Community Church Sermons
Year C
August 18, 2013
Thirteenth
Sunday after Pentecost
Sweet Wine
Isaiah 5:1-7
Rev. Rhonda A. Blevins
Associate
Pastor
Can you picture the scene in your mind? The skilled winemaker standing on top of his newly acquired land, a
rich and fertile land on a beautiful hillside, dreaming about the vineyard that
would one day grow there. “Surely it will yield the choicest fruits,” he
imagined. “My wines will warm and delight the masses.” Keeping the dreams of
his beautiful vineyard ever before him, he took up his shovel and began to dig,
clearing the land of stone and thistle. Days, weeks, maybe even months of
digging and clearing, digging and clearing—until his hands became raw and
bloody and his back ached from his labor. Then finally the land was ready for
planting. He cut out rows along the hillside. He purchased the choicest of
vines (which came at no small price). He planted the vines in the fertile soil.
He built a watchtower in the middle to protect his beloved vineyard from animals
and thieves. He cut out a winepress—his dream was about to become reality. And
when the time was just right, he harvested the grapes, placed them in the
winepress and gently pressed the grapes into the juice that would become his
glorious wine. He separated out the sediment, added the yeast, placed his new wine in the vat for fermentation. Then he
waited patiently for the sweet elixir to age. When finally the wine was ready,
he once again separated out the sediment, chilled the wine for clarity—the wine
was ready! After back-breaking months of labor and tending, the winemaker would
finally enjoy the fruits of his labor!
(Pull out a glass of wine, sniff, inspect, say
“cheers!,” take a sip, spew it out.)
“Yuck! It’s repulsive!
What went wrong? What more could I have done? Why did it turn out like this?”
The winemaker was disappointed beyond
disappointment. In fact, he was devastated. His great expectations were met
with great disappointment.
Have you ever been disappointed? I imagine most
of us have been at some point or another.
There’s a story of a young man who was learning to
parachute—he was getting ready for his first solo jump. As the plane approached
the landing zone, his instructor barked out some orders: 1) Jump when you are
told to jump, 2) Count to ten, then pull the rip cord, 3) If the first chute
doesn’t open, pull the second rip cord, 4) When you land a truck will take you
back to the post. The young man jumped when it was his turn. He counted to ten,
then pulled the rip cord. Nothing.
He pulled the second rip cord. Nothing. “Oh great,” he
complained to himself. “I’ll be the truck won’t be waiting for me either.”
We’ve all been disappointed at some point in our lives.
·
Maybe
you’ve been the kid who practiced every day for weeks on end, drill after
drill, practice after practice, only to find your name
missing from the team roster.
·
Maybe
you’ve been the employee who spent years busting your
can, giving everything you had to your company, only to be rewarded with a pink
slip one day.
·
Maybe
you’ve been the patient, who after receiving the diagnosis, tried every course
of treatment. . .every pill, every injection, every
therapy appointment. . .only to realize that none of it worked.
·
Maybe
you’ve been the parent who loved, taught, corrected, trained—who poured 18-plus
years into a kid who rejected all your hard work and
basically threw his life away.
Everyone gets disappointed. Our great
expectations are sometimes met with great disappointment. God gets disappointed
too, you know. God’s great expectations are sometimes met with great
disappointment as well. So this begs the question, “What does God expect?”
For the answer to that, let’s go back to our
scripture text. Twice in the first seven verses of Isaiah 5, God states exactly
what he expected from the vineyard he planted, “I looked for a crop of good grapes,” says the Lord, “but it yielded
only bad fruit.” And in case the readers and hearers of this passage are
too dull to pick up on nuance, God spells it out. “The vineyard of the Lord Almighty is the nation of Israel, and the people of Judah are
the vines he delighted in. And he looked for justice, but saw
bloodshed; for righteousness, but heard
cries of distress.” God expected justice and righteousness from His people . . .
but all He got was bloodshed and distress. The King James Version says that all
He got was oppression and a cry.
Whenever you hear the word “justice” in the Bible
it just about always refers to how the privileged of society treats the
marginalized. Whenever you hear the word “righteousness” in the Bible it just
about always refers to the notion of living in right relationship with God,
with others, and with creation itself. These people, the people of Judah, were
squandering the good gifts God had planted in them. Their fruits were fruits of
oppression and injustice. They took the good gifts God had planted in them and
went their own way. Their fruit was rotten. Their
wine—bitter.
Have you ever
thought about the fact that you were planted by God for a purpose? God has
great expectations for each of us. His expectations are that we would yield the
good fruits of justice and righteousness. For those of us blessed beyond
measure, for those of us who don’t want for food in our bellies or roofs over
our heads, this passage is more than
a little challenging. David Garber, Old Testament professor at the McAfee
School of Theology (where I’m currently attending), asks a powerful question as
he reflects on this passage: “Are we using our privilege to produce the sweet
wine of justice in our society? Or does our propensity to cower behind
privilege result in the stench of injustice that will ultimately repulse the God whom we claim to
worship?” [1]
Think back to the
winemaker, tasting the bitter wine. “Yuck! It’s repulsive!
What went wrong? What more could I have done? Why did it turn out like this?”
Let us hope that
our bottles never hold the bitter wine of oppression and injustice!
