The Party’s Over: A Failure of Duty
Sermon for Sunday, September 28, 2008 (Proper 21)
Jesus said, “What do you think? A man had two sons…” (Matt. 21:28)
Any family with teenagers will probably find the Parable of the Two Sons familiar. A landowner asks his sons to work in his vineyard. The first grumpily refuses, but then changes his mind and goes off to work. The second son eagerly agrees with his father’s request, but then somehow never makes it to the vineyard.
I can’t count how often, in my teenage years, I put my own parents through this very same wringer. Sometimes I was the bad-good son, first digging in my heels, but later relenting and doing as they asked. Sometimes I was the good-bad son, first saying yes, but then going off to amuse myself and leaving my bed unmade, the lawn uncut, or the trash still sitting in the kitchen. How often my parents must have wondered what they did to deserve so challenging a child. Where was Dr. Phil when my parents needed him? Happily, I managed to redeem myself in their eyes… before I turned 50.
However, this reading from Matthew is not Jesus playing Dr. Phil. Rather, in Chapter 21 we encounter our Lord in the midst of the most important week of his life — the week of Passover in Jerusalem, the period you and I know as Holy Week. Matthew begins his narrative of the passion by recounting our Lord’s entry into Jerusalem. The people proclaim him as the king who comes in the name of the Lord. (v. 9) In a city teetering of the edge of riot, this acclaim heaped on the carpenter-turned-rabbi throws the capital into deeper turmoil (v. 10) and attracts the attention of the Jewish religious authorities who hold power only because the Romans find it convenient.
Jesus is now a marked man. Nevertheless, Matthew tells us that our Lord goes straight to the temple and overturns the tables of the moneychangers and the seats of those who sell doves. (v. 12) Because you and I know how the story goes, we can see that Jesus is performing a prophetic action, a public sign of God’s readiness to save his people. To the authorities, however, Jesus’ cleansing of the temple is an assault on the status quo which the chief priest and scribes are determined to defend. It is at this point, I think, that the authorities resolve to get Jesus out of the way by whatever means they can find. This, then, is the immediate context for today’s reading.
Working out this “Jesus problem” will take the authorities a few hours, and the willingness of one of the disciples to turn against his Master. Meanwhile, Matthew tells us, Jesus returns to the temple and is teaching a crowd of people when he is confronted by angry priests and scribes. They demand to know by what authority he presumes to violate temple customs. Jesus refuses to get into a “my authority is better than your authority” argument. Instead, he tells this parable of the Two Sons. It is, in reality, an indictment of the very chief priests and scribes who are interrogating him, along with all the others they represent.
Jesus cuts to the heart of the issue. It is God’s will, he says, that God’s sons (especially those who serve as leaders) tend God’s vineyard, or more precisely, care for God’s family. Which son, our Lord asks, did the Father’s will? Was it the one who said, “No, I won’t go,” but then did as the Lord required? Some reluctant sons may have felt they lacked the social status or talent or training for such an important task. Or perhaps these reluctant ones were told they should not even aspire to do the Father’s will. All that notwithstanding, these reluctant sons decided to plunge in and do something, because, after all, God required it.
Or was the Father’s will done by the son who said, “Yes, I will go,” but then didn’t. In the context of Matthew, these negligent sons are the very authorities with whom Jesus is speaking. They had all the social and political status one could wish for. They were clearly talented people. They had been trained for leadership. But in the end, they refused to care for the vineyard — God’s family — and instead exploited the weak for their own advantage. Even as the chief priests and scribes admit that it was the former son, rather than the latter, who did the Father’s will, they call down judgment upon their own heads. Their sins cry out against them.
You know, I find it interesting how often the events of the day evoke the images we find in Holy Scripture. That’s happening even now, in the midst of the financial turmoil which has engulfed the nation over the past few months, and especially this week.
If the present problem originated in the housing market, then we’ve been aware for many years that something was amiss here. When I began my work as an interim in 1996, most churches had already sold off their church-owned rectories and were offering priests a housing allowance to partially offset expenses for homes the clergy themselves purchased. The reason was simple: clergy living in church-owned housing were giving up the substantial increase in real estate values they would enjoy if they owned their own homes. As we know, that increase in housing values, already impressive nearly a decade and a half ago, grew more pronounced as the years passed, especially as lending practices were relaxed, as people with a yen to gamble began flipping houses for profit, as unscrupulous lenders played footsie with knowing and well-off buyers, and (lest we forget) as predatory lenders manipulated the unknowing poor who just wanted their inner city piece of the American dream.
