Why Doesn't God Wipe Out The Wicked?
Sermon
In my spare time I enjoy a thriller, either on the screen or in book form. I discovered Patricia Cornwell on holiday, and have enjoyed reading about the exploits of her heroine Dr Kay Scarpetta, forensic pathologist.
Like all heroes and heroines of thrillers, Dr Scarpetta often walks into danger. As I sit in my armchair reading about a solo midnight assignation in a cold and lonely place, I find myself willing Dr Scarpetta not to go, for I know she's going to end up in trouble!
It's always obvious to the reader or the viewer that dark and lonely places, where the hero or heroine is instructed to go alone, are fraught with hazard and much better avoided.
So when I hear today's gospel story about the servants who were sent to the vineyard but beaten up by the tenants of the vineyard, I wondered what on earth possessed the owner of the vineyard to send a second lot of servants, let alone his own son.
Why didn't he go straight to the law? Why didn't he have those tenant farmers thrown into jail immediately? How could he risk the lives of yet more servants, when he must have known what would happen? And how, after goodness knows how many servants had been beaten or stoned or killed, could he possibly send his own son? It was perfectly obvious what would happen to his son, for the tenant farmers were clearly beyond all reason.
Reasonable people would have very quickly realised that disposing of the servants was not a sensible way of retaining their tenancy. And it was simple folly to imagine that murdering the owner's son would enable those tenants to inherit the vineyard. The only way they could possibly have inherited the vineyard under such circumstances, would be if the owner was so remote and uncaring that he had no idea what was happening.
Perhaps because the owner was in a far country, the tenant farmers really believed he was remote and uninterested in what was going on at his property. But a moment's consideration would have shown them that any owner who took the trouble to send two lots of servants and then his own son, was very deeply interested indeed.
It's all an allegory of course, aimed at the Jews. The religious authorities were deeply hostile to Jesus, so he told this story where the owner of the vineyard is clearly God who sent the first the prophets, then his own son to collect the harvest. And through this story Jesus the son predicts his own death at the hands of the Jewish religious authorities.
It's a story which perhaps sounds very unlikely to modern ears, and which at first sight perhaps seems to have nothing whatsoever to do with life today. But it's actually a story which has some quite disturbing undertones.
It offers a picture of a God who is deeply interested and concerned with his people, but who doesn't interfere. A God who allows his people to beat and to rape, to torture and to murder. A God who has given authority to his people, who has given his people charge of the vineyard, and who will therefore not snatch back that authority even in order to prevent war and violence and pornography and all the other evils of our day.
For our God is not a god of violence. He's not a Messiah who storms in with his troops and a great show of force to sort out the evil in human life. He allows the weeds to grow up with the corn, simply sending his messengers again and again and again to offer countless opportunities to change the way things are.
Our God is a God of grace. A God who showers his love on all and sundry. A God who opens his arms and welcomes every human being, no matter who they are or how they behave. A God who longs to give all his people the wonderful and amazing gifts he has waiting for them, but who refuses to force anyone into accepting his gifts.
And so he continues to send his servants to the people, to tell the people of his great love and to suggest ways in which they might better experience that love. But he simply places the facts before his people, making no attempt to persuade them or to cajole them into turning towards him. He has given his people free will, and no matter how bad they are or how much destruction they cause, God refuses to interfere with that free will. Everyone remains free to choose, safe in the knowledge that even if they choose evil, God will not rain down fire and brimstone upon them.
But like the tenant farmers in the vineyard, some people assume that because God is not a heavy-fisted tyrant who visits terrifying punishments upon his people, he either doesn't exist or he's so remote that he's not worth worrying about.
They'll discover their mistake when God comes to collect his harvest. The harvest is in terms of people who believe in God and in Jesus, the human face of God.
All that's necessary is belief in the reality of God, for those who truly believe cannot help but develop a relationship with this God who loves them so much. And those who experience that love are incapable of keeping it to themselves. They cannot but allow it to overflow to all those around them. And once a genuine, personal relationship begins to develop with this God of love, this God within, then the fruits of the spirit - love, joy, peace, and so on - begin to come to fruition.
None of us know when harvest time is for God. His ways are not our ways and his thoughts are not our thoughts, and the length of his days is very different to the length of our days. But he will come, for the owner of the vineyard loves his people and wants the harvest.
What is our part in all this? We Christians are the tenant farmers. It's our responsibility to farm in such a way that the harvest is plentiful. We are the ones to whom the owner of the vineyard will look when he comes to collect his harvest.
So it's up to us to show our world that there's a better way than violence and pornography and the worship of money and success, and other evil. It's up to us to find a way of telling our world about our God of love and about Jesus, so that the world can actually hear what we say. And it's up to us to deepen our own relationship with God so that we can't help but display the fruits of his spirit in our own lives.
