WALKIN’ THE WALK
Rev. Dr. Joyce Antila Phipps
Old First Church, Middletown, NJ
September 27, 2020
Texts: Jeremiah 2:1–13; Matthew 21:23–32
Ah, promises, promises. Most of us who are parents can relate to the story in this morning’s Gospel as we think back on the number of times one of our children promised to do something and then didn’t while another one of our children followed through. But as we look back on our own childhoods, how many times did we have the fault of the one who promised but did not perform? It’s perfectly normal, of course. We didn’t want to say no, but we knew that we probably wouldn’t follow through, do what was expected, keep our promise?
As a child growing up with deaf parents, I know that sometimes I felt put upon or even resented what seemed like tasks that other kids didn’t have to do. I can remember my own parents being frustrated when I didn’t keep a commitment, a promise. Even as adults we get asked to do things that we really don’t want to do but to which we have grudgingly agreed. In such situations we feel boxed in with little room to maneuver. We agree, hoping the situation will take care of itself. At least for a while we are no longer pestered to do whatever.
Unfortunately, all too well I can relate to the second son.
So why do we make commitments or promises that we know we most likely won’t keep? Usually to get the immediate pressure off our backs. Makes sense, doesn’t it? But in the long run, it doesn’t because the promise comes back to haunt us. A promise is by its very nature a commitment. It could be a commitment as seemingly small to call someone or send a card; it could be a commitment as deep as to be faithful in a relationship or to an obligation, such as to be faithful to God. That, of course, is what Jeremiah is railing about in this morning’s reading, the beginning of a long diatribe that did not win him the hearts and minds of the Israelites, to be sure.
Sometimes, of course, we get caught between competing interests forcing us to forego one commitment for another. That usually happens when we try to live a 48-hour day when there are only 24 hours in it. I relate really well to that one. Sometimes there’s just not enough time in the day and we are forced to choose one commitment over another, sometimes with painful consequences. But in this morning’s Gospel, none of these seemingly rational explanations hold: the second son, asked to carry out a task that the first son refused, just didn’t do it.
Jesus’ comment, of course, must have really angered his audience. This parable is set in the context of Jesus being challenged by those who in the popular mind held the keys to the kingdom. When Jesus enters the temple, the chief priests and elders demand to know the basis of his authority to teach. Jesus, of course, turns the question on its head and his questioners struggle with how to answer because of their concern for their own power. Thrown into a panic over a question that doesn’t even relate to their question to Jesus, they react as people who are unsure of their own authority or their own ability to even answer the simplest question often do. I mean, seriously now, what does Jesus’ question about John have to do with Jesus’ authority? Nothing, nothing at all. It’s a great tactic of course, disarming the questioner. And Jesus knew how to do it really well.
Then comes the bombshell: the outcasts will get to the kingdom of God first, ahead of the so-called righteous. Can’t you just imagine the scene? The priests and elders must have really, really been angry. Who does this guy think he is? Telling us that tax collectors, symbols of Rome, and prostitutes, symbols of sexual filth, the most despised people in our society are going to be in the kingdom ahead of us? The parable, of course, gives the reason. It’s not what you say; it’s what you do that counts. In other words, the chief priests and elders may talk the talk, but they don’t walk the walk. They are no different than the ruling classes in the time of Jeremiah. Jesus wasn’t popular and neither was Jeremiah.
We really don’t like people who call us to account, who demand that we practice what we preach. I mean, it’s okay as long as we are doling out the money, feeling good about ourselves when we do it, but when we have to do something distasteful, like treat the scum around us as equals . . . well, that’s different. We all have our prejudices, the way we carve out boundaries about walkin’ the walk. That includes me. The question then becomes how we engage ourselves in the struggle to overcome the boundaries, the restrictions we set up for ourselves.
Jeremiah’s world was one of broken promises, one where Israel had forsaken its covenant with God. A covenant is only slightly different from a promise that I will do x for someone; it’s a mutual promise, an agreement between two parties. The imagery in Jeremiah is poetic: Israel had forsaken God, the fountain of living water, and dug out cisterns for themselves, cracked cisterns that hold no water. Several chapters further, Jeremiah makes the connection between Israel forsaking God and social injustice where the rich live off the poor. Jesus makes the same connection when he cries woe to the scribes and Pharisees a few chapters down the road in Matthew’s Gospel. Both condemn talkin’ the talk but not walkin’ the walk.
It’s really difficult to look at the present situation in the United States and not want to make the same observation. As a nation, we are not holding to the principles on which we were established, that all are created equal and as equals have access to the structures of justice. We have a history of carving out exceptions and that history will come home to roost. In some way, it already has. The lack of a sustained national leadership in this healthcare crisis is just one example of the chickens coming home to roost.
First, there was the claim that the virus was nothing serious, that it would go away in the spring. Obviously it didn’t. Then there were the almost comical press briefings with all kinds of non-scientific advice, but what else would we expect from a President who says that we should not rely on science because “science doesn’t know.”
Even his attacks on China have not reduced the Chinese-made junk decorations for Halloween, not to mention Christmas. Just look at the Halloween stuff even in PetSmart! We would rather do that than pay taxes to maintain our infrastructure or rebuild the Gulf States after the last storm.
Here we are in Monmouth County, New Jersey, one of the wealthiest counties in the United States, and we do not have enough affordable housing to take care of those who are poor. What has happened to our covenant as a society? The United States wasn’t built on individuals but was established as the result of a common effort. Even when John Adams and Thomas Jefferson fought each other they still realized that the common effort was what counted.
We’ve got to get back to walkin’ the walk, to respecting the covenant each of us has made with each other as members in this society. The road back will not be easy; it never is but unless we address the real issues in our society––housing, medical care, infrastructure, real equality of opportunity, and our own basic greed––we will continue to experience the upheavals that are just symptoms of the underlying causes. You see, Jesus and Jeremiah were both right. We can’t just talk the talk; we’ve got to walk the walk.
Let us pray: Eternal Guardian of our lives, help us to live our covenant with you and with each other. In the name of him who came to fulfill your covenant, even Christ Jesus our Lord, Amen.