The Rev. Joseph Farnes
All Saints, Boise
Proper 22A
October 8, 2023
In the last few years, there has been a little renaissance of mystery stories. Stories like “Knives Out” and “Only Murders in the Building” have rejuvenated the genre. Engaging characters, plenty of red herrings, comedy, and thrilling twists just believable enough. A good mystery story peeks into the shadows of the human heart – if the villain is too obvious, then it’s no fun at all. In a good mystery, there are plenty of suspects, people like you and me who might not seem like the type, but maybe there is a secret deep inside…. (fun fact: in the traditional British version of the board game, Clue, which they call Cluedo, Mr Green is a Church of England priest, the Rev. Green.)
At the heart of a good mystery story is “Who benefited from this murder?” Was it to keep a secret, was it revenge, plain ol’ greed? Who is it that would benefit from the act of murder so much that they would commit such a heinous deed? And sometimes the murderer won’t even benefit from it. They commit the deed, but the will doesn’t include them. They inherit nothing of value.
Oh, what a twist! They go through all that effort, and not to achieve their aims! Foiled by their own hubris! Foiled by their assumption that the doddering, absentee landlord who has sent multiple servants to collect his share, servants who have been beaten or murdered already, but now is sending his son because of course things will be different this time, is going to respond to the death of his heir by then leaving it to the folks who did the murdering.
While our Gospel reading this morning may not be much of a mystery story, it does get deep into the human heart. Sure, the tenants don’t think through their plan very well in plotting to murder the son and heir to the property, but ultimately it’s not logic that is driving them. It’s something else. Logic is simply an excuse for the feelings they have deep down. They can tell themselves they will get possession of the property all day long, but it’s not simple greed that is motivating them. If it were greed, they wouldn’t have been making a bad name for themselves by assaulting and murdering people before them. They would have made sure the will was written in a way that they would actually inherit the property.
It’s control. It’s power.
Now, that’s a very, very believable human behavior, and now their behavior makes sense. Leaders of all sorts and kinds easily fall into the trap of wanting control. The tenants want control of the property, the land, not having to share. And the leaders present at the telling of this parable know Jesus is pointing out this same trait.
If we were thinking logically, the leaders’ response would be, “Oh, is that how I am perceived? That I’m acting against God and trying to keep control myself for my own ends? Huh. I wonder what I might do differently.” They might be angry, they might be hurt, they might be offended, but if they were thinking logically they would choose a better response. They are reacting, not responding to the parable.
They feel that anger, and they react. They will start to invent reasons why they’re right and Jesus is wrong, and they will go with that.
People do this all the time. They have their gut reaction, and they react. The things they say are, ultimately, kind of a cover for what’s really underneath. People do this when they say they are debating an issue with facts; the facts are a smokescreen for the emotions underneath, and they will keep changing the goalposts. This is why arguing with people online is pointless; we’re not debating with facts and logic, we’re debating with someone’s gut feelings. We see this in our politics, too – how easily it becomes about obtaining power rather than any set of principles. The principles are disposable; the power is the goal.
But let’s not just look at the Gospel: Paul’s letter also points to the same point. Some leaders in the community have been saying that everyone needs to keep every single point of the Law in order to be a Christian. This is the heart of the whole circumcision business. Paul is having none of it. He intuits that it’s not so much about faithfulness to the Law that these leaders want. It’s control. If they get to decide how to interpret the rules, then they get to decide who belongs and who does not. They can decide who merits God’s grace and inclusion and who does not. They can decide who isn’t good enough to be here, who isn’t holy enough.
Paul is not putting up with that. He throws down his challenge. If those are the measures we’re going with, then look at me: impeccable lineage, immense learning, zealous and fiery. By outside measures, he’s absolutely holier than thou. But, as Paul says, those are not the heart and soul of the Gospel. They’re not the point. Paul writes, “I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings by becoming like him in his death, if somehow I may attain the resurrection from the dead. Not that I have already obtained this or have already reached the goal; but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own.”
That right there is the point. Making Christ’s death and resurrection our own, knowing that Christ has made us his own. We work this out in our daily lives as best as we can. It isn’t a checklist that gives us or someone else control over our fate: it’s a humble way of life, a messy one at that.
And this messy, humble way of life, following Christ, it’s life-giving. It sets us free day by day to be people of love, of justice, of loving-kindness and fairness. We let go of the need for power, to be right, to be holier than thou. We let go of those impulses lurking in our hearts that might make us react instead of responding. We become like the heir, the Son, instead of trying to murder him to get our way.
There’s no twist, no surprise reveal of whodunit. At the end, we’re left with something that’s not much of a mystery story after all. Only an invitation: an invitation to make our lives into Christ’s life because he has made us his own. Amen.