Reformation (Year A)
Jeremiah 31:31-34, Matthew 22:34-40
St. John’s, West Seneca
October 25, 2026
Grace to you and Peace from God our Father and the LORD Jesus Christ. Amen.
“An old story from the Netherlands tells of an ancient church, older than the Reformation. Its sanctuary, like so many others that had come through that turbulent period, was austere and simple, with plain, whitewashed walls.
"The people of that church had a tradition, so old that no one remembered its origins. As worshipers entered the church, they would stop and silently bow in the direction of one particular whitewashed wall.
"No one knew why. They just did it. It was tradition.
"In modern times, it was decided to renovate the church. The restorers began to strip the accumulated layers of whitewash off the interior walls. When they got to this particular wall, they discovered a fresco that had been hidden under successive layers of whitewash. It was a beautiful, centuries-old painting of Christ.
"No one in the parish was old enough to have remembered it. Yet, everyone had been bowing to it, without recalling why. It was the restoration experts who had revealed the truth behind the tradition.”
On Reformation Sunday, this Jeremiah text before us today is about restoration. A bit about Jeremiah. Early in his life, there were two mighty forces now beginning to fall apart: Assyria and Egypt. Babylonia was just coming into her own. Jeremiah’s tiny Judah was regaining some of its spiritual vigor and reform was on the way. But it was too little, too late. The Babylonian Empire grew stronger and in 587 BCE Judah was invaded, Jerusalem sieged and sacked, the temple destroyed, and the people exiled. You all know the Psalm, “By the waters of Babylon, there we sat down and wept when we remembered Zion…”
Out of this comes Jeremiah’s hopeful message of rebirth, of deliverance, of restoration, with the promise of God’s law being written on and in our hearts, that our sin will be remembered no more. No stone tablets are needed to gaze upon. God’s intentions will be a very part of our lives. No longer a habit or a ritual, something richer and deeper.
Habit and ritual were the order of the day by the time of Luther in 1517. People had fallen into a tradition that often was hollow, something done because it was always done that way. Doing the works – including indulgences to get a loved one out of purgatory -- made one “right” with God. Mindful as he was of his own life and faith, Luther came to understand that being made right before God cannot be done by works, but by faith, and God’s grace. What came from his faith, his beliefs, and his writings changed the face of Europe, and eventually the world.
Perhaps the very nature of reform is how we respond to the times of our lives, like Jeremiah and Luther. The Reformation, which was an historical event, is something that the church must continue to do. We must not become so attached to our traditions that we no longer realize why we do them. While God’s word remains the same, how we restore ourselves is what needs to be considered. Remember that saying: Tradition is the living faith of the dead. Traditionalism is the dead faith of the living.
“Many in our culture still bow to the traditions preserved in the church, but without recalling why. This is tradition without truth, reverence without a reason. An unchurched couple shows up with their new baby, figuring baptism is something they want, but without knowing why. An unbelieving neighbor, vocal in his unbelief, climbs a ladder each year to hang Christmas lights from the eaves of his house. A family whose loved one is dying asks the hospice chaplain to stop by and ‘say a few words’ by the bedside. What words? They're not exactly sure, but they figure the chaplain will know what to do.”
We still need reform. We could use restoration. Maybe the role of the church in a postmodern age is to provide the restoration experts society needs to recover its soul.
And for that, we turn to Jesus. In the alternate Gospel for the day, Jesus is asked about which commandment is the greatest.
“When the Pharisees heard that he had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together, 35 and one of them, an expert in the law, asked him a question to test him. 36 ‘Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?; 37 He said to him, ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ 38 This is the greatest and first commandment. 39 And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ 40 On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.” Matthew 22: 34-40
For the past weeks, Jesus has been telling parables and sparring with the scribes and Pharisees. “By the time Matthew gets to 22:34-46, everyone is tired of Jesus. Or maybe it’s more honest to say that everyone is tired of not being able to win with Jesus. They have taken their shots. They have tried political traps, trick questions and public challenges. Each attempt was carefully designed, and each one fell apart in real time. Now the Pharisees regroup. One of them, a lawyer, steps forward with what sounds like a safer question: 'Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?'
"Jesus answers their question, but then turns on them with another. 'What do they think of the Messiah?'”
Jesus never stays in his place. That is what can make us uneasy, when a question is turned back at us. Maybe if we keep things the same…
But we are called to look beyond that as heirs of the Reformation. We fall short because, it seems that we like a Jesus who is not messy.
It turns out, “we are comfortable with a faith where [we ask] questions, and a religion where we set the agenda and we decide what matters and what does not. Jesus steps into that and says, in effect, we’re asking the wrong questions.
