Spirit of the Heartland

Spirit of the Heartland

A Sermon for the Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost
The Rev. Patricia A. Gillespie

Ezekiel 18:1-4,25-32
Psalm 25:1-14
Philippians 2:1-13
Matthew 21:28-32

"The Parable of the Seven Dogs?"

This little vineyard story about the two sons is not good news for those of us who tend to bite of more than we can chew. Who say, "Oh, sure, I can do that," forgetting that we've already said we'd do ten other things at the same time.

I think of my long list of things I really intend to do, that are still left undone. I remember that saying about where that road paved with good intentions leads. And I think perhaps I should be more like the son who said "No" in the first place.

So is Jesus asking us to say "no" to God? That's rather disrespectful. Is he arguing for caution about saying "yes" too many times? Or is Jesus, who is himself "The Word of God," saying, "Actions speak louder than words"? Sometimes stories like this seem more confusing than helpful.

There was a woman and she had seven dogs. Two were blind. Two had obedience training. And the others were just regular dogs, generally minding their own business.

One day, when the dogs were in various places around the house, doing their usual doggy things, the woman dropped a cookie on the floor and then called the dogs to come clean up. Boomer, the blind beagle, who at the time was farthest away, smelled cookies, heard it drop, and ran up and inhaled the pieces of cookie almost before the woman called for the dogs. Marcus Aurelius, the other blind dog, who always stayed close by his trusted person, arrived next. Then a whole pack of them showed up, but the last to arrive was Inger, the well behaved, obedience-trained norwegian elkhound, who had been watching the neighbor's dog out the window.

Fortunately, the woman had eight cookies.

So, what are we supposed to learn from this "parable of the seven dogs"?

If Jesus were telling this story, by asking these kinds of questions we'd be getting sidetracked already. Most of Jesus's stories – the ones we call "parables" – have just one point. And most of his parables have an unexpected twist, often turning our worldview upside down...

So what is the one point of this dog story? First let's turn it upside down and ask a basic question: Is this story about the dogs or about the woman? Check out that bottom line: "Fortunately, the woman had eight cookies." So, shift the focus from the dogs and handicaps and obedience, and look at the bottom line which is that every dog that shows up, sooner or later, is going to get a cookie.

And there's the one point of "the parable of the seven dogs": The crazy woman gives cookies to them all.

Parables have just one point. The audience is not supposed to spin them out and guess at other implications. Parables are not allegories, where each element means something. So look again at the simple story that Jesus tells in today's reading: And forget trying to figure out if the first son was acting out of guilt from having been rude to his father; and don't bother trying to diagnose the second son as either well intentioned or passive aggressive.

Look instead at the context of Jesus's story. The line before today's gospel reading has Jesus saying to the chief priests and the elders, "Neither will I tell you by what authority I am doing these things." The context is the questioning of Jesus's authority. The point of the parable, then, probably has something to do with authority.

And there's another context piece: This passage is surrounded by other passages about vineyards. Remember last week's reading? Where the some worked all day an others only an hour, yet the pay was the same? The bottom line both here and there is about Jesus' authority, and ultimately about God. Jesus, it seems, has God's authority to welcome into the kingdom those who turn and believe, regardless of their lousy track record, whether last week's late-arriving laborers or this week's prostitutes and tax collectors.

Like last week's reading, it seems unfair. Like the Israelite's in Ezekiel, we want to say, "The way of the Lord is unfair." Yet, the passage in our Old Testament reading is clear about fairness and justice: Children of sinners don't die for their parents' sins, but those who commit the sin do die. That's justice. But that's not all. Ezekiel is quite clear: Those who turn from righteousness and commit iniquity, they shall die for it. But there's more: Others who turn from wickedness and do right, they shall surely live. And the bottom line is that we have a choice: "God has no pleasure in the death of anyone. ... Turn, then, and live."

That's who receives life – those who turn to God. That's what the the tax collectors and prostitutes have done, and the chief priests and elders have not. The tax collectors and prostitutes turned and believed, and therefore Jesus says to the elders and chief priests, "Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you." Because the prostitutes and tax collectors turned and believed.

But it doesn't say they are going INSTEAD of you, rather they are going BEFORE you.

Just like those hired sooner-or-later to work in the vineyard, where everyone gets paid who is willing to work, now everyone who ever heads in God's direction is going into God's kingdom. That's Good News. Like the woman with eight cookies, God has gifts enough for all, if we choose to turn to God. Forgiveness, love and life, are there, ready and waiting for us.

God's kingdom IS fair and just. The choice is ours. If we choose wickedness and never to turn to God, we have chosen to turn away from life and will die. But whenever, sooner or later, we choose to turn to God, we shall surely live. Even if it is ‘re-turning' after lapsing in to wickedness, time after time – even as many as seven times seventy – when we turn to God, we shall surely live.

God's kingdom is fair and just. The choice is ours. "Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling.... Turn then and live."


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