I’m Coming!  Are You Really?

            Among my many bad habits is one that is starting to come back and bite me.  When someone calls me to do something, I have a habit of saying, “I’m coming!” and then I continue on with what I’m doing for a few more minutes.[1]  Or I say, “Just a minute!” when what I really mean is, “…just 10 more minutes please.”  I’ve got the right words, but the words and the actions aren’t always in step. 

            Some of you know already how this is coming back to bite me.  There are two wonderful, beautiful, and charming little ones at the parsonage who have picked up on this habit.  When I call them for supper, I sometimes hear, “I’m coming!” but no one’s moving from their rooms.  When it’s time to go out the door I hear, “Just a minute!” and we’re sometimes late.  Isn’t it amazing how we learn these things from one another?

            Do you ever use this tactic with others?  Does “I’m coming,” mean you are on your way or something else?  Is “Just a minute!” really a minute or more like ½ an hour?  How many times does someone have to call to get you moving in some areas of life: setting the table, doing your homework, going to bed, leaving for church, or completing the ‘honey-do’ list?  What if the Fire Department got into this habit where you needed to call three, four, or five times before they actually showed up?

            As I’ve thought about my own bad habit of doing this – where my words don’t always mesh with my actions – I’ve begun to ask myself, “Do I do this with God too?”  When God asks me to serve do I say, “Just a minute, God,” and the minute becomes a day, then a week, then a month, then a year, and then …  You get the idea don’t you?

            Our text today is quite straightforward.  The religious leaders are probing for reasons to justify killing Jesus and Jesus responds to their traps in traditional rabbinic fashion – he answers their questions with questions.  At the beginning of the text, they ask, “By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?”  We all know, as readers of Matthew’s gospel that Jesus said earlier, “All things have been handed over to me by my Father.”[2]  God has given authority to him.  But here, Jesus refuses to play their little game.  Instead of answering, he tells them a parable that incensed them.

            A father had two sons.  He told them both to go out and work in the field.  One of the boys says, “Take a hike, dad!  I’m not going.” But then later he changes his mind and goes out to work.  The other boy says, “Oh, yes, wise and great father.  Of course I’ll go out to the field!  By the way, are you working out because you’re sure looking trim and fit these days?”  And then this second son, even though he said he was going, didn’t.  Did he say, “Just a minute dad.  I’m coming!”?  And then he stayed lying on the couch playing with his Play Station 2.

            Jesus asked the critics, “Which boy pleased his dad more?”  It was an easy answer for them just as it is for us.  The first son, who said he wasn’t going, but then did, pleased his dad more.  In the end, it wasn’t so much what the boys said, but what they did that mattered. 

            If Jesus would have ended this little story in the middle of verse 31, he might have been better off but he then goes on to tell the religious leaders which brother they were.  They were the second brother who said all the right things, believed all the right things, but didn’t do what God asked them to do.  Their words and their actions didn’t match up.  Their faith was never evident on the pages of their lives.

            Now this kind of talk about ‘doing’ always makes me a little nervous because people can get the wrong impression about being a disciple of Jesus.  We can easily fall into the trap of believing, “If I just do enough good stuff, then God will like me.”  Works righteousness is a dangerous trap.  But so is just talking about our faith and not backing it up with action.  People who are newer to the faith than we are might see us doing it, and then they may think that’s what a disciple of Jesus does: say one thing, but do another.

            Today we come to the Lord’s Table.  Listen again to Matthew’s account of this event.  (Read Matthew 26:26-30)  During communion, we don’t often read the verses that come right after verse 30.  We like to end things with, “When they had sung the hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives.”  That’s the high ground for us.  But listen some more.  (Read Matthew 26:31-35)  Peter was determined that he would never betray Jesus.  So did the others.  But these words of faithfulness and their actions on Good Friday didn’t jive.  It’s as if they were saying, “I’m coming Jesus!  I’ll be there in a minute!” as they scurried into their holes of shame.  I shouldn’t be so hard on the disciples.  I’d probably do the same thing…and I still do the same thing.

           

 



[1] The idea for this sermon came from an article I read in Awaken, Pentecost 2 2005, Year A, Volume 1, Number 2, p. 17.  I’ve also used some of the exegesis that I did from a sermon delivered on September 29, 2002, entitled, “The Saddam In All of Us.”

[2] See Matthew 11:27.