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Matthew 21.33-40
“Listen to another parable. There was a landowner who planted a vineyard, put a fence around it, dug a wine press in it, and built a watchtower. Then he leased it to tenants and went to another country. When the harvest time had come, he sent his slaves to the tenants to collect his produce. But the tenants seized his slaves and beat one, killed another, and stoned another. Again he sent other slaves, more than the first; and they treated them in the same way. Finally he sent his son to them, saying, ‘They will respect my son.’ But when the tenants saw the son, they said to themselves, ‘This is the heir; come, let us kill him and get his inheritance.’ So they seized him, threw him out of the vineyard, and killed him. Now when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?”
Well, woof. Right? I read that and my initial thought was “Who do I identify with? I mean clearly it’s the tenants and who wants to do that?“ So I put it away... ish. I went on some walks with it. And somehow the watchtower image led me to “Dear Refuge of My Weary Soul” and I had a great wandering moment of worship that seemed somewhat avoidant and off topic for the assignment but was great for my soul. But I came back to it the night before I was supposed to turn in this little reflection and immediately thought “surely there’s another way to... nope... just nope”. And so then you know I put it away again and sent an email where I confessed that I had had some busy days and would be late. But here we are and the time has come to just. Do the thing.
“The harvest is plenty and the workers are few.” Hadn’t I done the thing... hadn’t I been faithful? And when God arrived or sent messengers I had surely listened? And the answer is sure. Mostly... in large matters.
I spent my twenties planting churches with my friends, read all the right books, believed all the right things, and honestly had beautiful and meaningful encounters with God that changed my life and changed the lives of those around me. I would never negate that. God moved so mightily in our midst. But I can now see the small moments where I missed Jesus... where I was too busy “tilling” the soil of the earth God gave me to see that God had sent the son. And these are probably moments where I needed Jesus the most. They were quiet moments where I needed to hear that nothing could separate from the love of God, not even the expectations of my brothers and sisters in Christ. Or really anything... and yes I’m aware that the tenants are a little more rough and tumble than that and yes it’s prophetic moment for the world about the coming violence Jesus will experience.
But frequently I can see the places where I ignore Jesus and in some ways that is its own violence. Where I don’t take the correction of receiving his love. A correction my life needs... and if this is a parable about God’s sending love and correction and the propensity to ignore/rebel/insert any word for what you do in the face of that, then this is where I land. It’s a helpful reminder —I guess— even if the parable gives me the “woof” feeling and I walk around for a week-plus avoiding it. It’s a helpful reminder to remember to pause and listen and see what God is actually trying to say. Maybe it is a “keep tilling” or maybe it’s a “put it down. And let’s take a walk.” Who knows?