"Or maybe more precisely, [we are] asking them from the wrong place because the greatest commandment is not a concept to be discussed. It is a life to be lived. And the Messiah is not a category to be filled. He is the Lord who refuses to fit into your categories.”
At the time of Luther, the church had the answers. Questions? No. But that’s what changed with Luther. Bringing the service into your own language, being able to read Scripture in your language. Having the idea that all are called to a vocation, not just two categories, the clergy and all the rest. This was all new, and it encouraged questions. The church thought they could contain God by putting him in a box. They had stopped listening. And when you stop listening, you stop being changed. It exists today when we believe we already know.
But Jesus will not have it any other way and asks that we be changed daily, restored daily, so that our faith never simply becomes a habit, like pausing to bow before an empty wall. Now ritual does have a place, but it must come with a reason.
On this Reformation Sunday, we are asked to re-visit who we are and where we come from. And why. And then, ask these two important questions: Where do we go from here, as reformers and restorers of the faith? And…what do you think of the Messiah? Amen.
Soli Deo Gloria.
21 Pentecost (Year A)
Matthew 22:15-22
St. John’s, West Seneca
October 18, 2026
Grace to you and Peace from God our Father and the LORD Jesus Christ. Amen.
After weeks of parables, we now have a bona fide conversation, or challenge, from the powers that be. The Pharisees wanted to trap him with a “gotcha” question. So they sent their disciples -- notice that they did not go – and some Herodians to ask a question.
These two groups – the Pharisees and the Herodians – were in bitter opposition. The proverb “my enemy’s enemy is my friend,” is certainly accurate and these two groups had combined forces. The Pharisees were the orthodox, the ones who resented the payment of a tax to a king as a violation of God’s divine right. The Herodians were the party of King Herod, who owed his power to the Romans and was in league with them. For the moment, all differences were forgotten in a common hatred of Jesus and in a common desire to humiliate and even eliminate him.
And they began with some sweet-talking, how sincere Jesus was in his teaching, how fair he was. So, is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar or not? There is nothing new under the sun.
In the time of Jesus, Palestine was an occupied country and the Jewish people were subject to the Roman Empire. And with that came the cost of being under Rome’s supervision. Like so many, the people of Israel didn't like paying taxes, but the Romans required it. No matter how Jesus would have answered, he would have made enemies on one side or the other.
The question that the Pharisees offered was the perfect setup. If Jesus said that it was unlawful to pay the tax, well, they would report him to the Romans as a traitor and he would most probably be arrested. If he said it was lawful to pay the tax, he could be discredited as a teacher. Not only did the Jewish people resent the tax (nothing new under the sun is there?), they resented it for religious reasons. In the Roman Empire, Caesar was God. For the faithful Jews, only God was KING, and any tax given to an earthly ruler was an insult to God, a breaking of the first and second commandments: those against having no other gods, making no graven image, and taking God’s name in vain.
And so Jesus asked to see a denarius, stamped with the Emperor’s head, a normal custom, as coinage was the sign of kingship. Jesus asked, whose likeness was on the coin? Caesar’s of course, came the answer. “Give it back to Caesar; it is his, and give to God what is God’s.”
Instead of a rule, or passing judgment, Jesus laid down the truth, and in so doing, affirmed both. He didn’t side with the Pharisees or the Herodians.
Neither do we have sides here. Matthew’s gospel wants us to understand that our allegiance is to God. There are earthly matters that are often not by choice and may not even seem right or fair -- like paying taxes. And there are faith matters of obedience and allegiance to God that demand our attention, our devotion. But they are not necessarily at odds. Do not use one as an excuse to avoid the other. God is not a convenient escape to avoid doing the things you dislike doing. We are instead to have one foot in each kingdom.
Just in time for Reformation Sunday, Martin Luther and Philipp Melanchthon wrote about this in what would become known as the doctrine of two governments or of two kingdoms. There is the spiritual kingdom where God rules with the gospel, feeding his church with forgiveness and changing her heart by his Spirit. Then there is the realm of the secular which includes every human institution and structure -- such as government and work and family -- and through which other matters are dealt with.
The point for the reformers was that both kingdoms belonged to God. Both exist to bring about God’s purposes. In one realm God provided the structures for survival, and in the other he provided the means of grace and for membership in his eternal family. But they are both God’s.
“Give therefore to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and to God the things that are God’s.” The question before us today is simple: Who has your ultimate allegiance? To whom do you owe all you are and all you have?
As we continue on the topic of stewardship, I have asked you to think about accountability, about passion. This week, I wrote a blurb about priorities, because allegiance to God involves that we order our lives with what we consider to be most important. A writer named Daniel Southern writes this and it is, of all things, a sports analogy:
“If you put God first, everything else will fall into place.
