Pentecost 18 – 2017
Matthew 21:33-46
Marian Free
In the name of God in whom and with whom we have our being. Amen.
The annual Synod of the Diocese was held two weekends ago. There were not many controversial things on the agenda and only one piece of legislation to pass. One thing that absorbed a great deal of time was a presentation that is now a regular part of the Synod proceedings – the Diocesan statistics. Each year I (and every other priest) in the Diocese are obliged to provide information regarding how many people came to church in that year, how many were buried, married or baptised and so on. As you may guess from looking around, those numbers can be quite sobering. Only a few parishes in the Diocese are growing, many are remaining stable and a good few are declining in numbers.
The publication of these figures leads to a great deal of navel gazing and worrying about how we can halt the decline and build the church. I am a firm believer in being accountable and I think that it is important that we know how we are travelling, but I do worry that our concern is as much about self- preservation as it is about the future of the gospel, that worrying about our numbers makes us inward rather than outward focussed. Worse, I wonder whether we are so busy worrying about what is happening to the church and asking ourselves what we can do to maintain it, that we risk being unaware of that God might be doing something new, exciting and different. Alternatively, we are so inwardly focussed that anything new and exciting and different is seen not as a gift from God, but as something against we must protect our traditions and our structures.
Self-preservation certainly seems to be a concern of the Chief Priests, the elders, the scribes and the Pharisees of Jesus’ day. Jesus was seen as a threat and not a gift. He was unconventional and popular and nothing could convince them that he was God’s plan for the future of the church. Instead of welcoming Jesus as a gift from God, they closed ranks, trying to protect their position, their status and their authority – all of which required the church and its traditions to remain unchanged. Jesus represented a to the stability of the system that they were so carefully preserving.
Today’s gospel is set in the Temple. It is a small section of an ongoing dispute between Jesus and the chief priests and elders. They are worried that Jesus’ popularity and his refusal to maintain their traditions and are attempting to discredit and diminish him. Jesus turns the tables by telling the parable of the wicked tenants in order to expose their agenda. The parable likens the chief priests and elders to tenants who want to hold on to what they have at any cost. The leaders have forgotten that it was the landlord (God) who planted the vineyard, built the fence, installed the wine press and built a watchtower. The tenants, like the chief priests and elders have become so absorbed in themselves and their own roles, that they have lost sight of the fact that they are working in God’s vineyard. In the slaves and in the son, they see a threat to their comfortable existence, a threat that must be destroyed even though it has a legitimate claim on their attention.
In Jesus’ day the chief priests, scribes, Pharisees and elders have come to believe that responsibility for the vineyard (church) and for its future resides with them – that God has, in effect, abrogated all responsibility to them. They are so sure that they know what God wants that they cannot allow anyone (even Jesus) to unsettle the boat.
In 1182 in a small town in the north of Italy, Francis di Bernadone was born into the family of a wealthy merchant. Francis, like many rich young men of his day was something of a playboy and, influenced by the ideals of medieval chivalry, he longed to make a name for himself on the battlefield. His first foray into battle led to his imprisonment and his second was thwarted by an encounter with Christ that led him to spend time in prayer and to provide for the poor. Francis’ generosity and piety caused his Father such concern that he had him called before the Bishop’s court. Francis’ response was to strip naked. He was renouncing wealth, status and power and placing all his confidence in God.
Sometime later when Francis was praying in the ruins of a church, he heard the voice of Christ saying: “Build my church”. He understood that he was to spread the gospel to the world not to shore up the institution of the church. He began to preach anywhere and everywhere and, so compelling was his message, that within weeks he was joined by three other young men who within a short time became twelve. Francis did not need to accumulate goods, power or respect, he understood that he was doing God’s work and that his role was to tend the vines that God had planted, and to acknowledge that the growth belonged to God.
He and his companions wandered the countryside preaching the gospel to all who would listen. Because Francis had given up everything, he, unlike the leaders of the first century church had nothing to lose. Because he recognised the absolute sovereignty of God in his life, he was not threatened or intimidated by those who came to share his work in the vineyard, he did not need to take credit for his work, and he certainly had no need to refuse entry to others whom God sent. Francis’ complete and utter dependence on God freed him to serve God selflessly expecting no reward except the privilege of serving God. In direct contrast to the wicked tenants who represented the leaders of Jesus’ day, Francis recognised that everything came from God and that he owed everything to God.
As we watch in despair as our numbers decline, as we wonder what the future of the church will be, we do well to remember today’s parable – the church is not ours but God’s and that God can see a future for the gospel even if we cannot. In the 21st century, we may have to entertain the idea that once again we are being asked to give back to God what is God’s and that are being asked to recognise God in unexpected voices and unexpected people. The question we must ask ourselves is this: are we open to the possibility that God might be ready to do something different, or are we determined to hold on to what we have at any cost?


