By This Authority

By This Authority

Matthew 21:23-32

When I was in high school, I was on the cross country and track teams. I wasn’t necessarily all that good at running, but I enjoyed it. I enjoyed the pacing, the strategy, the community of other runners. I read magazines dedicated to running. And I even enjoyed watching other people run.

One of the best things about being in the Kansas City area back then was the Big 8 Conference Indoor Track meet. It was held downtown at Municipal Auditorium each year. Elite college athletes gathered and competed against each other, and for only a few dollars, you could hear the thunderous pounding of their steps on the elevated wooden track. One year, a bunch of us got tickets to go to the meet so that we could watch these elite college athletes run in circles on an indoor track.

One of the worst things about having the meet in downtown Kansas City was the traffic. There would be a lot of visitors from the other conference schools, which meant there were a lot of people who didn’t know that some parking garages could only be entered by right hand turns. They didn’t know that some streets were one-way only. And because this was a winter meet held in the evenings, it was dark and the direction signs were hard to see if you didn’t know where to look for them.

My friends and I had gotten a good place to park a few blocks from the auditorium. It was cheaper to park in, and easier to get in and out of – you just had to walk a few extra blocks. Most visitors, however, were looking to park in the multilevel garages closest to the auditorium. People were trying to turn left across lanes to get to entrances that could only be accessed by turning right going the other direction. People were trying to turn the wrong way onto one-way streets. And there were people jaywalking between the cars, trying to get in sooner to get the best places along the track to watch these elite athletes. There was a lot of congestion and confusion in the traffic, and no one seemed to be making much progress.

Even though we were also anxious to get in to find the best places to watch the meet, I asked my friends to wait for me, because there was something I had to do. Even as they were asking what could be more important than finding a good spot inside, I stepped out into traffic.

I did that because someone had to help sort out the congestion in the traffic. I started stopping one lane to let another through, and then switching to keep it from backing up too far. I helped direct persons to the right entrances for the parking lots. And after only a few minutes of doing this, the congestion was cleared out, the people coming to the meet were parked, and we still got in and found a good spot to watch the meet.

As we were entering, one of my friends asked what possessed me to step out into traffic. I could have been hit. I could have been run over. Or worse, I could have made us late for finding a good spot inside.

I wish I had had a better use of Biblical language back then, because what I told them was only partly true. I told them what I had heard at Boy Scouts, and in civics classes, and in other places where they try to teach you responsibility: If you are aware of a problem, then you are responsible for that problem. I saw a traffic snarl; I knew that with a little direction from someone willing to step out into traffic the problem could be fixed; I stepped out into the traffic and fixed it.

That’s not a bad reason for doing good, but it is not enough of a good reason. I say this because if being aware of a problem is a requirement for doing good, then one way to deal with problems is by becoming really good at not seeing problems. Traffic snarled? That’s not a problem – it is just the way things are. People hungry? – not that I am aware of. Kids being bullied? – it’s just part of growing up. Human trafficking? – I don't think so; we have already outlawed slavery.

If we are not aware of a problem, then we are not responsible for the problem. If we are not aware of the problem, there is no problem to be solved. If we are not aware of the problem, we are good to do whatever we want.

This is why educating people about problems is such an important part of what advocacy agencies do. If we know about their problem, we might be moved to help them fix it. For example, it would seem arbitrary and even unnecessary to send money to oil-rich Texas, but it seems like a really good thing to do when the state has been hit by a hurricane and is in need of relief. If we are aware of the problem, we become responsible for it.

This is also why so many people resist advocacy agencies. If we can discredit the agency, or their science, or their story, then we can ignore their problem, and we can ignore their solution for the problem. We can keep doing what seems good to us – and that can be its own problem.

I said I wish I had better use of Biblical language back then. Language is important because it is meaningful. What I really should have said was what Jesus said in telling his parable in our reading. What Jesus says in the parable is the difference between doing good and simply being a do-gooder. What Jesus said is the difference between seeing a problem and knowing what the problem really is. What Jesus said is the difference between having an answer to a problem and having the right answer to the right problem.

The first son in the parable wanted to do something else than what he was asked to do, something other than working in the vineyard, even though we are not told what it is. Let’s say he wanted to watch a track meet that was about to start, rather than prune back vine branches in order to increase the next year’s harvest. Or maybe he would rather watch people run in circles than walk up and down the rows of vines to harvest grapes before they fell to the ground or were eaten by the birds.

The son thinks the problem is the father asking him to do something other than what he wants to do. That's one way to look at the problem. The father might think the son is being ungrateful for not doing what the father asked him to do. That's another way to look at the problem. And the Pharisees might have thought the first son was bringing shame to his father, which is yet another way to look at the problem.

