Sermon: Isaiah and the Vineyard - 19 August 07

Sermon: The Vineyard

Text: Isaiah 5.1-7

St. Paul’s L’Amoreaux, Pentecost 12 (Proper 20), August 19, 2007

There are three things I’d like us to notice in our lesson from Isaiah. And the first may be obvious to you, but did you notice that the speaker changes?

The lesson begins with Isaiah speaking on behalf of the Lord, like a friend paying tribute to another friend who goes unappreciated for the beautiful vineyard he has built.

But then, at the third verse, in this relatively short passage, the speaker changes - from the friend to the master, from Isaiah to the Lord.

“And now, inhabitants of Jerusalem and people of Judah,” says the Lord, “judge between me and my vineyard. What more was there to do for my vineyard that I have not done?” (Is 5:3-4)

I don’t know how many of you read, then saw the movie of J. R. R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings. About a year after the first movie, I received a DVD of it as a gift and eagerly watched it again at home. There was one scene, though, where watching at home was nothing like being in the theatre.

A little hobbit, Bilbo Baggins, has been custodian for a terrible ring. Because of its terrific power, it corrupts everyone who holds it and must be taken to the Mount of Doom and destroyed. A great wizard named Gandalf knows all this and is trying to transfer the ring from the hobbit Bilbo to his young nephew Frodo who will begin carrying it to its place of destruction. The wizard is very powerful, but kind and gentle among the hobbits. So kind, that they often forget his great power. And so on the fateful day when Gandalf the wizard requests that Bilbo the Hobbit hand over the ring, Bilbo, already a little corrupted by the ring, rudely refuses and accuses Gandalf of wanting it for himself.

At the accusation - and an effect that is terrifying in the theatre (and a bit lame on a small TV at home) - Gandalf the wizard grows to the size of a giant, fire and smoke surround him, and a great, deep voice comes from within him, ordering Bilbo to stop playing games about this dangerous ring, and stop treating him like a greedy con artist.

Little Bilbo hands over the ring.

That came to mind here. It is as if the Lord interrupts Isaiah in order to challenge the people directly: ‘Who do you think you’re dealing with?’

And then the Lord says, “I have delivered you into a land of plenty, and like the master of a vineyard, I have tilled the soil, cleared the rocks and built a watchtower within it for your safety and protection.

“But you have not trusted my oversight, you have spoiled the vineyard, and you have made the whole thing stink with your sinfulness and quarreling.”

Which is the second thing I’d have you notice.

On the one hand, it is a small thing, a word, but repeated twice in this passage. In the accusation that the Lord make against Israel, the Lord says, “I expected [the vineyard] to yield grapes, but it yielded wild grapes,” literally, ‘grapes that stink’, ‘grapes with a stench’.

Again, a small thing, but a sharp contrast between what the vineyard was intended for and what it has become: ‘a yard full of grapes that stink’.

On an afternoon before Halloween a few years ago, John Oakley, who was then with CFRB radio. thought it would be fun to get people to call in and tell about their experiences getting rid of the ‘smell of death’. What he was thinking of are those times when a little mouse dies behind a cupboard, or a bird in the rafter of a garage. I’m not sure he was expecting what he got.

Because right away an autobody mechanic phoned in. “From time to time,” he said, “it happens to us. We get cars that have been involved in fatal accidents. There is a terrible stench that’s left behind.”

“Here’s how we get rid of it. We remove the seats, the dashboard, and every piece of plastic, rubber, leather, fabric or wood that we can find. We then take a sandblaster and destroy every sliver of paint - the smell will seep into the paint. And we sell the little that’s left for parts.

“That’s how we get rid of the smell.”

Here in Isaiah this is a powerful accusation, because of how great the contrast is between something that’s sweet and something that’s become rotten. This vineyard has become the complete opposite of what was intended.

It is intended to be a place of justice.

It is intended to be a place of fairness, generosity and mercy.

It is intended to be a place of harmony.

It is intended to be a place set aside for glory and praise of God.

And it is intended that the influence of this place should spread. It is intended that this nation should be a light to all nations. It is intended that around this holy hill, all nations should gather.

