7UP: Sloth

Text: Matthew 21:23-32
Theme: “7UP: Sloth” (4th in a series)
15th Sunday after Pentecost
September 25, 2011
First Presbyterian Church
Denton, Texas
Rev. Paul R. Dunklau

IN THE NAME OF JESUS

23 Jesus entered the temple courts, and, while he was teaching, the chief priests and the elders of the people came to him. “By what authority are you doing these things?” they asked. “And who gave you this authority?”
24 Jesus replied, “I will also ask you one question. If you answer me, I will tell you by what authority I am doing these things. 25 John’s baptism—where did it come from? Was it from heaven, or of human origin?”
They discussed it among themselves and said, “If we say, ‘From heaven,’ he will ask, ‘Then why didn’t you believe him?’ 26 But if we say, ‘Of human origin’—we are afraid of the people, for they all hold that John was a prophet.”
27 So they answered Jesus, “We don’t know.”
Then he said, “Neither will I tell you by what authority I am doing these things.
28 “What do you think? There was a man who had two sons. He went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work today in the vineyard.’
29 “‘I will not,’ he answered, but later he changed his mind and went.
30 “Then the father went to the other son and said the same thing. He answered, ‘I will, sir,’ but he did not go.
31 “Which of the two did what his father wanted?”
“The first,” they answered.
Jesus said to them, “Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God ahead of you. 32 For John came to you to show you the way of righteousness, and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes did. And even after you saw this, you did not repent and believe him.

Every now and then, upon arriving home, I take note that my boys are there and proceed to yell upstairs: “Wassup?” Then, inevitably, the reply drifts back down the stairs: “Hey, Paulie! Just chillin’.”

I’m so out of date with the lingo of the late teen and twenty-something crowd that even the phrase “just chillin’” could already be out of circulation. I need to start carrying an urban dictionary or some other useful tool to help me. I hope “chillin’ out” is still the go-to phrase because I like it. Let’s analyze it for a moment. It is prompted, most often, by “what’s up?” – which, of course, means, “What’s going on?” or “What are you doing?”, etc. The reply, “Just chillin’”, essentially means we’re not doing a whole lot. The word “chill” at least implies that something is warm or hot, and you can get warm or hot if you’re engaged in, say, some strenuous activity. After awhile, you need to cool down or, indeed, chill.

“Chilling out”, linguistically, may be a hip variation of “hanging out”. But “hanging out”, understood literally, doesn’t sound like much fun. What? Are you out there floating in the breeze or something? And what’s this business about “out”? I can understand “hanging in there” which suggests a sort of stick-to-it-ive-ness, but “hanging out” seems to mean that we’re giving up – if words mean anything. I have a hunch that the “out” part of either “hanging out” or “chillin’ out” means that we’re not engaged in anything at the moment; we’re “off-line”, so to speak.

Anyway, I like the two-word phrase “chillin’ out”. I’ll continue using it until someone whispers in my ear and says: “Honey, you sound like an old man when you say that!” I like “chillin’ out” so much better, for instance, than the phrase “killing time.” What a sad abuse of language that is! It’s like time is a human being, and we’re out there committing murder! Have you ever heard people use that phrase or a variation of it? You ask somebody what they’re doing, and they reply: “Ah, I’m just killin’ a little time.” I suspect it is often heard at airports when flights are delayed. “Well, we got a couple of hours to kill, honey. What do you want to do?” If “killing time” is the only parlance we used, then we’ve have to conclude that time is the greatest martyr that ever lived – or died, for that matter. Now, for you sensitive types out there, I don’t want you to feel bad about using this phrase. It’s in common parlance, and it probably will continue to be. But here is the point, perhaps, where we all need the reminder that words mean things – even words, good and solid words, that are out of circulation.

Take the word sloth, for example. Sloth is one of the sins that is up for consideration this morning in our series, 7Up: A Refreshing Look at the Seven Deadly Sins. Dictionary.com defines sloth as an “habitual disinclination to exertion”, or “indolence”, or “laziness.” Other related terms include “shiftlessness”, “idleness”, or “slackness.”

A reporter once walked up to a person on the street and asked: “What are the two greatest problems facing America today?” The person, with a certain cockiness, replied: “I don’t know and I don’t care.” The reporter thought to himself: “He named them both.” “I don’t know” is ignorance. “I don’t care” is apathy.