I think it is beyond question that people in the know knew what was happening. This past Thursday Ron Suskind published a column in the New York Times detailing a meeting at the Treasury Department on February 22, 2002 — with details supplied by Paul O’Neill, President Bush’s first Treasury Secretary, and other sources. Participants included the Administration’s economic team, SEC chairman Harvey Pitt, and Federal Reserve Chair Alan Greenspan. This meeting followed the collapse of Enron which, as Suskind notes, resulted from “conflicts of interest and criminally creative bookkeeping…financial complexity and insanely expensive compensation packages.”
“To the surprise of many younger men in the room,” Suskind reports, O’Neill and Greenspan “opened by reminiscing about a bygone era when the value of a company’s stock was assessed by how strong a dividend it paid. It was a standard that demanded tough, tangible choices. Everything, of course, came out of the same pot of cash, from executive compensation and capital improvements to the dividend…
But times change and in recent years earnings had become the measure of corporate success. “In contrast to dividends, Mr. Greenspan intoned, ‘Earnings are a very dubious measure’ of corporate health. ‘Asset values are, after all, just based on a forecast,’ he said, and a chief executive can ‘craft’ an earnings statement in misleading ways.
Suskind then says, “Speaking with a hard-edged frankness rarely heard in public — and seeing that those assembled were not sharing his outrage — Mr. Greenspan slapped the table. ‘There’s been too much gaming of the system,’ he thundered. ‘Capitalism is not working…’”
I can’t tell you for certain if this meeting proceeded as Suskind indicates. In all seasons, especially one as political as this, we do well not to believe everything we read in the papers, or hear on radio and TV, or encounter on the internet. Fortune cookies may be a more reliable source of information, and they are lots more entertaining. Nevertheless, I have to assume that people in high places — in government and industry alike — had all the information they needed to put the puzzle together. The pieces were all there, laid out on the table. A housing market with values rising so fast we were calling it a “bubble” more than a decade ago. Mortgages being sold from one institution to another, with the result that a homeowner couldn’t tell who owned the paper. Dodgy mortgages packaged into instruments too complex for anyone to understand but so trendy that they sold like hotdogs at the ball park. Homeowners starting to lose their homes to foreclosure. Executives of high-flying companies who were handsomely, even luridly compensated for making the company fly a few feet higher. And, of course, a host of politicians anxious for the money needed to wage the next battle in the endless political war.
All these pieces of the jigsaw puzzle were on the table, readily visible to those who assembled to do the nation’s business in Treasury Department conference rooms and Wall Street board rooms and mortgage company offices and hearing rooms on Capitol Hill. Lest we forget, all these people had a duty to protect the system from abuse — certainly a moral duty, and most likely a legal duty as well. But they did not protect the public interest. Either they didn’t see the problem, which I find hard to believe, or they saw it and did nothing, because doing something would have ended the party.
In any case, these people failed in their duty. The net result is that we now face a financial problem so severe it threatens to derail the whole economy. Half a century from now, young economists will get their Ph.Ds explaining what happened to us over the past few days.
In our present context, then, we can — and I think we should — ask ourselves the same question Jesus posed to the chief priests and scribes: Which son did the will of the Father? If the will of the Father, in this situation, is to protect the common good — the widow and orphan as well as the rich, the smart as well as the dumb, the hourly worker and entrepreneur alike — then we had every right to expect responsible people to behave responsibly. If they did not, then we have work to do. Once this initial credit problem has been dealt with, we should act promptly to put the necessary safeguards in place. It is in the nature of vineyards to require constant attention. Amen.
— The Rev. John E. Laycock, Interim Pastor
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Readings for Year A, Proper 21: Lesson: — Exodus 17:1-7 | Gradual — Psalm 78:1-4, 12-16 | Epistle — Philippians 2:1-13 | Gospel — Matthew 21:23-32
Collect for Proper 21:
O God, you declare your almighty power chiefly in showing mercy and pity: Grant us the fullness of your grace, that we, running to obtain your promises, may become partakers of your heavenly treasure; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.