"How do you do this? It starts with humbling yourself and admitting that God is the coach and you are the player. He calls the plays and you execute them — sometimes over and over again, always learning more about God and yourself. And you keep at it, always reminding yourself that the coach has a perspective of the game you’ll never have.
"The legendary coach Tom Landry once told me that he had three priorities in life: God, family and football — in that order. ‘Until you get your priorities straight, you will never be truly successful at anything.’”
After reading that, I thought of Gale Sayers, the football great who once wrote that “The Lord is first, my friends are second, and I am third.” I AM THIRD is the title of his biography. I read that in high school.
I thought of Antoni Gaudi, the visionary Spanish designer and architect who had his priorities: God, then nature, then Catalonia, that region of Spain that includes Barcelona.
This dance we call life is serious business and the stakes are eternally high. We must start with the fundamentals, the priorities…
As we go about our lives, we cannot forget that we belong to God, the one, true God, who calls us by name. We belong to God, so while we need systems and governments, and while we want possessions, we must remember that with God, we do not just give a coin and then move on. Our allegiance, our priorities are for the entirety of our life.
And, importantly, this is not something you settle once and move on. It is something you keep discovering daily, often in the small decisions, quiet moments and the places where it would be easier to belong to something else.
Jesus’s answer is still crucial. “Give therefore to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and to God the things that are God’s.”
“Can you look with eyes of faith and see the working of God in the world around you? Can you see that all the world is God’s and all that is in it? Can you prioritize your life so that you will not be led away or blinded by the pursuit of things? Because in our time, it seems that we have been convinced that we need to have as much as possible. God asks us to love and to give that love freely and fully."
Psalm 24 says: “The earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it..” The Pharisees and Herodians couldn’t see that. They were stuck, in tradition and authority. Somehow they failed to understand that God was sovereign, over all their tradition, all their laws. Their priorities were mixed up.
The good news is that if we put God first, if we can look and see and follow where God calls and Jesus leads, then everything will sort itself out. The catch is that it might not be in the way you imagine. Amen.
Soli Gloria Dei.
20 Pentecost (Year A)
Matthew 22:1-14
St. John’s, West Seneca
October 11, 2026
Grace to you and Peace from God our Father and the LORD Jesus Christ. Amen.
This week’s quote:
“When Jesus tells a story about a party, we immediately know it’s going to get strange because Jesus never has boring party stories. Remember the wedding at Cana? If the party in today’s text were normal, people would show up, eat too much, stay too long and leave with leftovers. Instead, the invitations go out to the guest list. The king has done all the work. The feast is ready … but nobody shows up.”
Matthew continues his parables with a king who is throwing a banquet for his son. Everything is ready; the food, the wine, the flowers. The guests have not yet arrived, and so the messengers are sent to fetch them. In ancient Israel, a wedding invitation was sent out months in advance to the guests, but no date was given. When all was prepared, messenger brought the news to the guests, asking them to come and celebrate and feast. In a few weeks, we will see the same in the parable of the wise and foolish bridesmaids. The bridegroom comes; and only five were ready.
In this case, no one shows up. The food is now cold, or worse, the wine cannot be recorked, and the king is not happy. He sends two different groups of messengers, but to no avail. Angry, he sends his men to destroy those ungrateful guests. Something tells me that Emily Post would not approve of that tactic, but he makes his point.
“’Go therefore into the main streets, and invite everyone you find to the wedding banquet.’ Those slaves went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad; so the wedding hall was filled with guests.”
The king sends his slaves into the streets to gather up anyone, so that the wedding hall may be filled. Everybody, the blind, the deaf, the lame, the beggars and the merchants, the sick, the abused and the abusers, the professionals and the blue-collar types, the religious, the righteous, farmers, tax collectors, you name it, if it exists in society, then the invitation is extended. Come and eat, drink, and be merry.
And then, something odd happens. The king spots one man who is underdressed for such an occasion. The king, still in a good mood, asks: “Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?” The man says nothing. He doesn’t apologize, or plead ignorance, or mention that he is too poor to afford such a garment. He says nothing. He is speechless, according to Matthew. And so he is bound and tossed out.
His behavior and dress are unacceptable. It reminds me of that time Martha Steward wore a pink pantsuit to a formal White House dinner. It is just not done.
What is going on? The underlying theme is grace, that undeserved love and mercy that God so lovingly gives. That is why this parable hits a little too close to home. The problem is not that the king failed to invite anyone. The problem is that the invitation was inconvenient. Yes, God’s grace was inconvenient.