Ignorance hangs out with sloth. But apathy is buddy-buddy with sloth. Another scholar has described sloth as a “sense of ennui.” Ennui is a feeling of utter weariness or discontent resulting from a lack of interest or boredom. Even the writer of the Old Testament book of Ecclesiastes gets the idea: “All is vanity. What do people gain from all the toil at which they toil under the sun. A generation goes, and a generation comes … .” Pretty clearly, the author is taking a divine potshot at all the workaholics who have the mistaken notion that more work, or frenzied activity, is the antidote to sloth. The more you try to counteract sloth, the worse it can get!

Pinpointing our modern cynicism with laser-like accuracy, the writer of Ecclesiastes goes on: “So I hated life, because the work that is done under the sun was grievous to me. All of it is meaningless, a chasing after the wind. I hated all the things I had toiled for under the sun, because I must leave them to the one who comes after me. And who knows whether he will be a wise man or a fool? Yet he will have control over all the work into which I have poured my effort and skill under the sun. This too is meaningless. So my heart began to despair over all my toilsome labor under the sun.”

So sloth, Biblically understood, is something more than just run-of-the-mill laziness (although it certainly can begin with that). It’s a kind of spiritual torpor and despair – or even depression.

Now, just to change things up a bit, it’s time for a little “Name That Tune”. See if this song sounds familiar. (Play piano.) That’s right; it’s the theme from M*A*S*H, the popular TV series of yesteryear. Set in the context of the Korean War, it gave us characters such as Hawkeye Pierce, Colonel Blake, Radar O’Reilly, and Hot Lips Hoolihan. Everyone remembers the theme song, but far fewer recall the lyrics. A portion of them, written by Johnny Mandel, go like this:

Through early morning fog I see
Visions of the things to be
The pains that are withheld for me
I realize and now I can see
That suicide is painless
It brings on many changes
And I can take or leave them if I please.

M*A*S*H was a sit-com, but that song is anything but funny. That song, ladies and gentlemen, is nothing if not an anthem to existential despair. But sloth, from which such despair so often springs forth, does not seem to be deadly. Couch potatoes don’t die at the snap of a finger. But what sloth (or laziness or listlessness or apathy) gradually leads to -- spiritual and existential despair – can, indeed, be deadly. Here is where we best heed the dictum of C.S. Lewis who wrote: “The safest way to hell is a gradual one --the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts.”

By the grace of God, I hope the Holy Spirit will use this message today as a signpost for us all. And the best is yet to come.

There in the temple, long ago, stood Jesus Christ. He was in His teaching mode. Earlier, He was interrupted by yet another question brought forth by the religious establishment. Having dispensed with that, He went on to tell everyone within earshot a little story. He started it as follows:

“What do you think? There was a man who had two sons. He went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work today in the vineyard.’
29 “‘I will not,’ he answered, but later he changed his mind and went.
30 “Then the father went to the other son and said the same thing. He answered, ‘I will, sir,’ but he did not go.
31 “Which of the two did what his father wanted?”
“The first,” they answered.

Now, I don’t know what the unemployment rate was when Jesus told this story, but the man who had two sons issued a request and provided a job opportunity. Son number one said no. “I’m not going to do what you want, dear Father. And I’m not going to work.” It sounds like he may have the symptoms of sloth, doesn’t it? But, as the story goes, he ends up going to work.

The second son is given the same request and opportunity. Son number two appears to be rip, roarin’, and ready to go. “Here I am. I’m the guy. I’ll get the job done for you – not like that slothful, lazy, listless, indolent brother of mine.”

But, in the end, son number two ultimately nixes the request and shuns the opportunity. “Which of the two did what his father wanted?” asks Jesus. “The first,” they all said of one accord.

Stated simply, the first son changed His mind. That’s what the Gospel of God’s love in Jesus Christ does for us, dear friends. By the power of the Holy Spirit, it enables us to change our minds.

Instead of the way of sloth – which leads to spiritual despair and even worse, there is the alternative. It’s what Jesus, in today’s Gospel reading, calls the “way of righteousness.”

Your presence here this morning indicates that you know a little something about this way, this path. We are on that path today. And we’re not on it because we’ve worked too hard or worked too little. We’re not on that path because we’ve got our theological I’s dotted and T’s crossed. We’re on that path because God’s is gracious; God gives grace; God gives you and me another chance. God doesn’t gradually make you righteous. In Christ crucified and risen from the dead, He declares you righteous.

When we start to understand this, when we realize that we’re a part of this, sloth is drained dry of its resources. Spiritual despair gives way to that new and living hope. Life, not in the sweet bye and by but right here and right now, takes on its liveliness, its adventure. We are blessed to realize that we are a part of something greater than ourselves, something that will last. We become what we are: a people not so much buffeted by sloth but blessed with glorious destiny. Thanks be to God!

Amen.