Sermon Text

This is not a difficult story for us to understand. We have all been children, and many of us have been parents, and we know what it's like to say you will do something, and then to fail to do it; or to refuse to do something, but on second thought, to decide to do it after all. And it's not a situation limited to the relationships between parents and children. It's a part of the fabric of all our lives. We know what it's like, from both sides.

There are a few things the story doesn't tell us. For one thing, we don't know why the first son refused his father's request to go and work in the field. It seems a reasonable enough request, on the face of it. But there may have been some strained relations between the father and the son. They may have just had an argument, and were both angry. The son may have refused to go out of defiant spitefulness. But, we have no way of knowing. All we know is that he first refused, then changed his mind and went to work in the fields anyway.

We have a better picture of the relationship of the second son to his father. He reminds me of Eddie Haskell. Do you remember Eddie Haskell? If you watched "Leave It to Beaver" on TV years ago (or if you're a devotee of one of those nostalgia stations), you may remember the teenage boy who was always so polite to the faces of the adults, but who was the essence of teenage rebellion when the parents weren't around. The second son in Jesus' story is like Eddie Haskell. He calls his father "Sir" when he agrees to go and work. Actually, the word is the same one that, when used in reference to Jesus, is translated Lord! He agrees to go, and then never does. We don't know if he really ever intended to go, or if he was just saying he would.
We can't fault the religious leaders too heavily in this exchange. It isn't that they never did the right thing, but only gave it lip service. They saw themselves as the righteous ones in their society. They did what they thought God wanted God’s people to do: they obeyed the law, lived righteous lives, kept isolated from those whom their society considered unclean. But in the midst of their piety, they made two serious omissions -- they failed to see their own need for God's freely given grace, and they denied it to others who failed to live up to their strict standards. They were blinded by their own commitment to obedience.

But the upshot of the whole thing, as Jesus tells the story, is which one finally did his father's will. The religious leaders gave the obvious answer, that the son who finally went to do the work, even though he had first refused, was the one who did the right thing. Actually, neither one of the sons is a great example. The ideal would be to agree to go and then follow through. But we all know that life, and our performance in it, is often less than ideal. Try as we might to make the right commitments and to follow through on them, we don't always make it. Sometimes we say "No" at the outset, and then have second thoughts; sometimes we agree to do something and then other things get in the way.

But I think that one of the things that the Christ is saying to us today has to do with promises. We recognize that promises, in and of themselves, can never take the place of performance. Good intentions are great, but we all know which road is paved with them. Fine words are never a substitute for fine deeds. Words can be cheap -- they can cost us nothing.

In recent times, "obedience" has become a bad word. It seems incompatible with good words like "independence," "individualism," and "freedom." But obedience is something we Christians cannot ignore, or sweep under the rug of individual freedom. There is a continuing tension between the freely offered grace of God and the demand that persons who accept that grace be faithful and obedient.
When people make a commitment to faith and life in Christ through this church, they make certain affirmations and promises. They affirm their acceptance of Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior, and their trust in him to tell them the truth about God and life. Then they promise to live as his disciples, obeying his word and showing his love. They promise to be faithful members of this particular congregation, and to recognize their need for the fellowship of Christ's people wherever they may be. It's true, these promises, like all the other promises in life, can be nothing more than words. Unless there is a deeper commitment, and some outward evidence of that deeper commitment, it's hard to say if discipleship is actually taking place. There must be something that happens in our hearts, as well as in our heads, for that commitment to take shape.

It's kind of like this -- "You haven't got it right," says Johnny's exasperated piano teacher. Johnny is holding his hands in just the way he's been told. His fingering is exceptional. He has memorized the piece perfectly. He has hit all the right notes with dreadful accuracy. But his heart's not in it -- just his fingers. What he's playing is music, certainly, but it will never start voices singing or feet tapping. The scribes and Pharisees were playing it “by the book.” They didn't slip up on a single Do or Don't. But they were getting it all wrong. Righteousness, the righteousness of the Kingdom, is getting it right. When you play it the way it's supposed to be played, there won't be a still foot or a dry eye in the house. "Getting it right" requires the commitment of more than just our words. It requires the commitment of our whole selves, loving God with heart, soul, mind, and strength.

What does it take to keep a promise alive? I've thought about that a lot this past week, and I've come to some at least preliminary conclusions. First of all, keeping a promise alive requires an underlying trust and confidence in the one who shares that promise with you. You don't feel much inclination to keep a promise to someone you don't even trust, someone you don't think would keep a promise to you.
Secondly, keeping a promise alive requires some ritual remembrances. Marriages have anniversaries, and some people even go through the restatement of their vows at some point. Many marriages have times when the promises need to be reviewed and expectations renegotiated. In the fellowship of the church, we are urged to remember our own baptisms every time someone new is baptized. When new members meet with the Session, and affirm the promises I mentioned a few moments ago, we Session members hear those promises again and renew our own commitment to them.

Thirdly, our promises need a strong tie to our hope for the future. In a few weeks, we will all have the chance to look to the future of our church and to make some promises – our Time & Talent Commitments and our financial pledges to the annual operating budget and the three-year Fulfill the Vision Together Capital Campaign. As we prepare ourselves to make those promises, it is important that we be in prayer, individually and together, asking God what God would have us do with our promises and commitments. You’ll be hearing more about this prayerful effort in the weeks to come.

Finally, every promise needs some joyous experience to stay alive. Marriages need vacations, and quiet evenings of conversation, and playing in the yard with the kids or the grandkids, and the comfort of companionship. For the church, I am convinced that worship is the setting in which the promises of God and our own promises are nurtured, remembered, and experienced anew, and from which we are sent out to be the bearers of promises in the world.

We are a people to whom promises have been made, and who make promises. Joyously remembering and faithfully keeping them is a part of our discipleship.