Read the Lectionary Texts

Sermon by Rev. Dr. Rhonda A. Blevins

Pastor of Chapel by the Sea, Clearwater Beach, FL

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!

(Preacher’s note: 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 bet 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, 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!

(Preacher’s note: 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.