Grace is rarely rejected because it is unclear. It is rejected because it gets in the way of our well-laid plans.
In some lectionaries, the First Reading is not from Isaiah, but from Exodus. The famous “golden calf” that the Israelites design.
Think about it. “The golden calf is not about abandoning God. It is about reshaping God into something more manageable, visible and predictable. Something that moves at our pace:
- A God we can carry.
- A God we can point to.
- A God we can control.
…They are trying to make God easier, which is not that different from what we do when we treat grace as optional...
We want a grace that fits into our lives without rearranging them. A grace that comforts without confronting. A grace that gets us into the party but does not ask us to change clothes.
Today’s parable is about grace, grace that is free and totally, completely disruptive.
“The invitation costs nothing, but the transformation costs everything…
"We want a God who invites us to the party and then leaves us alone once we get there. We want grace that gets us in the door but does not ask us to change once we are inside. Forgiveness without reorientation. Belonging without transformation…You know the tune.
"And Jesus tells a story that refuses to let us settle for that.
"The man without the garment isn’t someone who couldn’t afford the right clothes. That is not the point. In a story like this, the host would have provided what was needed. The problem is not access. The problem is refusal.
"He shows up, but he does not receive what has been given. He wants the party without the participation, and the invitation without the implication. And that is where the parable stops being about someone else and starts being about us, because we are good at showing up.
"We show up at church. We worship. We come to the table. We know the words and the rhythms. We know when to stand and sit, and when to nod so it looks like we are tracking.
"We too are not trying to ignore or rid ourselves of God. We just want all of this to be easier.
"Again, what we want is a grace that fits neatly into our lives without disturbing a moment of “our” time. A grace that comforts us. A grace that gets us into the party but does not ask us to change clothes.”
Like Jesus, this parable is radical. The invitation to the feast is real. Wide open doors welcome us. However, the grace that brings you here demands that you change. You don’t get to stay in the same place.
This is what we need. Grace should bring passion for God and his world, for His Son, for the gift of the Holy Spirit. “Because we live in a world that is good at showing up, yet resistant to change. We attend, consume, observe and comment. Then we move on.”
We move on, unchanged, with no passion, no enthusiasm. In your bulletin today I ask: Do you have a passion for Jesus? Do you get excited when you hear the Gospel and more importantly, do you put it into your life by loving your neighbor, by being generous, by “walking the talk?” That won’t do.
“…Jesus tells a story about a king who will not settle for that kind of participation. A king who throws a feast for people who don’t deserve it, didn’t earn it, and weren’t even on the original guest list. Then he expects them to receive it fully, be changed by it, and look like they belong to it.”
It is unsettling. Jesus speaks of a party, but this is the kingdom of God, way more than a party. This is about a God who refuses to leave us as we are. And that is what we struggle against.
And it is not because we have disappointed God; it is because God is not done with us. He is the potter; we are the clay. As for the man with the inappropriate garment, that’s like when you go to a very fancy restaurant without a dress coat; they bring you one. He is not thrown out for being imperfect. He is refusing this gift of grace that would make him new. It is a strong image, but those are the ones we remember.
So, where is your passion for Christ? And I don’t mean piety. I mean that enthusiasm that makes each day new because God is always more ready to listen, more ready to love, more ready to bestow grace. Do you have that passion that makes others wonder why? That makes other ask: how does she do it?
If you receive an invitation to God’s banquet, will it be resounding yes? Or do you say: I cannot come. Don’t trouble me now. Amen.
Soli Deo Gloria.
18 Pentecost (Year A)
Matthew 21:23-32
St. John’s, West Seneca
September 27, 2026
Grace to you and Peace from God our Father and the LORD Jesus Christ. Amen.
Today’s gospel has two parts and then a “yes” parable. Jesus is interrupted by the chief priests and elders as he is teaching. They wanted to know, really, whether he had a license to teach, and if so, who gave him permission. Jesus responds in typical rabbinical fashion. Answer with a question. “Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?” The priests and scribes didn’t want to say John’s baptism was from heaven, because Jesus — they presumed— would then ask why they didn’t believe in a baptism from heaven. But they didn’t want to say that his baptism was from men, or of human origin, because this would antagonize the public, because they believed that John was a great prophet. So, they said, “We do not know.” Basically, Jesus calls their bluff. “You lose. I am not going to tell you by what authority I am doing these things.”
A group of military leaders builds an AI-powered super computer able to solve any problem, large or small, strategic or tactical. The decorated generals with a galaxy of stars pinned to their lapels gather in front of the new machine for a demonstration. The engineer conducting the demonstration instructs the officers to feed a difficult tactical problem into it. The military leaders proceed to describe a hypothetical situation to the computer and then ask the pivotal question: “attack or retreat?” The enormous super-computer hums and then delivers its one-word answer: “Yes.”
