What's Past is Past

 

In Matthew’s deceptively simple parable (Matthew 21 28-32), Jesus invites his adversaries to look at the future, as one not dominated by the arguments of the past, but one that is open to God’s presence in our lives to restore, and make all things new. 

The chief priests and elders do not accept this invitation. The idea of the "presence of God in the lives of man" is not only foreign, it is blasphemous. Besides, they have too much invested in the past and their beliefs which are defined by their own man-made rules that they have they have assumed the “authority” to enforce. 

They have become dependent on their self-created identities and  refuse to give it up for an unknown future. But those who are “down and out,” and represent the marginalized , e.g., the poor, the tax collectors and prostitutes have no past to define or follow them into the future. They eagerly embrace Jesus’ promise of a new life in God's kingdom. 

Throughout our readings of Matthew these past weeks, Jesus makes this same promise to us. We are forgiven solely because there is a forgiver. We are loved unconditionally; we cannot earn or lose God’s love. No matter what we have done, no matter what may have been done to us, the future is still open. Whatever hurt we may have experienced or done in the past is, ultimately…in the past. We do not have to allow the past to define our future or our identity. We do not have to drag our past around with us and take it out whenever we feel the need to linger in its memory. We are more than the sum total of all that has happened to us. 

The future is open. It may seem almost impossible to let go of the past and walk into the future. After all, the past is a known entity; it’s familiar, whereas the future is open… and can be scary. But if we meditate on and invoke the words of Thomas Merton, we know that we are not alone: l will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me alone. No, you will never leave me alone. (excerpts in part from Partner in Preaching, David Lose, 9/22/14)

 

 

The last will be first, and the first will be last."

 The story from (Matthew 20:1-16) is one that asks us to put on the mind of the poet and think in metaphor. On the surface it defies logic and the world of “fairness” in which we live. But man’s sense of fairness and God’s “justice” are not the same. Can we blame some of the gardeners for feeling that they were duped: “what’s going on here; we worked from dusk to dawn, and these guys arrive just before closing time and they get the same pay?  That’s not fair!” Who could argue with their logic? Think of it—if you tried to run a business on the basis of paying everyone the same rate, regardless of how well and long they worked, your business wouldn’t last very long and you’d have some very disgruntled employees.

Just as God’s forgiveness requires that we turn logic on its head and suspend our belief system of “quid pro quo,” likewise God’s realm of justice and peace defies our sense of fairness. God’s love has nothing to do with logic or fairness. These are all part of a human convention and a world based on rules, laws and logic.  There is nothing we can do to earn God’s love or his kingdom. In this kingdom, everyone receives the generosity of God’s grace, God’s unconditional love and God’s unfailing mercy.

David Steindel-Rast writes that “salvation” is homecoming. When love not power reigns supreme, alienation from ourselves, from all others, and from God is healed. The moment we realize we can never fall out of God’s love, we come to “ourselves” like the wayward son in the parable—to our true self at home in the God Household as a uniquely loved member of the family. And now we become catalysts for salvation of the whole world, its transformation from power and domination to service and love. Salvation—and this needs to be stressed—is not a private matter. (Deeper Than Words, Living the Apostle’s Creed, p56.)

In a very real sense, we are all “eleventh hour workers.”

Be Prepared

 

The kind of waiting Matthew is encouraging (Mathew 25:1-13) is difficult. Waiting for something way overdue or waiting for something you’re not sure will even come is challenging. How about waiting for someone who is the center of your life and not sure when he or she will arrive? It’s irritating and thoughtless if we are left in the dark, although in fairness he or she may not know themselves. In any case, it's unnerving. This special arrival involves preparation but being so distracted, it's hard to concentrate on the tasks at hand. And what about waiting for a return call from a doctor or lab? There is no way to prepare; what’s done is done. We just wait. The anxiety and stress of the “in-between time of waiting" can be difficult. 

This parable reminds us that we are not alone in our waiting. Upon closer look Jesus is speaking of his own “in-between time;” his own time of waiting. The scene is set between Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem and his trial and crucifixion. And one thing on which Matthew and the other Gospel writers agree is that Jesus knew what was coming. Yet here he is, still teaching the crowds; debating his opponents, and instructing his disciples…even as he waits for the coming cross. When he gets to the garden we know how difficult waiting was for Jesus, and how all his followers were so “hard to find,” even after he asked them to wait with him.  

Waiting for Jesus’ imminent return is difficult for most of us to conceptualize; yet, Jesus’ presence is with us always. Each time we work for justice, we testify to the presence of Jesus. Each time we help one another, we testify to Jesus’ presence. Each time we stand up for the poor, or reach out to the friendless, we testify to the presence of the Risen Christ.  

We are the Church. We are those who wait for each other. We are those who support each other in times of pain, loss or bereavement. We are those who help each other wait, and prepare, and keep the faith. In all these ways, we encourage each other with the promises of Christ. That’s what it means to be Christ’s followers, then and now.