Notes for Reflection

October 5                               NOTES FOR REFLECTION

Texts: Isaiah 5:1-7; Philippians 3:4b-14; Matthew 21:33-46

Theme: A range of possibilities seem open to us this week.  The safest option might be "All is Gift", particularly if you want to give some emphasis to our first lesson.  A more creative option might be "The Ownership of God" – there's nothing like ambiguity to get the reflective juices flowing.  And then there's St Paul with his extraordinary gift for timing.  Last week he urged Labour Party leaders (and others, of course!) to do "nothing from selfish ambition or conceit": this week he is urging the Diocese (and others, of course!) to forget what lies behind and strain forward to what lies ahead".  Either lesson might offer an easier path than the gospel passage.  But if you are feeling courageous (or you are about to retire from stipended ministry and have nothing to lose) you might want to pose the question "Is He Talking to Us?"

Introduction.  We begin with Isaiah's Song of the Vineyard, which recognises God as the creator and owner of all things, and in particular of the people of Israel.  But its real message is that God is not just the name on the title deeds, as it were: God is an owner motivated by love, who has done everything possible for the good of the land and its occupiers.  What more could God have done?  That is the challenge thrown down by this passage.  But gratitude for all that God has done does not mean there is nothing else to hope for or strive towards in the spiritual life.  On the contrary, St Paul's theme song for this week is that old classic "Keep right on to the end of the road."  We finish with yet another hard-hitting and frighteningly clear judgment parable.  We are, after all, in Matthew's narrative squarely in Holy Week.  The judgment of the Cross awaits: it is time to take sides.

Background.  There has been so much to ponder this week.  In New York the focus has been on the UN Climate Summit, preceded by the extraordinary announcement by the Rockefeller Foundation that it was divesting itself of all investments in fossil fuel industries and putting its money into renewable energy resources.  In Hong Kong hundreds and thousands of people were demonstrating in support of their demands for greater political freedom.  And in Dunedin one student graced the front page of the ODT to complain that the University was denying residents in its halls of residence internet access to pornography sites.  The contrast between those who seek the good of all and those who are focused solely on themselves could hardly have been illustrated more graphically.

Two men in particular have informed my reflections this week, one famous, the other not so much.  The lesser known man is Stewart Bell, an Australian mine safety expert who was a member of the Royal Commission of Inquiry into the Pike River Mine disaster.  At the heart of the problem, he said, was a lack of values.  One aspect of this was "a production before safety culture", which was "insufficiently challenged" by those who should have challenged it.  Given the sensitivity of the issues Mr Bell was very restrained and careful in what he said, and did not spell it out in detail.  So I'll do it for him.  When we have a community that believes that all mining companies are good and all environmentalist organisations are interfering outsiders; when we have a Government that believes all regulatory supervision in an unnecessary cost burden imposed on industry by a Nanny State; when we have a workforce who, for whatever reason, believe in jobs for the sake of jobs, however dangerous to them and whatever the product of their labour may be, a culture of profits before safety is always going to arise.

The second and more famous person I have been paying attention to this week is Archbishop Desmond Tutu whose contribution to the ongoing debate on climate change was published in the ODT World Focus on Monday, and was full of his deep wisdom.  Truly this man is a prophet for our age.  His opening sentence could not have been clearer: Never before in history have all human beings been called on to act collectively in defence of the earth.  Wonderful stuff – and I particularly warmed to his word "collectively".  He's not afraid of that word: for him it's not a word that should be associated with Communism; it's a word that should be at the heart of our faith.  He addresses his fellow human beings as "responsible citizens of the earth – sisters and brothers of one family, the human family, God's family"; and goes on to tell us that "we have a duty to persuade our leaders to lead us in a new direction".  And that responsibility, he says in conclusion, "began in the genesis of humanity, when God commanded the earliest human inhabitants of the Garden of Eden 'to till it and keep it'. To 'Keep it'; not to abuse it, not make as much money as possible from it, not to destroy it."  Amen, Archbishop Desmond, amen.

And let's be clear about one thing.  The Bible uses the language of sin and judgment: it warns of God's wrath and determination to punish.  Climate scientists use a different language of cause and effect: they talk of the inevitable consequences of our present (and past) actions.  The Bible calls for repentance; scientists call for a radical change of policy.  The language is different, but the message is the same.  Archbishop Desmond writes: As a matter of urgency we must begin a global transition to a new safe energy economy.  This requires fundamentally rethinking our economic systems, to put them on a sustainable and more equitable footing.  That's collective repentance in any language.