But instead of justice, there is injustice.

Instead of fairness, cheating.

Instead of harmony, quarrelling and division.

Instead of the praise, the mistrust and defiance of God.

Instead of a vineyard, it’s a yard full of grapes that stink.

Now here’s the third thing, and again, by this point, you’ve probably noticed it, too. The comparison between the people and a vineyard made here in Isaiah is a comparison Jesus makes many times. But what we sometimes miss is that the comparison is made for the same reason.

In other words, what God was doing and building in Israel, God continues to pursue in Israel and now in the church, the new Israel of those who’ve been ‘grafted in’ through faith in Jesus Christ. Jesus deliberately used the same comparison that the prophets before him used. And the warning, the judgement - and the hope - that the prophet issues to Israel then is the warning, judgement, and hope that the prophet issues to the church today.

In some ways, I think it’s obvious.

We are to be righteous people.

We are to be just people.

We are to live in harmony, and to work hard when conflict arises.

We are always to remember the widow, the poor and the foreigner among us.

And the influence of being and becoming that kind of people is intended for the sake of the world.

Whenever we act unrighteously, unjustly, selfishly and in a pinched and provincial fashion, we become like grapes that stink.

But there’s another point that requires a bird’s eye view of Isaiah in order to see. One of the fascinating aspects of this prophet is the way in which he understands the nations. On the one hand, Isaiah describes the nation of Israel divided and fighting among itself. He also describes the neighbouring nations as instruments of God’s judgement who he will use to punish Israel. But against our tendency to cut and run whenever we see troubles, even though they see what’s coming, the prophets of Israel stay among the people in their time of punishment, knowing that the discipline of the Lord is the first step toward redemption.

The final destiny of God’s people is not injustice and dissension. The final destiny of the nations is not as a blunt instrument of judgement.

The final destiny of Israel is its redemption.

The final destiny for the nations is their redemption.

In similar fashion, Jesus warned the people of his day. And He too stayed among them, bearing on his shoulders the weight of this great clash between what God’s people are intended to become and what they have degenerated into. Jesus stayed among them even though it meant the road to Golgotha where he would be tried falsely and crucified unjustly.

But the final destiny for Israel is its redemption.

The final destiny for the world is its salvation.

This is a solemn lesson. We probably know too well all the different ways when we’ve looked for a vineyard and discovered grapes that stink. But are we prepared to receive the Lord’s correction? Have we the faith to lift our heads and contemplate that which God intends us to become? In this generation of dissension, quarreling and division, and hard as it is to accept, we also betray those plans not only when we contradict the way that God has commanded us to live, but whenever we flee the conflicts created when the old and the new life clash - conflicts in our homes, among our family and friends, in our parishes, in our world.

One old Bible commentator says (K. F. Keil):

[The book of Isaiah is about] a test sent from God for Judah and the house of David, in which it was their duty to decide in favour of faith and confidence simply in the omnipotence and the grace of the Lord; instead of which, they placed their confidence in the earthly worldly power of Assyria, and, as a punishment, were given over to . . . heathen nations, in order that, being purified by severe judgments, they might be led through deep sufferings to the glory of their divine calling.” (Quoted, Seitz, p. 7)

God’s plans are not for us as mere individuals. God’s plans are for a holy people, a nation of priests, raised up for the sake of the world. And this is the shining hope on the other side of the prophet’s message of judgement.

I am about to create new heavens and a new earth; the former things shall not be remembered or come to mind . . . I am about to create Jerusalem as a joy, and its people as a delight . . . no more shall the sound of weeping be heard in it, or the cry of distress . . . they shall plant vineyards and eat their fruit . . . The wolf and the lamb shall feed together . . . They shall not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain, says the Lord. (Is 65:17-25).

Sermon: The Call of Jeremiah, 26 August 07

Sermon: The Call of Jeremiah

Text: Jeremiah 1.4-10

St. Paul’s L’Amoreaux, Pentecost 13 (Proper 21), August 26, 2007

Our Old Testament lesson this morning is the gripping account of the Lord’s call of Jeremiah the prophet. And a couple of introductory words.

