The 8th Sunday after Pentecost: A Sermon

Readings (Track 1) (Psalm 139 in its entirety appears at the end of the sermon.)

If you’re feeling some whiplash after today’s combination of readings it means you’ve been paying attention. At first glance they go in different directions—so let’s attend to them separately. (And please keep your BCP open to Ps 139 on pp.794-795.)

Genesis. Last week we watched Jacob get Esau’s birthright in exchange for a serving of stew. Since then, that strange scene (equal parts farce and tragedy) in which Jacob, dressed up to smell and feel like Esau, tricks his blind father Isaac into giving him Esau’s blessing. Since then, all Esau’s fantasies have focused on ways to kill Jacob, so Jacob’s been sent off to the relatives until Esau’s anger cools. And in all this God has said nothing to Jacob.

Doubtless, Esau would have had plenty of suggestions as to what God might do/say. “Oh, that you would slay the wicked, O God!” (v.18 in today’s psalm). What God does say: a reiteration of the promises made to Abraham and Isaac, and “Know that I am with you and will keep you wherever you go, and will bring you back to this land; for I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.”

In short: “I love you; I have plans for you; I look forward to what we can do together.” I think Scripture as a whole encourages us to hear this as God’s address to each one of us. You might want to take today’s lessons home and reflect on God’s words to Jacob during the week. Imagine God expressing that love to you. In today’s psalm (v.13): “I will thank you because I am marvelously made; / your works are wonderful, and I know it well.” Texts like today’s Genesis reading help us believe that.

We let the Genesis reading run a bit farther than the Lectionary assigned to hear the rest of Jacob’s reaction. It’s pure Jacob, that Jacob that’s part of many of us. God’s promise is too general: Jacob wants it nailed down: “If God will be with me, and will keep me in this way that I go, and will give me bread to eat and clothing to wear, so that I come again to my father’s house in peace, then…” This distrust doesn’t serve Jacob well, but it’s part of the package, part of the package that God—unsurprised—is dealing with. “Lord, you have searched me out, and known me” applies also to Jacob. And perhaps Jacob’s distrust is  part of the futility that Paul talks about that we bring to the table.

Romans. There’s a lot we could notice here; for today I’m focusing on futility. ‘Futility’: Paul uses the word the Greek translation used for the hebel ‘vanity’ that the preacher wrestles with throughout the book of Ecclesiastes. Paul describes it—in passing—as being God’s choice. If asked to explain, I think Paul would say that faced with human disobedience and valuing human freedom, God chooses to let the history play out, including the effects of these disobedient choices, a divine choice that admittedly brings significant pain. “The woman whom you gave to be with me, she gave me fruit from the tree, and I ate” (Gen. 3:12) says Adam, and so sets the stage for patriarchy. And, since—as the ecologists keep reminding us—everything is connected to everything—human choices damage all creation, so that, as Paul puts it “the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now.” So an important take-away: if groaning is part of our present experience, it’s not because we lack faith, or have hit a particularly rough patch (although these things could also be true), but because that’s an appropriate response to our situation, a situation survivable, as Paul reminds us, only by hope.

Matthew. Two weeks ago we hit the question: if Jesus is “the one who is to come” (John the Baptist’s words), why isn’t there more visible progress? And we heard Jesus’ answer: the “wise” and “intelligent” wouldn’t see the Kingdom if it was right in front of them; come to me (all of you!) and I will give you rest. But, since it’s not a simple question, we heard another answer last week: even the divine word is at once powerful and vulnerable: the soil really matters. So “Let anyone with ears listen!”

And because it’s not a simple question, we hear another answer in today’s reading: the Son of Man isn’t the only one sowing seed. (This is probably another dimension of the futility Paul mentions!) Perhaps the clearest echo of this parable is in our baptismal rite:

Do you renounce Satan and all the spiritual forces of wickedness that rebel against God?
I renounce them.
Do you renounce the evil powers of this world which corrupt and destroy the creatures of God?
I renounce them. (BCP 302)

As soil, we need to choose which seed to welcome, and keep choosing.

