The Third Tuesday of Advent -- December 13, 2011

Matthew 21:28 - 32

“What do you think? There was a man who had two sons. He went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work today in the vineyard.’

“‘I will not,’ he answered, but later he changed his mind and went.

“Then the father went to the other son and said the same thing. He answered, ‘I will, sir,’ but he did not go.

“Which of the two did what his father wanted?”

“The first,” they answered.

Jesus said to them, “Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God ahead of you. For John came to you to show you the way of righteousness, and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes did. And even after you saw this, you did not repent and believe him.


As I listen to this passage, I find myself within it.

I think of the promises I've made to God and others, especially the ones that I made with a deep earnestness. Some of them felt at the time like life-long commitments. They were made with such fervor and dedication . . . at summer camps in my younger years, or during the revival services, or in the emotionally-charged prayer gathering, or in the quiet of my personal prayer time.

"I'll never do that ____ again!"

Or, "I'll always . . ."

Usually the fervor of those decisions and impulses lasted a few days, but then I became the one who said, "I'll go out," but did not go.

By the same token, there have been plenty of instances when I've resisted God's invitations, plenty of times when I've ignored the persistent God-calls, hanging on as tightly as I could to life-as-I-knew-it, to what I had in that moment, to my understanding of life and self. Then, in the midst of ignoring or resisting or saying, "No, I will not go!", some events -- not of my own making -- have broken down the barricades. And I actually ended up doing what I had resisted.

I became the one who said, "No, I will not go!," by ended up going anyway.

So my life is not lived cleanly one way or the other. This is yet another biblical story in which I don't have the liberty to choose one character as my model over another. I am both of these people, both the one who says, "No," then goes anyway . . . and the one who says, "Yes," but does not go.

I have one foot in both camps. My life is not cleanly one or the other. I might as well recognize that about myself.