First, it is a mark of the way we do things in the Anglican Church that we read lessons like this in the first place. Because the schedule of readings we follow, called a lectionary, requires us to read not just our favourite lessons, but the hard ones, too.

I had a funny experience while teaching about the liturgy in Kenya and teaching about the difference between those things that are of primary and secondary importance. Those who plan the liturgy need to keep this in mind. They don’t want the service to go on and on. Neither do they want the essentials to be overlooked.

While teaching, one of the young clergy put up his hand and said, “We have that problem in our church. The services go on too long. Lots of singing, long testimonies and announcements. So we solved it. We don’t read the Bible anymore.”

He was reminded by me that the lessons are considered essential. He was warned by his principal, who was helping to translate, not to let it happen again.

I always like it when guilt and innocence mix. Like the proud young owner of a new porsche who can’t help correcting the traffic cop who stopped him. “No, you’re wrong,” complains the speeder. “I was going at least twice that fast!”

We need the whole counsel of Scripture in order that our lives might be shaped according to God’s purposes and will. But these are tough ones to consider.

Secondly, I want to say again what I said last week about Isaiah. It is easy to forget that the Old Testament record about Israel continues to serve as an example for us as modern Christians. And it serves as a warning when we read about the people descending into division and disloyalty to God. And the point is simple. The same temptations which faced Israel face the church. We must be on guard against destructive conflict and disloyalty to God.

But here’s a point that I’ve only begun to understand in the last few years. Much is made in Isaiah, and also here in Jeremiah, about a remnant from whom God would rebuild his people (Is. 11.1). But do you realize that the prophets never identify who the remnant is? Only God knows. And it is left to the prophets and the people to wait and see how God will raise up those who’ve been faithful. It is left to the people to obey the Lord and remain faithful throughout.

This is the same point made in Jesus’ parable of the wheat and the weeds (Mt. 13.24ff.). It is left to the Lord to sort out the faithful from the unfaithful.

For that reason, a humble priest and his wife like Zechariah and Elizabeth, an unsuspecting but righteous couple like Joseph and Mary, and a tottering and prayerful couple like Simeon and Anna are the perfect examples and the ones to whom the Messiah, Jesus Christ the Lord, would first appear.

To our great harm, Christians have been too eager - far too eager - to declare who is, and who is not faithful, and to take it upon themselves to separate themselves from those thought to be unfaithful.

I mention this second point because I do not want to ignore the elephant pounding around in the room. This is a generation in which the Christian churches in general, and the Anglican Church in particular, are quarrelling and breaking up. This is not just an Anglican problem. At last count, there are 40,000 Christian denominations, and I’m told a new one created once every 2 or 3 days. But it most certainly is an Anglican problem, and we face difficult days ahead.

Conflict is unavoidable and we discover God and God’s purposes through a great struggle in a dangerous world. But the large difference I see, when comparing Israel to the church, is that Israel and its prophets knew that God’s intention was for them as a people, and they came to realize that there are times when they all must bear the confusion and disarray brought upon them by unfaithfulness and the tumult of the times.

That is the example of Jeremiah. One of his most famous speeches was just as the Babylonians were about to attack. All around him, his own people believed there was nothing to worry about. All around him, hundreds of prophets who also claimed the inspired word of the Lord, declared that all was well. Life could go on as it was.

But Jeremiah thundered in reply: “Peace, peace, where there is no peace.”

Did they thank him for his insight? They threw him into a well.

Did they praise him for his courage and independence? They wanted to kill him.

Did it draw him closer to the Lord? He accused the Lord of violating him.

But did Jeremiah give up, lose faith, or abandon his people?

No! And the most eloquent tribute to this great prophet is the fact that immediately after his most violent complaints about the people and toward God, the next day we see him back at it, warning the people, guiding the people, pointing the people back to the life for which they were intended, holding out hope to the people that God does not forget his promises. God will rebuild.

Generations later, it became clear that Jeremiah had spoken for the Lord, and he was the one around whose counsel the people could rebuild.