And when the owner of the vineyard comes to collect his harvest, how good it will be to hear him say, "Well done, thou good and faithful servants."
Like all heroes and heroines of thrillers, Dr Scarpetta often walks into danger. As I sit in my armchair reading about a solo midnight assignation in a cold and lonely place, I find myself willing Dr Scarpetta not to go, for I know she's going to end up in trouble!
It's always obvious to the reader or the viewer that dark and lonely places, where the hero or heroine is instructed to go alone, are fraught with hazard and much better avoided.
So when I hear today's gospel story about the servants who were sent to the vineyard but beaten up by the tenants of the vineyard, I wondered what on earth possessed the owner of the vineyard to send a second lot of servants, let alone his own son.
Why didn't he go straight to the law? Why didn't he have those tenant farmers thrown into jail immediately? How could he risk the lives of yet more servants, when he must have known what would happen? And how, after goodness knows how many servants had been beaten or stoned or killed, could he possibly send his own son? It was perfectly obvious what would happen to his son, for the tenant farmers were clearly beyond all reason.
Reasonable people would have very quickly realised that disposing of the servants was not a sensible way of retaining their tenancy. And it was simple folly to imagine that murdering the owner's son would enable those tenants to inherit the vineyard. The only way they could possibly have inherited the vineyard under such circumstances, would be if the owner was so remote and uncaring that he had no idea what was happening.
Perhaps because the owner was in a far country, the tenant farmers really believed he was remote and uninterested in what was going on at his property. But a moment's consideration would have shown them that any owner who took the trouble to send two lots of servants and then his own son, was very deeply interested indeed.
It's all an allegory of course, aimed at the Jews. The religious authorities were deeply hostile to Jesus, so he told this story where the owner of the vineyard is clearly God who sent the first the prophets, then his own son to collect the harvest. And through this story Jesus the son predicts his own death at the hands of the Jewish religious authorities.
It's a story which perhaps sounds very unlikely to modern ears, and which at first sight perhaps seems to have nothing whatsoever to do with life today. But it's actually a story which has some quite disturbing undertones.
It offers a picture of a God who is deeply interested and concerned with his people, but who doesn't interfere. A God who allows his people to beat and to rape, to torture and to murder. A God who has given authority to his people, who has given his people charge of the vineyard, and who will therefore not snatch back that authority even in order to prevent war and violence and pornography and all the other evils of our day.
For our God is not a god of violence. He's not a Messiah who storms in with his troops and a great show of force to sort out the evil in human life. He allows the weeds to grow up with the corn, simply sending his messengers again and again and again to offer countless opportunities to change the way things are.
Our God is a God of grace. A God who showers his love on all and sundry. A God who opens his arms and welcomes every human being, no matter who they are or how they behave. A God who longs to give all his people the wonderful and amazing gifts he has waiting for them, but who refuses to force anyone into accepting his gifts.
And so he continues to send his servants to the people, to tell the people of his great love and to suggest ways in which they might better experience that love. But he simply places the facts before his people, making no attempt to persuade them or to cajole them into turning towards him. He has given his people free will, and no matter how bad they are or how much destruction they cause, God refuses to interfere with that free will. Everyone remains free to choose, safe in the knowledge that even if they choose evil, God will not rain down fire and brimstone upon them.
But like the tenant farmers in the vineyard, some people assume that because God is not a heavy-fisted tyrant who visits terrifying punishments upon his people, he either doesn't exist or he's so remote that he's not worth worrying about.
They'll discover their mistake when God comes to collect his harvest. The harvest is in terms of people who believe in God and in Jesus, the human face of God.
All that's necessary is belief in the reality of God, for those who truly believe cannot help but develop a relationship with this God who loves them so much. And those who experience that love are incapable of keeping it to themselves. They cannot but allow it to overflow to all those around them. And once a genuine, personal relationship begins to develop with this God of love, this God within, then the fruits of the spirit - love, joy, peace, and so on - begin to come to fruition.
None of us know when harvest time is for God. His ways are not our ways and his thoughts are not our thoughts, and the length of his days is very different to the length of our days. But he will come, for the owner of the vineyard loves his people and wants the harvest.
What is our part in all this? We Christians are the tenant farmers. It's our responsibility to farm in such a way that the harvest is plentiful. We are the ones to whom the owner of the vineyard will look when he comes to collect his harvest.
So it's up to us to show our world that there's a better way than violence and pornography and the worship of money and success, and other evil. It's up to us to find a way of telling our world about our God of love and about Jesus, so that the world can actually hear what we say. And it's up to us to deepen our own relationship with God so that we can't help but display the fruits of his spirit in our own lives.
And when the owner of the vineyard comes to collect his harvest, how good it will be to hear him say, "Well done, thou good and faithful servants."