Equally relevant is the interchange within the parable:

Then do you want us to go and gather them?
No; for in gathering the weeds you would uproot the wheat along with them.

As other New Testament texts show, in some circumstances “Let both of them grow together” is not the end of the conversation. But it’s a standing warning that attempts to separate weeds and wheat bring their own dangers. Recall Joseph McCarthy and the red scare in the 50s or the church splits over women’s ordination and sexuality. It’s relevant on the personal level. Star Trek TNG fans may recall the episode “The Tapestry.” Captain Picard’s artificial heart is failing. He has an artificial heart because of an impetuous decision in his youth. The character named “Q” gives him the chance to go back in time and make a different decision. But as a result of the different decision he turns out to be a colorless ensign quite unfit for any command. Wheat and weeds: not always so easy to distinguish.

Psalm 139 (BCP 794-795). The psalms are tools for both prayer and reflection. Prayer: there are circumstances in which what’s in our hearts can only be expressed by verses like 18-21. (Wheat and weeds: if “the evil powers of this world which corrupt and destroy the creatures of God” don’t move me to anger, something else is wrong.) So the verses are there—but precariously. Reflection: Jesus’ example (“Come to me, all you…”) warns me that the “restless thoughts” (v.22) and “wickedness” (v.23) might relate to vv.18-21 in uncomfortable ways. And both vv.18-21 and 22-23 can work pastorally: vv.18-21 to guard against assuming I’m so “advanced” that these would never cross my lips, vv.22-23 to guard against getting stuck in vv.18-21.

How do we wrap this up? Maybe like this. Let’s read v.13 together: “I will thank you because I am marvelously made; / your works are wonderful, and I know it well.” That points to our past and present. At the end of today’s Gospel: “Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. Let anyone with ears listen!” That’s the future God desires for each of us. So, indeed, “Let anyone with ears listen!”

Psalm 139 (Book of Common Prayer 794-795)

1 Lord, you have searched me out and known me; * you know my sitting down and my rising up; you discern my thoughts from afar.

2 You trace my journeys and my resting-places * and are acquainted with all my ways.

3 Indeed, there is not a word on my lips, * but you, O Lord, know it altogether.

4 You press upon me behind and before * and lay your hand upon me.

5 Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; * it is so high that I cannot attain to it.

6 Where can I go then from your Spirit? * where can I flee from your presence?

7 If I climb up to heaven, you are there; * if I make the grave my bed, you are there also.

8 If I take the wings of the morning * and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,

9 Even there your hand will lead me * and your right hand hold me fast.

10 If I say, “Surely the darkness will cover me, * and the light around me turn to night,”

11 Darkness is not dark to you;the night is as bright as the day; * darkness and light to you are both alike.

12 For you yourself created my inmost parts; * you knit me together in my mother’s womb.

13 I will thank you because I am marvelously made; * your works are wonderful, and I know it well.

14 My body was not hidden from you, * while I was being made in secret and woven in the depths of the earth.

15vYour eyes beheld my limbs, yet unfinished in the womb; all of them were written in your book; * they were fashioned day by day, when as yet there was none of them.

16 How deep I find your thoughts, O God! * how great is the sum of them!

17 If I were to count them, they would be more in number than the sand; * to count them all, my life span would need to be like yours.

18 Oh, that you would slay the wicked, O God! * You that thirst for blood, depart from me.

19 They speak despitefully against you; * your enemies take your Name in vain.

20 Do I not hate those, O Lord, who hate you? * and do I not loathe those who rise up against you?

21 I hate them with a perfect hatred; * they have become my own enemies.

22 Search me out, O God, and know my heart; * try me and know my restless thoughts.

23 Look well whether there be any wickedness in me * and lead me in the way that is everlasting.

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