October 5, 2008
(Twenty-first Sunday after Pentecost; Proper 22)
Cultivated to Perfection
By The Very Rev. Terry White, Dean
Isaiah 5:1-7 • Psalm 80: 7-14
• Philippians 3:4b-14 •
Matthew 21:33-46
(From
The Lectionary Page)
The next time you are in a restaurant, take a good look at the menu. If the menu has a bit of narrative describing each entree, notice how many times the menu uses the phrase: cooked to perfection.
A wonderful establishment on the Plaza proclaims that the Zagat Survey describes our steaks as “rich, juicy...cooked to perfection.”
A Virginia bakery called Baked Perfection features pictures on a web site that support their lofty claim.
And an establishment featuring gourmet wild game offers the following item: Lightly spiced marinated Raccoon Tenders, cooked to perfection in a Savory BBQ Sauce.
I believe this begs the question: How exactly does one know when raccoon tenders have been cooked to perfection?
Commenting on our lessons this morning, Laura Magers Miller writes: "I have never planted a perfect vineyard, but I have baked an almost perfect homemade pizza pie. I mixed and kneaded the dough. I peeled and seeded the homegrown tomatoes. I grated three kinds of cheese. When I took my almost perfect pizza out of the oven, it looked and smelled just wonderful. For at least three or four minutes all was right with the world and I reveled in my creation.
“Perhaps you have had a similar moment of such satisfaction. The owner of the vineyard described in these lessons was similarly pleased with what was produced.
“But the time came for the owner to turn the picture-perfect vineyard over to a bunch of less-than-perfect tenants. The time also came for me to turn my perfect pizza over to a couple of ten-year-olds, who pronounced my creation a poor substitute for Dominos Pizza, while stripping my creation of its fresh tomatoes, mushrooms, and green peppers. They then mangled my perfect crust and delicate cheeses, turning it into a disgusting ball of cheese and goo. The picture-perfect creation I had carefully planned and built was destroyed in less than seven minutes. My labor, like that of the vineyard’s owner, did not yield the fruits that I had anticipated.” (quoted and edited from Sermons That Work, Proper 22 Year A, 1999.)
Today’s readings ask: What are you and I doing with what God has given us? This question emerges from two of our lessons, each employing the metaphor of the picture-perfect vineyard.
The prophet Isaiah writes, "My beloved had a vineyard on a very fertile hill. He plowed it and cleared it of stones, and planted it with choice vines."
A vineyard was then, and is now, a great deal of work. Cultivated grapevines must be carefully pruned and trained to grow in a position that makes the grapes accessible to those who will gather them. In contrast, wild grapes are very difficult to harvest, much smaller and usually of lesser quality than those grown in a well cared for vineyard.
Cultivated vines are tender and delicious, and thus, not easy to protect from a number of creatures looking for food. A vineyard demands not only extensive preparation, but constant vigilance. And the picture-perfect vineyard demands a supreme effort.
Jesus uses such a vineyard as the setting for a parable describing God’s great love for us. And like all of Our Lord’s parables, there is a central point that teaches a tough lesson. (Sermons That Work, Proper 22 Year A, 1999.)
Herbert O’Driscoll writes, "This parable is about judgment. Jesus calls us to assess the fruits of our faith and that of the Church: its role in contemporary society, its presence in each one of us, and the witness of faith we give." (The Word Today Year A.) The question is: What are we doing with the love God has entrusted to us? What fruit is being produced?
According to the prophet Isaiah, God’s love song for his vineyard was meant to evoke and empower justice and righteousness, the grapes of God’s beloved vineyard. Thus, when the vineyard falls into disrepair, the fruit which God expects cannot be found. Instead, the wild vines—you and I—only produce puny, wild grapes. Such poor quality produce breaks the heart of God. God’s disappointment cannot be hid, and God’s plaintiff cry goes up: "What more could I have done for this vineyard?" (New Proclamation Series A, 1999)
I contrast God’s cry with my own prayers in times of illness, violence, and great anxiety, when I cry out, "Why aren’t you doing more, Lord? Are you deaf? Are you absent, not paying attention?" But these lessons today unveil my error: for what I accuse God of not doing, is what I am guilty of not doing myself.
And so I must confront some difficult realities. How often do I tend to the vines? Why do I squander the good fruit God has given me? Why did I let God’s love fall into disrepair in the first place? And more to the point: What is holding me back from the hard work of restoring the vineyard, in order for the expected fruits of justice and righteousness to grow plentifully again?
You and I take pride in restoring once beautiful things to their original grandeur, from gardens, to vintage automobiles, to furniture and homes. Such beauty inspires us, gives us a sense of accomplishment and purpose, and serves as a testimony to the fact that we are willing to spare no expense or amount of work in order to restore such beauty, power, strength, and fruit to our lives.
In terms of our faith, we are called to be just as committed, vigilant, and generous. We are to be grateful for love so deep, so broad, so high. When our efforts lead us to a sense of gratitude, then we have truly invested our time, talents, and money wisely. If gratitude is not a byproduct of how we are living, it is time to make some changes.
The perfect pizza is evidently in the eye of the beholder. But the perfection that is the glory of God, divine justice, righteousness, compassion, and peace is undeniably recognizable to everyone and to all creation. Rather than cover up our tendency to squander God’s gifts, rather than making excuses for what others have done or haven’t done, and rather than turn a blind eye to the over-grown vineyard—let us be about restoration. For as we restore God’s vineyard, we do nothing less than restore ourselves.
