. Hypocrites make the gospel ridiculous. The good news is no longer good news, but quite frankly is unbelievable.

It is so easy to pay lip service to the gospel of Jesus. It’s so easy to sit in church and say, “Amen, pastor. Preach it!” But never to do anything about it. Easy to declare loyalty to Christ, maybe even to proclaim that you are a Christian, but never to live it with the person next door. And everyone of us can find ourselves doing the exact same thing. Nobody has the corner on hypocrisy.

We can all be guilty of talking about love, understanding deep thoughts about love, waxing eloquent, passionate statements about love – but doing nothing about it. That is what Jesus wants us to hear. If you want the world, this church or even your own life to look different, then stop complaining about it, trying doing something about it. Do you believe the church’s responsibility is to tell our neighborhoods about the good news of Jesus? Or is it to continue our own ideas of religious life? Are we more worried about comfortable seating, and taking care of each other? Or opening our doors to those who have been pushed out by others? If we hold up a spiritual mirror to ourselves, what will we see? People who are singing out of tune? Or people making beautiful melodies of the gospel?

The fact is we are the gospel. And Jesus says, that if your version of the gospel means demanding that people believe the way you believe, or being stingy with your money, or complaining about what’s not right with your church, then you probably won’t like God’s kingdom. And if we really believe, I mean really believe the gospel—then it really isn’t about us, is it? It’s about those outside the church, those who act irreligious. The same ones that Jesus came to liberate and be with. There are lots of congregations out there doing the church the same old way, year after year, only taking care of each other and ignoring their neighbors. And I don’t think there really is a need for one more.

There’s an old saying that I’ve tried to base my pastoral ministry on. Comfort the afflicted, and afflict the comfortable. If you’re not very comfortable with the way church is and has always been, then good. You are right on track. If you want our church to grow, and be inviting to everyone—no matter who they are, then your behavior will reflect it. To you I say, “Join me.” The gospel is already within you. It’s the good news. And it’s never too late to get saved by it. Amen.(Excerpts from Barry J. Robinson’s sermon “Just Do It” for September 25, 2005 – www.fernstone.org)