Christians, on the other hand, and modern Christians in particular, have been notoriously guilty of concluding that God’s purposes is for them, individually, and notoriously unconcerned when the conflict leads to division, and further division - and further division - to the tune of another new denomination every 2 or 3 days.

How does this rise from our lesson in Jeremiah?

Briefly, two things from verse five.

First, in a backhanded fashion we are warned of the cost. The lesson begins with the haunting description of the prophet’s call and of the Lord’s choice of him from even before the time of his birth.

“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you.” (Je 1:5) It is a beautiful description, of God’s knowledge and commissioning of Jeremiah, but it carried with it a tremendous cost, as the call of God always does.

We can be quite sentimental about the call of the Lord. But if the Lord calls, hang on to your hat.

It is similar to the description that the psalmist uses of himself in Psalm 71, and the psalmist finds himself surrounded by enemies ready to pounce.

And yet, his conclusion is not one of despair, but of dependence upon God and hope in the faithfulness of God.

O my God, make haste to help me! . . . But I will hope continually, and will praise you yet more and more. My mouth will tell of your righteous acts, of your deeds of salvation all day long (Ps 71:11-15).

And as one commentator puts it, instinctively the psalmist realizes that suffering is not wasted if that agony is part of God’s redemptive work in the world.

Why is the call of the Lord so costly? Because the saving plans of the Lord are so great!

The second thing, also from verse 5, is the purpose for which Jeremiah is being raised up:

“I appointed you a prophet to the nations . . . to break down, and to build up.” (Je 1:5)

As mentioned last week, one of the fascinating aspects of the prophets is the way in which they understand the nations. Both Jeremiah and Isaiah describe the nation of Israel as divided and fighting among itself. And they describe the neighbouring nations as instruments of God’s judgement who God will use to punish Israel. But this is not the ultimate purpose - for Israel or the nations. Israel is not abandoned to division and ruin. The nations are not meant to be only cudgels of punishment.

The final destiny of God’s chosen is to be a holy people, a nation of priests, a light to the nations. The final destiny for the nations is their redemption and salvation. “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son . . .”

Which is why the calling of Jeremiah, and our calling as God’s ambassadors in the world, is never easy. We are being drawn into God’s redemptive purposes for the world. Purposes which we only understand in part. Purposes which involve a great struggle, like labour pains, St. Paul says. Purposes that extend beyond our sight-lines and into the generations that will follow us.

I’ve mentioned before the process going on right now for the beautification of Mother Theresa, and that, to the surprise of many, the investigation has revealed that for most of Mother Teresa’s active ministry in the streets of Calcutta and among the world’s poorest of poor, she herself was experiencing profound spiritual darkness. Incidentally, this was splashed on the front page of the National Post (August 25, 2007) just yesterday.

But rather than despair, she turned her own feelings of abandonment into even greater dependence on God and her feelings of purposelessness into sharply focussed acts of service among the poorest of the poor.

There was no outward sign of it. Mother Theresa radiated joy and love. And few can imagine her doing what she did with that kind of inner struggle occurring. Where did she find the strength and inspiration to carry on?

But I was interested in what the reporter noticed.

This discovery came as no surprise to the investigators because it is a common characteristic of saintly people. And yet, fittingly, Mother Theresa’s struggles are the sources of deepest suffering in our time - meaninglessness and abandonment!

But rather than give in to her feelings of meaninglessness and abandonment, she became even more focussed in service and abandoned herself more fully to God.

In fact, as the darkness deepened within her, light seem to radiate from her even more brightly among those she lived and served. People who met her were always struck by her smile and a palpable feeling of love and radiance. Little did they know that her smile was an act of the will which she offered as a simple expression of her faith in Jesus Christ.

How does a person come to give their life for the poorest of the poor?

How does a person carry on in the dark night of the soul?

Jeremiah offers us a clue.

They do so under the conviction that God is faithful, and the suffering which comes to God’s people is meaningful as it is part of God’s plan of salvation.

They do so under the conviction that God’s purposes are for the world. We are called for that purpose. We are privileged to join in service.

But I will hope continually, and will praise you yet more and more. My mouth will tell of your righteous acts, of your deeds of salvation all day long (Ps 71:11-15).