He (Jesus) didn't come to add another religious establishment (this may come as a surprise to some)!

Text:  Matthew 21:23-32

Theme:  “What is the ‘Way of Righteousness’?”

16^th Sunday after Pentecost

September 28, 2014

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.

Inevitably, it happens.  I’m asked what I do for a living.  As a general rule, the question is posed at various and sundry social gatherings that Diana and I attend.  It’s a simple enough inquiry; it’s standard fare when you’re getting to know someone.  But for me, there’s a risk with this question.  My experience tells me that the answer I finally come around to sharing can KILL the conversation. 

“What do you do for a living?”  “Well,” I reply, “I work for the Presbyterian Church.”  Sometimes, the immediate response is:  “What’s a Presbyterian?”  And the question itself tells me quite a bit about the questioner.  But mostly, when I’m asked what I do and reply, there’s a nod of the head that follows which is coupled with a look of mild shock.  “Oh, that’s nice,” is a classic reply.  Then comes the follow-up:  “What exactly do you do for the church?” 

“I’m a minister of Word and Sacrament,” I reply.  “You mean, you’re like a pastor, uh, or, uh, like clergy?”  I say, “Yep.”  At that point, they get tongue-tied.  It’s awkward.  And if anything can kill a conversation, it’s awkwardness – except, of course, if they’ve had a few adult beverages.

Again, in my experience, folks with a couple of drinks under their belt will open up.  They will give me their “take” on religious matters, usually tell me which church they attend, and sometimes they’ll launch into their own “testimony”.  Folks down here in the Bible belt are interesting creatures when it comes to matters of faith.  They’ll talk about when they “came to faith” or “made a decision.” When they find out what I do, it seems to open them up. They feel safe and more willing to talk about their faith journey (or however you would wish to phrase it.)  They share things with me that they likely wouldn’t with folks who work at the bank, post office, etc.  

Then, in the give and take of such an exchange, it’s my turn.  I tell them that I was baptized when I was a little less than two months old.  I’ll mention my confirmation when I was fifteen, and so on.  It’s all very anti-climactic, actually.  There’s no dramatic conversion story; no voices that came in the night.  I’ve been a believer all my life.  That’s not to say I haven’t wrestled with my faith and struggled with it.  Sometimes, my thinking about God has been entirely in the background.  At other times, it was at the forefront.  But there never was a time without some belief.  It has never been entirely missing or gone.  The essential claims of Christianity – that the world and its people have some incredibly deep-seated problems and that God, in the person of Jesus Christ, has done something gracious about those problems – are claims that resonate with me. 

Recently, I was asked (by a person who is close to me), “What would you say to an atheist?”  In that moment, I was the one who was tongue-tied.  “I’ll have to get back to you on that,” I said.  Having some time to mull over the question, I’d have to say that I don’t know what it’s like.  I haven’t personally experienced atheism (which is belief in no god or gods).  I’ve probably been closer to an agnostic point of view (which sort of straddles the fence).  I have to think, though, that it has to be tough.  To have no belief in God; to have no narrative that helps you make sense of yesterday, today, and tomorrow; to not have the hope that such belief brings, that just has to be tough.  I like the phrase:  “I’d rather believe in God and discover that God doesn’t exist than not believe in God and discover that God does exist.”

In exchanges like this and others, I think it valuable to keep things clear – and that usually means that you keep things simple.  In today’s Gospel, Jesus spoke of the “way of righteousness”. 

That three word phrase – “way of righteousness” – is what I believe everyone is truly looking for.  On this score, it makes no difference if you are a believer (Presbyterian, Baptist, Quaker, Methodist, etc.), an atheist, or an agnostic.  At the heart of the word “righteousness” is the word “right”.  Thus, everyone is looking for the “right way” for them.  Stated differently, everyone is searching for that compelling narrative – some call it a “worldview” – that helps them make sense of things.  What is it that makes them get up, suit up, and show up for another day?  Is it just biology?  If it were, then our existence would be characterized by consuming air, water, and food on some sort of evolutionary continuum.  In this view, life is merely a set of instincts that are specialized to a greater or lesser degree.

My response, quite simply, is: what’s the point of this?  If you continue to push and probe these questions, you will end up with answers that do not satisfy.  Then you shake your head, tell yourself that you’re not going to think about this stuff anymore, and you’re back to square one.

So again, I assert that everyone is looking for a way of righteousness that satisfies.  They may not use those words to describe it, but they are. 

In the time of Jesus, the ones who thought they had the “way of righteousness” down hook, line, and sinker were the members of the Jewish religious establishment. 

The leaders of the that establishment – the chief priest and the elders – were many times befuddled and put off by this renegade rabbi named Jesus.  They were shocked that people gave Him so much attention.  They wondered what it was that gave Him the moxie to say what He said and draw such a crowd.  The specific question went like this:  “By what authority are you doing these things?  Who gave you this authority?”

Jesus answered with a question of his own – which, to this day, is a classic rhetorical ploy.  “What John’s baptism from heaven, or was it just a human thing?”  The religious establishment was stuck between a rock and hard place with the answer to that one.  “We don’t know,” they reply.  So Jesus didn’t tell them by “what authority” He did and said the things He did and said. 

He did, however, share a story.  A man had two sons.  To the first, he said:  “Go and work in my vineyard.”  The first son replied:  “I will not go.”  But later he did.  To the second son, the father said:  “Go and work in my vineyard.”  The second son replied:  “I will.”  But, in the end, he didn’t go. 

Jesus asked the question we knew was coming:  “Which of the two did what the father wanted?”  The religious establishment couldn’t avoid answering this one with an ignorant, “We don’t know.”  They said:  “The first.”

At that moment, Jesus had the religious establishment in the proverbial palm of his hand.  Jesus said:  “John came in the way of righteousness, and you did not believe him.”  But the prostitutes and the tax collectors did. 

You see, my friends?  Everyone is looking for the way of righteousness – including prostitutes, tax collectors, and the last people in the world that we’d expect -- and not just the religious establishment. 

Ironically, it was the religious establishment that felt compelled to do away with Jesus – and they did.  But His resurrection – fully attested in the Scriptures – validated that His was the way of righteousness.  That, in short, is the Gospel.

Our world today has a variety of religious establishments to choose from – and many of them appeal to the existential despair that has gripped us.  Jesus came not to add another establishment to the list.  He came seeking followers of the way of righteousness.  His message – and that of His cousin John’s – was:  “Change your mind about God for the Kingdom of God is here!”  That resonated with people.  And the good news is that it still will!  Selling ourselves as a religious institution won’t do.  Walking the way of righteousness will.  People are watching.

Amen.