The generals look at each other, stupefied. One of them submits a second request to the computer: “YES, WHAT?” The computer instantly responds: “YES, SIR.”
Jesus then continues with the parable of the two sons, a parable found only in Matthew. One son says that he will not do what his father has asked him to do, but later changes his mind and does what his father asked. The second son says that he will do what his father has asked him to do, but then doesn’t do it. Jesus’s question is: “Which of the two did the will of his father?”
And so they answered: The first. Now, as the learned scholars of the day, those priests and scribes knew the answer to Jesus’s questions. They were well acquainted with the Scriptures and the law, as well as tradition. They taught it. But as is the problem with so many; they did not live it.
It all comes down to Rhetoric vs. Reality.
“The sinners," Jesus says, "are entering ‘the kingdom of God ahead of you.’” The sinners are those who say “No” to God, but then believe and obey. The others are those who say “Yes” to God, but then do not obey.
As the early Christians told and retold this story, they realized that this was more than commentary on the leaders of the synagogue. This parable speaks to our lives and the way we live, what we say and what we do. We know that there’s lots of talk; that there are many who “talk the talk,” but seldom “walk the talk.” Jesus reminds us that not all who say “Lord, Lord,” will enter the kingdom of heaven. And we know all too well that it is just not that easy to do what God asks. But in this parable and in the end, it’s not what the sons say that matters eternally. It is not their words. It’s what they do.
It’s the behavior of the sons that Jesus emphasizes. The one son looks and sounds good. He’s quick, talks a good game. But he is disobedient. He is not to be trusted. He lies to his father, as if dear old dad will never find out what really happened. As if his father isn’t going to see past his charade.
Now, as to the other son, he speaks his mind, and tells his dad what the Father doesn’t what to hear. Dad asks for help. “No sir, not me.”
He speaks rashly. Maybe he isn’t as quick or slick as his brother, but eventually, he comes to his senses and does what his father asks him to do. He does not sneak off. He rolls the idea around in his head, makes up his mind, and goes to do the right thing.
That is where we are today. Time and time again, Christians contend with confusing and contradictory issues concerning how someone appears vs. how he or she behaves. They say one thing, then do another. It’s time to get our spiritual values straight – because what is on the inside matters.
“The Dalai Lama said it well: ‘Every change of mind is first of all a change of heart.’" I think the opposite is true as well, that every change of heart is a change of mind.
The faith of a Christian shows. Christianity is a DOING religion. Are we the faithful or the unfaithful son? Both lied to the Father. But one changed his mind, and in so doing, does the will of the father.
Faithful Christians do, not because they have to, but because they want to, out of the thankfulness of a grateful heart. Deceitful Christians may fool themselves, but they can’t fool God. Before God, all of us are transparent. We can’t hide anything, not our actions, our intentions, our thoughts.
Too many people put too much stock in what appears to be, rather than what is. Certain people may appear to be good Christians. They attend the right church, to be seen with the right people and to give to the right charities. They wear the right clothes, speak the right words, read the right books, but often, they are like the son who lies to his father, expecting never to get caught. They are like the Pharisees.
On the other hand, in this parable, Jesus points to the prostitutes and the tax collectors, whose appearance is definitely not right, but whose hearts are. They are like that second son. They’re not synagogue people. They are scorned. They are outcasts, barely tolerated and despised.
Jesus says the prostitutes and tax men are going to get into heaven before the holier-than-thou Pharisees. They may not know the law, they may say “no,” but they know enough to recognize the truth when they hear it. Once they hear it, their hearts change. And once their hearts change, they live out their faith.
Who among us has been like either son? We all know how hard it is keep the promises we have made. They just slip away. And so, when it comes to this parable, we tend to direct it toward others. Lord knows we have plenty of targets: TV evangelists with the success gospels, the megachurches, politicians.
Because of all this bad press, the world has learned to turn away from our empty words. But what stops them in their tracks every time are those who really do “walk the talk.”
That is transformation. We come here to be transformed, to be clay in the potter’s hands. Isn’t one of our favorite songs: Change my heart, O God? Are you ready to do it? To be changed?
The chief priests and the elders were “in a rut’ and could not see beyond it. They could no longer understand how God could and would transform them. But for those on the outside, who may have said “no,” Jesus’s words turn them around.
Words do have power, but so do actions. Transformation is putting them together and changing the world, or at least our little corner of it.