The imagery used in this week's passage from Isaiah should strike a particular chord in rural New Zealand.  The back-breaking work of settlement, clearing the land, developing it, fencing it, planting shelter belts, perhaps the need for drainage works and so on; all that is hard enough, but bearable if the end result is productive farmland.  But such happy endings are never guaranteed.  Adverse weather, rabbit or other pest infestation, falling prices and rising costs – sometimes there comes a time when there is no alternative but to walk off the land, and let it all revert to the wild.  That's what God is threatening to do in this passage.  But here this is not the outcome of sheer bad luck, of a heroic struggle against overwhelming odds.  As the rest of this chapter makes clear, those whose job it was to work the land have failed miserably.  They have brought the pending disaster upon themselves and the land.  They have made poor choices, driven by greed and selfishness.

The Parable of the Wicked Tenants, taken literally, doesn't make a lot of sense.  Just how the tenants thought that if they could knock off the owner's son they would inherit the land is not explained.  But as a parable of the way in which, in our desire for short-term gains, we prefer to ignore all warning signs and those who try to warn us – how we prefer to shoot the messenger rather than heed the message – and how we are all too ready to assume that the day of reckoning is sufficiently far in the future as to be safely ignored in the meantime – the parable is surely spot on.  If we are given 24-hours warning of a 1-in-100 years storm, we will heed the warning and do whatever we can to mitigate the threat.  But a warning that such storms will become annual events within the lifetime of our grandchildren unless we start taking action now?   Hey, lighten up – tomorrow's another day!

Or, in the other language, judgment tomorrow means repentance right now; judgment sometime in the (possibly distant) future -  maybe I'll take my chances for a little longer.

Isaiah.  Any farmer or gardener can relate to this passage.  A late frost, a rogue wind, roving possums or rabbits, and we're back to square one.  Or perhaps the crops start to wilt, and soil tests show high levels of some toxic element or infection.  All your hard work has been to no avail.  What's the point?  Might as well let it go, and find a hobby that doesn't cause you so much upset.  But if you really love the place, that's a hard thing to do.

Taking It Personally.

• Notice that this passage is more an ode to the dedicated work of the vineyard owner than to the beauty of the vineyard itself.  Take some time to reflect on God's creative work, rather than on the beauty of creation.  Offer prayers of praise and thanksgiving.
• What sort of grapes are you producing in your spiritual life?
• How careful are you in your treatment of the environment?  Archbishop Desmond wants faith communities to "speak out on the issue from their pulpits".  Does yours?  Do you agree that this issue is rightly considered a spiritual issue, or should it be left to politicians to sort out?

 

Philippians.  St Paul has all the approved religious badges, by birth and by personal endeavour.  We might say we have been brought up in the church, baptised, confirmed and married in the church – can't remember a Sunday when we didn't go to church – on Vestry for years – read the bible daily – perhaps even got a theology degree.  All well and good, says St Paul, but none of that is worth a tin of fish unless we have a personal relationship with Christ.  And like any relationship, that's an ongoing process, not a one-off event.  Based on the past, enjoyed in the present, and developed into the future.

 

Taking It Personally.

 

• How would you summarise your "faith credentials"?
• Spend some time reflecting on verse 10.  Unpack it.  What does it mean for you?
• What are some of the things in the past that you might need to "forget" (verse 13)?  In what way are you "straining forward", and to what?

 

Matthew.  This is a rather laboured parable, leading some scholars to believe that it was "worked up" from an earlier version to serve a later purpose – namely, for the Church to claim that it is now the successor to the people of Israel.  Certainly, the apparent emphasis on the expulsion of the first tenants and their replacement with a second batch seems a little obvious.  There is surely more to this parable than that.  It deals with themes like forgetting the goodness of God, being unwilling to give to others, selfishness and greed.  Perhaps even the relationship between hoarding and violence: no one is going to take anything of mine, and I will protect it with all means at my disposal.  Quite possibly, it is yet another variation on the theme of the closeness or distance of God.  When we're in need we might wonder where God is; but when we want to do our own thing we might begin by convincing ourselves that God is at a safe distance.

 

Taking It Personally.

 

• What sort of image of God do you get from verse 3?  God as developer and absentee landlord?  How does that appeal?
• Presumably we are to assume a "share-cropping" arrangement.  The tenants have tended the vines and harvested the crops.  But they refuse to give the owner his share.  Are you always ready to give God his share?
• Reflect on the offertory verse: "All that is in the heavens and the earth is yours and of your own we give you."  Does that give you a deeper understanding of this parable?
• When you give to the church, are you giving some of your money to God, or are you giving some of God's money back to God?
• Read verse 45.  When you hear these and similar parables, do you realise that he is talking about you?
• Is there any particular parable that has directly influenced you in any specific way?