Ex. 20:1-4, 7-9, 12-20

Philippians 3:4b-14

Matthew 21:33-46

The problem with a religion of rules – a religion that is all about the do’s and don’ts and the laws of faith – is that it ultimately takes the God of Jesus Christ out of the picture. If being in a “state of grace,” – that is, if being saved, sanctified, holy, made right, etc. – is something that we can achieve by doing the right things and living the right way, than theoretically we can do this on our own. We can see the rules, follow the rules, and be saved by our own following.

According to this way of thinking, God comes into the picture, I guess, in the sense that you might be able to please God by your goodness. But, before you know it God becomes the one whom you are always trying to make happy, to appease, to measure up to. God becomes a judge who is just waiting for you to mess up. And, it is very hard to love this kind of a God.

There’s an interesting strand of the Reformed Church’s tradition called the piety movement. Pietists were folks who felt passionately that authentic faith was an orientation of the heart. They rejected the false structures of The Church, the human constructs of religion, in favor of a personal union with the Lord that warmed the heart of a true believer and inspired acts of compassion and faith. It sounds good, right? Except, as I understand it, these people became, well, really pietistic and obnoxious. If somebody was keeping track of who entered the bar and who let a bad word slip from his lips it was a pietist. Outward expression was the sign of inward conversion, so if those outward expressions weren’t right the pietists were sure to take note. What seemed like a good think kinda turned less good.

I feel like there is a similar dynamic with the chief priests and Pharisees. Their intentions, ostensibly, were good and honorable. They were the protectors of the faith, the keepers of the law. They were the ones charged with maintaining the traditions and practices that God handed down to govern God’s people.   What were they to do but defend the rules and the religion from Jesus and people like him who rose up and claimed more authority than their due? And yet, what Jesus makes clear is that these men had lost their way. They acted as though people were made for the law and not the law for the people. They treasured the rules more than they treasured God’s people, and when God incarnate stood before them they chose the law instead.

In the parable that he tells them, the chief priests and Pharisees learn that though they had thought of themselves as the landowners of the story and the ones who get to pronounce judgment, they are in fact the tenants, the renters, who have corrupted the intentions of the owner, acted reprehensibly, and claimed far more than was theirs to claim.

They hate Jesus for this, and understandably, the message would have been hard to hear. The apostle Paul, back when he was Saul the Pharisee hated Jesus too. He persecuted the church and tracked down Christians to bring them to trial. As for the law he was blameless. But, what Paul discovered on that road to Damascus was that there was a better salvation than the one his own righteousness could bring him. There was a state of grace that, far from being anything he could achieve on his own, was truly grace, never taken and only received.

Two UCC ministers, Martin Copenhaver and Tony Robinson, have written a book called, Words for the Journey. It’s a collection of letters to their teenage children about life and faith. (I’m reading it at the moment because I’m thinking of using it with our Confirmands.) In his letter for the topic: “God,” Tony writes:

Belief in human power and human potential is so great in our society that people often feel no need for God. Of course, believing in yourself is important, but like all good things, it can be pushed too far. These days, human power, especially through technology, is so great that instead of being content to be human beings, who have limits to their knowledge and their power and their goodness, people end up playing God. People fool themselves into believing that they are in control or in charge of life. Whether it’s an individual doing this or a society or government, when human beings play God, when we believe we know it all or can understand everything, it always ends, sooner or later, in disaster. [1]

The message that Paul learned, the message that both blinded him and enabled him to see so much more, was the message that he was not meant to go it alone. He was meant to rely on Christ. He was meant to be the tenant and not the owner. And this discovery was not an offense, but rather, a relief. “In Christ I have a righteousness that is not my own and that does not come from the Law, but rather from the faithfulness of Christ.”

What a burden lifted that is! To me it is the difference between a tireless striving to earn what you can never quite get and the peace of receiving something greater that’s given. But also lifted is the burden of a God who sits joyously in judgment, the God whom we can never fully please and never truly love. What Paul gets beyond Grace is the God who gives it – a God who loves because that is God’s desire – a God who would sooner die than have us go it alone – a God who calls us beyond ourselves and says, “Let ME be your God so that you may be my people.”

[1] Copenhaver & Robinson, Words for the Journey, page. 2.