“Do we find it easy to say ‘Yes’ when God confronts us with a possibility for service, but difficult to follow the ‘Yes’ with corresponding obedience?
"Perhaps the lesson is don’t be afraid to say, ‘No.’ No, God, I can’t do that.
"Then, let’s be willing to have a change of heart. Hasn’t God always asked us to change, to have a change of heart, even a new heart and a right spirit?”
"What will be your answer to: “Go, and work in the vineyard today.” ?
Amen.
Soli Deo Gloria.
17 Pentecost (Year A)
Matthew
St. John’s, West Seneca
September 20, 2026
Grace to you and Peace from God our Father and the LORD Jesus Christ. Amen.
We come to Jonah today, and while the story is mostly known for its sea creature that swallows Jonah whole, there is so much more. And one of the points we miss is the comedy of it all.
Jonah is the reluctant, recalcitrant prophet. He doesn’t want to go to Nineveh and is defiant about it. Now, to give him his due, he did understand how difficult it is to speak for God, so his lack of enthusiasm is understandable. God gives him this mission: “Go at once to Nineveh, that great city, and cry out against it; for their wickedness has come up before me.” When Jonah heard that, he was even more upset. These people are foreigners and off his beat, thank you. And besides that, it sounds like an impossible mission. Jonah is asked to go to the capital of Assyria, a powerful enemy of Israel, then preach against them.
So Jonah bolts in the opposite direction, in and of itself funny, almost like a sitcom. (Remember that Seinfeld episode, where George decided to do the opposite, because his luck is so bad?) Does Jonah believe God won’t notice the direction he’s taking? In any event he leaves for Tarshish in an effort to escape, hops on a boat, encounters a storm, is thrown overboard, and is swallowed by the famous fish. Jonah is such a bellyful that even that great creature cannot tolerate him and finally he is spewed out on dry land, and the word of the Lord comes to him again: “Get up, go to Nineveh, that great city, and proclaim to it the message that I tell you.”
This time Jonah goes to Nineveh. I imagine it was quite the site, as he made his way through that great and wicked city. “Forty days more, and Nineveh shall be overthrown!”
To Jonah’s surprise, the Ninevites take his warning to heart, and repent of their sins. They proclaim a fast and put on sackcloth, young and old alike. Even the king of Nineveh rises from his throne, removes his robe, covers himself in sackcloth, and sits in ashes. He calls everyone in the city to turn from their evil ways.
When God sees what they do, he changes his mind. They don’t die; they live. That is the good news and should be the end of the story.
That’s where it becomes somewhat humorous. What does Jonah do? He sulks; he goes outside the city walls and pouts. What does God do with this ornery prophet? God provides a bush to give shade for Jonah. And it is a relief. God then causes the bush to wither, leaving Jonah angry and moping once again. That is where we find Jonah today.
God speaks to his wayward prophet: “You are concerned about the bush, for which you did not labor and which you did not grow; it came into being in a night and perished in a night. And should I not be concerned about Nineveh, that great city, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand persons who do not know their right hand from their left…”
What God is saying is this: ‘here you are, (Jonah), upset for one plant that you did not grow and has now shriveled up, so what’s wrong with having pity for this whole place that’s headed for hell in a handbasket?”
Jonah is a humorous story because it speaks to human behavior, and the difference between what we want, and what God wants. I understand that the entire book of Jonah is read on Yom Kippur because it reminds our brothers and sisters – and us -that:
It reminds us that no one can hide from God or run away. God’s presence is everywhere. God accepts sincere repentance, showing that anyone can change and receive God’s mercy.
And most importantly, we are reminded that the Creator of the Universe cares for all humanity, not just one group.
Paired with this Jonah text is the parable of the workers in the field. The message is similar. This is what Frederick Buechner says about parables,
“A parable is a small story with a large point. Most of the ones Jesus told have a kind of sad fun about them. The parables of the Crooked Judge, the Sleepy Friend, and the Distraught Father are really jokes in their way, at least part of whose point seems to be that a silly question deserves a silly answer. In the Prodigal Son, the elder brother's pious pique when the returning prodigal gets the red-carpet treatment is worthy of Moliere's Tartuffe, as is the outraged legalism of the Laborers in the Vineyard when Johnny-Come-Lately gets as big a slice of the worm as the Early Bird. The point of the Unjust Steward is that it's better to be a resourceful rascal than a saintly schlemiel, and of the Talents that, spiritually speaking, playing the market will get you further than playing it safe. ... With parables and jokes both, if you have to have it explained, don't bother.” --Frederick Buechner, Wishful Thinking: A Theological ABC (New York: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1973), 66-67.
