No limits

Sermon on Matthew 21:33-46

The landowner in today’s Gospel kept trying. He sent his slaves to get what was his from the tenants of his vineyard. Just to learn that 2 out of 3 slaves were killed. So, he sent more slaves, and the same thing happened all over again. 2/3 were killed, the others probably ran for their lives. Now, the landowner didn’t give up on his property. Instead, he sent his son. Thinking that his tenants would respect the heir because it was the heir. Not thinking of his son of what he actually was. One single guy, totally outnumbered by the tenants.

The landowner sent his son. To get what was his. The wine and the grapes.

Be not mistaken. It wasn’t about the tenants, the people. It was about the profit, the produce. When the son arrived, the tenants saw their chance arise. They killed the heir to the landowner, hoping for the inheritance. Because what’s a father without his rightful heir? Nothing.

Condemned to die and take the family’s name and fame with him to the grave.

Naivety meets naivety. The landowner believes in the power of authority and entitlement. He had invested into a vineyard, he had leased it to tenants and he expected them to fulfill their contract according to the law.

The tenants on the other side believe in the power of numbers and sowing fear. They feel strong because they are many and they feel righteous because they have been working hard in the vineyard. Since the landowner hadn’t shown up in quite a while they had basically forgotten about him. They felt like the land was theirs and so the produce was theirs, their hand’s work. Their honest, hard work. All they had to do is keep it to themselves. Their honest, hard work. Forgetting, that someone else had put them in the position to harvest in the first place. That they are privileged to have what they have. Even though they worked for it.

And yet, that’s not even the hardest lesson they have to accept yet. The hardest is that the landowner will ask for his share. We could call it a tax. Which makes it much more relatable. I mean, who likes to pay taxes?

The tenants weren’t lazy. It’s not like the tenants haven’t produced any fruit. They have, the harvest is plentiful. But they mistake their success for their rightful property. They think they don’t owe it to anyone, they are owners. Which gives them the right to stand their ground and to decide what they want to do with it. Sharing is not part of it.

Jesus explains: I tell you, the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people that produces the fruits of the kingdom.

Again, it’s not about the actual amount of grapes produced of the vineyard. It’s about the fruits of the kingdom. That is an important little distinction. The vineyard in this parable doesn’t automatically stand for the kingdom of God. No matter how much fruit it produces.

It only has the potential to be turned into the kingdom through the faithful sharing of resources and produce. It will be the kingdom of God if it’s a circle of blessings. And paying taxes rightfully is only part of it.

The crucial thing is to share what we have freely and happily. Our selves, our time and our possessions. Our stories, our laughter, our talents, our ideas. The kingdom of God is built on sharing what we have because no matter how hard we worked for it, God made it possible in the first place.

In short: God wants us to be good stewards. And that means: If you keep all your good work to yourself, it’s not worth anything in the eyes of God. Keeping everything means living in a mere survival mode. Giving everything means living in the kingdom of God.

So, where do we as a church find ourselves? Who do we share with?

These theoretical questions become quite real when we start looking at: For what do we spend money as a church? And who do we want the pastor to spend her time with? Mostly with you because you pay for me? Or mostly with people who aren’t Christians yet? Or mostly to people who are in great spiritual need?

Let me give you an example. During the summer I spent a lot of time planning the Racial Justice Activation Circle we are hosting right now. I am really passionate about it and want as many people as possible to get a chance of this kind of learning. Yet, I hesitated at first to send my curriculum I had spent hours and hours putting together, to other pastors. Somehow, it felt like they would just profit of the fruits of my labor. Maybe, they would get praised for it? Maybe even more than I? It took me a couple of weeks to make up my mind and to remind myself, that I wasn’t doing this to be recognized as special or anything but to help others learn and see about racism what I had come to learn.

Thank God for great colleagues who encouraged me to just share my work. And who trusted me enough to host their own circles, using my materials.

And another example: The other day I talked to Sheela, a wonderful member of the council at Good Shepherd South Asian Ministry here in Fremont. The church hasn’t had a pastor in quite a while now. Last Sunday I was honored to celebrate Holy Communion with them via Zoom. They have 9 kids in their congregation who would love to learn what they call “Lutheran hymns”. Songs from our red Hymnal. But since most of the members are of South Asian heritage, they don’t really know them either. So, their great wish was to find someone to teach the kids some hymns. Over Zoom, of course. And I happily volunteered. I mean, how wonderful will it be to sing a bit with kids, to talk about the songs and to get to know them. What a gift to me as a pastor. I was all excited. Then, Sheela said: “Of course, we will compensate you for your time.”

I stopped for a moment, swallowed and replied: “You know, I am sure my church won’t mind if I sing with your kids once or twice a month.” To be honest, I wasn’t sure all of you wouldn’t mind, but I hoped so. To make it sound less generous, I added: “You know, in times of Zoom both of our churches will benefit of your kids singing hymns.” Which is true, but not the point of it. The point is: Are we okay with sharing our resources as a church and be it as little as an hour or 2 a month of our pastor? And no, that is not a rhetorical question. That’s a real one.

Are we okay with sharing our resources? Obviously, the answer is yes. All of us give regularly to our church because that’s what members do. But how do we move from being tenants to becoming the people that produce the fruits of the kingdom?

Seemingly out of context, Jesus said to them: “Have you never read in the scriptures”. And that usually means theological trouble for anybody listening or reading. And then he adds this image that really has nothing to do with vineyards and fruits and beaten servants or killed sons.

‘The stone that the builders
rejected has become the cornerstone;
this was the Lord’s doing,
and it is amazing in our eyes’?

Of course, we have all been at church enough to know in a heartbeat, that Jesus is the cornerstone. The stone rejected by so many religious authorities. Jesus then continues to state some pretty serious consequences: “The one who falls on this stone will be broken to pieces; and it will crush anyone on whom it falls.” But cornerstones don’t fall. That’s the whole point. Cornerstones are stable and reliable and foundational. They don’t crush anyone. It’s also hard to fall on them, since they are to be found in the very corner of a building.

So, the entire threat is really an idle threat. It could even be a sign of hope. If the landowner rejects the tenants after they killed his slaves and his son, isn’t there a chance that they might change their minds and become the cornerstones of a new movement to build the kingdom of God? Grace is no one-way street and for sure no dead end. Grace keeps moving and hoping and loving.

Jesus own life leads to an act of violence: Crucifixion. Of the innocent Son and heir. Just like in the parable. But then all of a sudden it’s not the same. Because rather than return violence for violence. In the cross of Jesus God absorbs our violence and responds with life, with Jesus triumphant over death and offering, not retribution, but peace.

Whatever we may make of the words Matthew records Jesus offering, Jesus’ actual deeds are quite different. He does not shrink from the sacrifice on the cross, he does not return with vengeance, he does not kick anyone out of the kingdom of heaven. Instead, the resurrected Jesus, having taken on the worst that our violence can inflict, comes back and instructs his disciples to take the good news of the Gospel to the very ends of the earth, promising to be with them always.

That good news means in part that violence does not and will not have the last word. That the only response to violence is not more violence. That tragedy and death and loss and hatred are, in the end, no match for love and life and forgiveness and peace.

And that we don’t have to be perfect stewards to build the kingdom of God. That we can be tenants, trying our best to produce good grapes and meaningful experiences and sowing masks and giving our money, our time and ourselves. That we can be tenants and stewards at the same time. Even if we aren’t yet giving as generously as we could. But we are trying. We are learning to share. To think less about what hard work I put in to earn this money and more about what good my money will do when spent to help others and to grow the kingdom of God.

There is no limit. There is no limit in love and grace. Ever. Amen.