But then, Jesus said, the son changed his mind, and did what the father asked him to do. The first son saw the problem, and became responsible for the problem. The first son did his father's will.

That’s not a bad translation, but there is more in the original language than just the first son changing his mind. Instead, it might be a better translation to say that the first son changed what he cared about. Instead of caring more about the track meet than what his father needed him to do, he changed what he cared about. He cared more about doing his father’s will than he cared about doing his own will.

When I stepped into the street, I still wanted to see the track meet. But in that moment of becoming aware of the traffic snarl, I changed what I cared about. I cared about these other people, who also wanted to see the meet. I cared that they were frustrated by the snarl. And I cared that there wasn't anything they could do about it. But I knew that there was something I could do about it – even if I might miss part of the meet. And I remembered what I had learned in MYF, that Jesus still asks us, “Which son did the will of his father?”

To bring our Father God honor, we have to change what we care about. We have to change what we care about, if we want to untangle the snarls in our world. It is not enough to be do-gooders if we don't first and always care about doing the Father's will. It also isn't enough, as the second son shows us, to say “yes” to doing the Father's will if we don't then follow up and live as Christians. Or, as it was said at the Leadership Conference this past week, “If we are the Body of Christ, then we should act like Christ.”

Of course, the argument could be made that right now we have too many people stepping out into traffic. Sometimes, it seems like everyone feels qualified to analyze the problems of the world. It seems everyone knows exactly how to fix the problems. But when everyone is in the street trying to direct everyone else, the snarl just gets bigger.

It is not enough for us to want to do good, if the good we want is separated from the Father's will. It is the gospel truth that, unless we change what we care about, our reason for doing good may not be good at all. If we don’t change what we care about, to reflect what Jesus cares about, then we may be opposed to the will of God, even if we have some selective scriptures to prove that we are right.

Our conflicts come when we care more about being right, than about being righteous. Our dissension comes when we care more about winning than we care about sinning. Division comes when we care more about preserving our way of life than about living into the kingdom life.

And it isn't that we aren't supposed to care about being right and winning and preserving our way of life. To be disciples of Christ, however, we have to care more about the things of God, and doing the will of God, than we care about anything else.

What has become clear is that there are a lot of people who are sure that everyone else must accept their authority to tell us when to stop and when to go, and where we need to turn to get where we need to go, and when we are going the wrong way. But when there are too many people stepping out into the traffic, we could get hit. We could get run over. We could be sending people the wrong way. And this is a problem because it could mean that we will have a problem finding a good spot inside the kingdom of God.

When I direct traffic at Annual Conference each year, I have a big official-looking stop sign, and I am wearing a bright reflective safety vest. I look like I am supposed to be doing what I am doing when I stand in the street. Looking like you have authority helps people give you authority. But what are the signs we are to look for today, to help us know if someone has the authority to step out into the street, or if they are just someone adding to the problem?

Well, I believe all it takes is a little discernment. For most people, discernment is just the religious word for judgment. For these people, it means the same thing and it requires the same process.

Discernment, however, is fundamentally different from judgment. Judgment listens to the voice of what we believe to be unchanging truths. Discernment is learning to listen only for the voice of Jesus, who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. Judgment largely needs the other person, or the other side, to change what they care about before there can be justice. Discernment usually begins with changing what we care about, so that we can love the other as Jesus loves us.

Judgment is when what is good and what is evil is something we decide. Discernment is when we are humble enough to trust that God is working for good among us, even if we can't always see it. Judgment is often about nailing someone else to the cross. Discernment is only possible when we take up our cross.

One day, the Pharisees came to Jesus and questioned his understanding of good and evil. The Pharisees were convinced that they alone had the authority to decide good and evil. The Pharisees were convinced that by this authority, they could declare that Jesus was evil.

Jesus pointed out the fallacy of their position by asking about the authority of John the Baptist. How they understood the authority of a third, disinterested party to this argument would shed a light on how they understood their own authority. And what they came to realize, as we also must do, is that their foundation for making judgments on others is unsupportable.

This is when we need to change what we care about. Instead of caring about winning and losing, we can care about becoming one in Christ. Instead of caring about being right, we can care about true righteousness which leads to healing and reconciliation. Instead of caring about our will, we can care about doing our Father's will.

When we change what we care about, people won’t have to ask by what authority we are doing something. Our authority comes from doing the will of the Father, revealed as we live into the grace and love of Jesus Christ.

The choices really are that simple. Do we choose to do what we want because we want it, or do we choose to do the Father’s will? One choice leads to snarls and frustration, to dissension and division. The other choice leads to the one Body of Christ doing the will of the Father. May we consider our choice again, as we stand and sing.

UMH 620 “One Bread, One Body”