There is a message for us in these readings, this Scripture, humor aside, but it has nothing to do with how fair the world may be, but instead with how interesting it can be when in the service of God, especially if we have our own ideas about how God is supposed to function and operate within our own world.
If we volunteer to serve God with our own agenda, job description, outcome statements in hand — we’re setting ourselves up for disappointment. Jonah was disappointed, as were those early workers, but that’s not the point. Here is.
God’s ways are not our ways, as Jonah and those laborers learned. God enters into an agreement with each of those workers and each group agreed to the terms. Jonah was part of God’s covenant, one of His chosen people. And yet God chooses to save Nineveh.
Did it turn out to be equal? No. Does God destroy Nineveh? No. By our standards, something is off. But our standards are not God’s standards. This parable, along with Jonah, reminds us that God’s way may shock and even offend the accepted standards. It’s unsettling and it challenges our belief in how we measure.
One of the “God Pause” writers this week spoke about this:
“We understand fairness as equal pay for equal work. But Jesus is not giving a lesson in payroll practices; he is revealing key insights about the kingdom of heaven, where grace is not a paycheck but a gift. This is good news at the heart of the gospel: God does not love us because we have earned it. Our hours, achievements, or spiritual résumés do not measure God's mercy. God's generosity can feel threatening when we are busy comparing ourselves to others. Yet the Lord's kindness to another person does not diminish the Lord's kindness to us. Grace is not scarce. Forgiveness is not divided into smaller portions when more sinners are welcomed home. God's abundance is large enough for all.”
Think of it this way. God loves each one of us, individually, and unconditionally, warts and all. Does God love you? The answer is yes. Did Jesus die for your sins, so that you can have forgiveness and eternal life? Yes. Is the Holy Spirit promised to act in our lives? Yes. When you come to this table, you hear: “The body of Christ, given for you. For you. We are not supposed to be comparing ourselves with anyone. “Comparison is the thief of joy.”
This is God’s to give, and so what if those other laborers came after you. It does not negate God’s love for you. And so what if those people are evil and they repented and God decides to be merciful? It is God’s to give, and no matter how much God gives, there is still enough left over for you and for me. I’m reminded of the Dennis the Menace cartoon where Dennis says to his friend. “Mrs. Wilson doesn’t give us cookies because we’re nice. She gives us cookies because she’s nice.” As is God. Amen.
Soli Deo Gloria.
16 Pentecost (Year A)
Genesis 50
St. John’s, West Seneca
September 13, 2026
Grace to you and Peace from God our Father and the LORD Jesus Christ. Amen.
The story of Joseph is well-known, immortalized as it is in Andrew Lloyd Weber’s JOSEPH AND THE AMAZING TECHNICOLOR DREAMCOAT. You know the story. Father has a son with most favored wife; other sons are jealous, sons find way to get even; most favored ends up most favored in a foreign land; years later, as favored one had predicted, sons need food; find that most favored son now in power.
Joseph, the first son of his father Jacob's favored wife, takes center stage late in Genesis. A precocious, no-expense-spared child, he incurs the wrath of his 10 older brothers with dreams, or rather, his interpretation of them. He dreams that in various ways his brothers will one day bow before him, and being the gifted person that he is, goes and tells his brothers as they are out working. Those brothers did not have long fuses, and one day, after Joseph received a special coat, they plan to rid themselves of this annoyance. One day they throw him into a pit, and seeing a caravan in the distance, sell him into slavery. Then, in order to persuade their father, they make up a story about Joseph being wounded and killed by a wild animal, going so far as to dip his coat in blood as evidence.
They meant it for evil, but God meant it for good. Joseph lands in Egypt, is situated in the house of Potiphar until Potiphar’s wife accuses him of sexual assault, whereupon, once again, he’s a prisoner. Here is where his life takes a turn. Two of his fellow captives are former employees of the Pharaoh, and each has disturbing dreams. Joseph, whose dreams got him into trouble at home, and having the gift of dream interpretation, decodes their dreams accurately; one is executed and the other is returned to Pharaoh’s favor. Joseph begs the latter to remember him.
Like any good story, the servant forgets, until some time in the future. It is now Pharaoh’s turn to be harassed by dreams, and Joseph is recalled from prison to interpret and give counsel. His forecast that there will be seven years of plenty and seven years of scarcity strikes the Pharoah as true, and Joseph is soon promoted to watch over the granaries that will soon be filled.
And it comes to pass. Scarcity comes not only to Egypt, but also to Canaan. Joseph’s brothers have to travel to Egypt for grain. Joseph recognizes them instantly, while the brothers remain unaware. Is this where the forgiveness happens?