So what, in
today’s terminology, disappoints God? There are some instances of injustice and
oppression that are pretty easy to spot—the active sins of commission—like ones
making the headlines of late: police brutality against unarmed suspects,
sexually harassing a military rape victim, Christians and others being attacked
by a violent minority in Egypt. These disappointments to God are easy to spot.
It’s the more subtle passive sins—the sins of omission—that can get you and me
at odds with the Divine One. We sit by and watch the news without ever
wondering what God might want us to do on behalf of the marginalized. We change
the channel when the commercial comes on about the starving kids in Africa. We
pass by the panhandler on the street without thinking deeply about poverty and
homelessness in our own community. I know I’m guilty of this. How about you?
So what happens
when God is disappointed? Let’s look again at the passage about the vineyard
owner. Warning: this is the difficult part of the story. God says: “I will take away its hedge, and it will be destroyed;
I will break down its wall, and it will be
trampled. I will make it a wasteland, neither pruned nor
cultivated, and briers and thorns will grow there. I will
command the clouds not to rain on it.”
Wow. Now,
I’m not one who
believes in a vindictive God (I gave up on that theology a long time ago), but
I do believe in a God of consequences. If we don’t live up to God’s expectations
of altruism and helping others, then there are some natural, logical
consequences. Take this study I read about recently:
“In a study of 423 older couples, University
of Michigan researchers found that those who reported providing no help to others
were more than twice as likely to die during the five-year study period than
those who reported helping others.” [2] Natural,
logical consequences. You know what I find to be the most amazing part about
that study? The fact that they were able to find 423 older couples in Michigan!
The moral of the story—the point of today’s
parable—is this: don’t disappoint God.
We talked a
moment ago about times in our lives when we’ve been disappointed. But perhaps
even more difficult than being
disappointed is realizing that you have disappointed.
You let a friend or loved one down. You didn’t do what you said you would do. It’s
difficult load to bear—knowing that we have disappointed others and we’ll
probably continue to do so.
But there’s
something that can keep us centered even in the midst of that revelation. Yes, we will disappoint other people, but
we must never disappoint God.
How do we ensure
we aren’t disappointing God? We must spend our time, our talent, our treasure, our everything on things that hold lasting, eternal
significance. It’s so easy to get enamored with fleeting pleasures which distracts
us from God’s big picture. Let me illustrate:
Once upon a time two beautiful flowers lived
side-by-side in a magnificent garden. One was bright yellow and the other was
bright blue. From the first moments of their existence these two flowers
received profuse praise from the world for their vigor and beauty. "I love
your face," said the sun to the yellow flower. "I love your
eyes," said the sky to the blue flower. "I love your overall beauty,"
said the butterfly. "I love your pollen," said the bee. "And I
your nectar," said an ant. "I love the shade that you provide,"
said the grasshopper. The two flowers basked in their glory and all the
accolades they received.
One day the yellow flower began to do some work.
"What are you doing?" asked the blue flower. "I am making
pollen," she answered. "You shouldn't be doing that. It will make you
old before your time." The yellow flower did not heed the warning but
continued to make her pollen. The next day the blue flower was complimented by
the sky, but the sun said nothing to the yellow flower, which seemed a bit
withered and worn. "What did I tell you?" said the blue flower.
"You must spend all your time making yourself beautiful or no one in the
future will care about you." The blue flower primped her petals and primed
her color. The yellow flower was content to make pollen.
Several days later a young man was strolling
through the garden. He spied the blue flower and picked it. "This must
come to my house," he said. "What did I tell you?" said the blue
flower to the yellow. "Now I will adorn this man's house while you will
sit in the hot sun and wilt." In time when the man was finished with the
blue flower he discarded it into the fire. In time when nature had finished
with the yellow flower, there was a whole field of yellow blossoms. [3]
So the winemaker planted the vines in the fertile
soil. He built a watchtower in the middle to protect his beloved vineyard from
animals and thieves. He cut out a winepress—his dream was about to become
reality. And when the time was just right, he harvested the grapes, placed them
in the winepress and gently pressed the grapes into the juice that would become
his glorious wine. He separated out the sediment, added the yeast, placed his new wine in the vat for fermentation. Then he
waited patiently for the sweet elixir to age. When finally the wine was ready,
he once again separated out the sediment, chilled the wine for clarity—the wine
was ready! After back-breaking months of labor and tending, the winemaker would
finally enjoy the fruits of his labor!
(Pull out a glass of wine, sniff, inspect, say
“cheers!,” take a sip.)
“Ahhh. This is what I
had in mind. Nectar of the Gods. Sweet
wine.”
What kind
of wine is your life producing these days? Are
you living for yourself only, producing wine unfit for godly consumption? Or
are you concerned about the well-being of others, especially those whom society
has forgotten? God has been painstakingly tending your vines since the day you
were born.
May your life yield the sweet wine worthy of God’s
investment in you. Amen.
1] David Garber, “Commentary on Isaiah 5:1-7,” Working Preacher Blog, August 18, 2013.
[2]Elizabeth
Svoboda, “What Makes a Hero?” Discover
Magazine, September 2013, 28.
3] Paraphrased from "A Tale of Two Flowers," in John
Aurelio, Colors! Stories of the Kingdom
(New York: Crossroad, 1993), pp. 79-80.