No. He accuses them of being spies, and when they explain their situation, Joseph demands that one must stay – Simeon – and the others can go, but they must return with the youngest brother…Benjamin. And he does give them grain, but after receiving their payment, places it in the bags. And by the way, Joseph overhears all this discussion as his brothers don’t know that he can understand them. He hears regret about what they did. He also weeps.
And so they return to Jacob, who is bereaved and refuses to send Benjamin, until the grain runs low. This time, he allows Benjamin to go, and sends the money from before and new payment, plus a gift honey and pistachios.
Joseph invites them to his house, and the brothers get nervous again. Joseph inquires about the “old man,” is he well? When he sees Benjamin, he is overcome and must leave the room to weep.
They dine and Benjamin receives five times the amount. Once again, they leave, with sacks of grain and once again with their payment. This time Joseph has his silver cup placed in Benjamin’s bag. Of course, they are followed and Joseph demands that Benjamin stay, as he is the one who has the cup. Judah begs Joseph, telling him that if they return without Benjamin, they fear their father will die.
“Then Joseph could no longer control himself before all those who stood by him, and he cried out, “Send everyone away from me.” So no one stayed with him when Joseph made himself known to his brothers. 2 And he wept so loudly that the Egyptians heard it, and the household of Pharaoh heard it. 3 Joseph said to his brothers, “I am Joseph. Is my father still alive?” But his brothers could not answer him, so dismayed were they at his presence.
4 Then Joseph said to his brothers, “Come closer to me.” And they came closer. He said, “I am your brother, Joseph, whom you sold into Egypt. 5 And now do not be distressed or angry with yourselves because you sold me here, for God sent me before you to preserve life. 6 For the famine has been in the land these two years, and there are five more years in which there will be neither plowing nor harvest. 7 God sent me before you to preserve for you a remnant on earth and to keep alive for you many survivors. 8 So it was not you who sent me here but God; he has made me a father to Pharaoh and lord of all his house and ruler over all the land of Egypt. 9 Hurry and go up to my father and say to him, ‘Thus says your son Joseph, God has made me lord of all Egypt; come down to me; do not delay. 10 You shall settle in the land of Goshen, and you shall be near me, you and your children and your children’s children, as well as your flocks, your herds, and all that you have. 11 I will provide for you there, since there are five more years of famine to come, so that you and your household and all that you have will not come to poverty.’ 12 And now your eyes and the eyes of my brother Benjamin see that it is my own mouth that speaks to you. 13 You must tell my father how greatly I am honored in Egypt and all that you have seen. Hurry and bring my father down here.” 14 Then he fell upon his brother Benjamin’s neck and wept, while Benjamin wept upon his neck. 15 And he kissed all his brothers and wept upon them, and after that his brothers talked with him.”
Jacob comes to Egypt to live out his days, and after his death, his ten sons are once again wary that Joseph will punish them, and so present themselves as his slaves. Joseph – in a remarkable act of forgiveness - says this: “Even though you intended to do harm to me, God intended it for good, in order to preserve a numerous people, as he is doing today.”
But what is this thing called forgiveness? As we see in the Genesis text, it is a spiritual struggle, a process which is done sometimes quickly, other times, slowly, gradually, taking years. But there is a common theme.
- "To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you." — Maya Angelou (often attributed to Lewis B. Smedes)
- "Not forgiving is like drinking rat poison and then waiting for the rat to die." — Anne Lamott (or Maya Angelou)
- "Forgiveness is the key that unlocks the door of resentment and the handcuffs of hatred." — Corrie ten Boom
- "The weak can never forgive. Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong." — Mahatma Gandhi
- "Anger makes you smaller, while forgiveness forces you to grow beyond what you were." — Cherie Carter-Scott
- "When you forgive, you in no way change the past - but you sure do change the future." — Bernard Meltzer
- "Forgiveness says you are given another chance to make a new beginning." — Desmond Tutu
You will have noticed that with these sayings you are the one set free. That is what needs to be learned. Joseph’s road to forgiveness is not immediate. He needs time. Even though he has a high position in Egypt, and has it all, that youth who was sold into slavery still has a voice. But…
- He finds that he is the prisoner who is now set free.
- He finds that the key to unlock what came before is to forgive.
- And he is strong, so Joseph forgives. And in that moment, he becomes larger.
- He changes his future and makes a new beginning
This whole world is in need of forgiveness for one thing or another. Today Jesus goes even farther, telling us to forgive 77 times, and reminding us that it is non=negotiable. It is part and parcel of the Lord’s Prayer. No matter what we think, forgiveness is about the present and the future. We want to live our lives with God, not with those who hurt us in the past. Amen.
Soli Deo Gloria.
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