Prayer: Come Holy Spirit, come.  Take my lips and speak with them, take our minds and think with them, take our hearts and set them on fire with love for you.  In Christ’s name, we ask it.  Amen.

There are more than 300,000 congregations, parishes, synagogues, temples, and mosques in the United States and sociologist Mark Chaves wants to know what makes them tick.  How many members, how much money, and what kind of leaders do they have?  How do congregations foster the arts, sponsor social service programs, and engage in political activities?  How do they contribute to the nation’s cultural, social service, and political endeavors?  Dr. Chaves’ work in the area has culminated in a book titled, “Congregations in America” published by Harvard press. 

There are many interesting and illuminating facts in the book—some positive—some helpful—and some that might make us all a little uncomfortable.  One of these facts—and I hope it does make us feel uncomfortable—is that on the whole, congregations are not highly involved in social services, civic affairs, or political activities.  For example, the average congregation supports just one social service program.  Chaves writes, “Congregations tend to address [when they do at all] immediate short term needs that require material resources (food and clothing) rather than long term needs that demand sustained personal involvement.”  Chaves concludes, “That congregations are not more involved in social outreach [today] than they were in the 1920s and ‘30s.”

Now I am happy to say that All Saint’s/The Episcopal Student Center is not an average congregation particularly in the area of social outreach.  Many who are in need are served by this place both relationally and materially.  Nonetheless, I find Dr. Chaves’ findings troubling, and I believe they should be a wake up call for all parishes and congregations in America.  It’s time for us all, even those of us who do outreach well, to take a look in the mirror—and ask ourselves the hard question: are we doing enough?   

Like Dr. Chaves’ findings, Jesus’ parable, in today’s gospel lesson, is intended to be a wake up call for the religious communities and, in particular, the religious leaders of his own day.  In a sense, Jesus is holding a mirror up to the faces of his religious leaders so that they can see the inconsistencies and down right hypocrisy in their lives.  Jesus begins, “What do you, [religious leaders] think?  A man had two sons.  The father approached the first and said, ‘Son, go and work in the vineyard today.’”  “No, I will not,” the son replies.  Why the first son said no, we can only speculate.  Perhaps, at the time, he just didn’t feel like it, or perhaps he had another agenda for his life than the one his father had for him.  Whatever the underlying circumstance, he honestly and abruptly refuses the father.  However, something curious—perhaps even unexpected happens.  Despite the son’s initial refusal to heed his father’s request, he changes his mind and goes into the vineyard to do the work set before him.
 
Next the father approaches the second son and makes the same request, “Son, go and work in the vineyard today.”  Now I imagine this son with a reverent smile on his face and the good-natured look of a pious child answered, “I go, sir.”  A wolf dressed in sheep’s clothing.  His manners impeccable, his appearance innocent, his true intentions insidious.  The second son tells the father what he wants to hear and then he sneaks off to tend to his own concerns.

Maybe the first son spoke rashly.  Maybe he isn't as smooth, as slick or as savvy as his brother—but eventually, he does what's required of him.  He doesn't sneak off.  He rolls up his sleeves and gets to work.  Jesus continues, “Which of the two sons did the will of the father?”  The religious leaders respond, “The first.”  The son who said he would not go and then did.  And I think most of us would agree.  We all know the old adage, “Actions speak louder than words.”

Now here’s the wake up call.  You see, with the response, “The first,” the religious leaders of Jesus’ day (who were also the political, social and economic leaders of the time) without realizing it condemn themselves.  They give the correct response; however, in the parable, Jesus is referring directly to the religious leaders as the second son—the son who says all the right things with no intention of following through.  Jesus continues, “Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you.”  I don’t want to soft peddle this.  Jesus’ words must have caused serious discomfort—to say the least.  To give this context, imagine Jesus standing before the leaders of our own day—the president, the pope, or our own presiding bishop—and saying, “Truly I tell you, traitors and sinners are going into the kingdom of God before you.”  This is strong language. 

In a future confrontation with the very same religious leaders, Jesus says, “Woe to you Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!  For you [give impressive gifts to the temple] yet have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faith.”  This is the heart of Jesus’ conflict with the religious leaders of his day.  You see they took the best seats at public events, including worship.  They wore the finest clothing.  They said the most eloquent prayers.  They lived lavish lifestyles.  They did all these things while neglecting the profound needs of the masses.  Just like the second son, the religious leaders said all the right things, but when it came to action, they turned each to their own cares and concerns ignoring the great need that surrounded them on all sides.  
 
Wouldn’t you agree with me when I say it is a good thing the situation is different these days?  Or, is it?  Or is it?  I wonder how Jesus would approach the leadership of our day both in the church and beyond.  As just one example, how have we really done following through with the great hope that came out of the social justice movements of the 1960’s either the civil rights movement or the war on poverty.  Remember the vision of radical equality that Dr. King held up for this nation at the foot of the Lincoln memorial, “When we let freedom ring, we will be able to speed up that day when all God’s children, black people and white people, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, [Rich and Poor] will be able to join hands and sing…‘Free at last!’” 

Just focusing on the church itself, have we really provided the religious leadership necessary to live into this vision of racial and social harmony as the people of God?  Moreover, the situation in New Orleans in the first days following Katrina disturbingly demonstrated that poverty is still deeply a part of our culture, and, sadly, it seems largely ignored.  I am not going to catalogue all the woes and injustices that exist in our church and in the broader world.  I just want to point out that we are all still a long way off from embracing the ethic of love that Jesus came to proclaim among us. 

In the past and even now, the church has stood up as a place of refuge and hope for people in times of desperation.  Most recently this has clearly been demonstrated and continues to be demonstrated, even in this moment, as the church responds to the devastation wrought by both Katrina and now Rita.  However, I believe it is time to stand up and lead not just in times of tragedy, but at all times.  And like the first son not through our words, but through our actions.  It’s time for the church to overcome the apathy suggested in Dr. Chaves’ book.  It is time for the church to lead all people of good will into becoming agents of compassion, justice, and healing in our world.   

An old, wise rabbi was disciplining a group of young men.  Early one morning before the sun rose, the old teacher asked his students, “How can you tell when night becomes day?”  One student quickly raised his hand and responded, “It’s when from a long way off you can tell the difference between a camel and a horse.”  “No,” the old teacher replied.  A second student raised his hand and suggested, “It’s when from a great distance you can tell the difference between a date palm and a fig tree.”  Again, the rabbi said, “No that is not it.”  He paused for a moment and when no other students had a suggestion, he said, “It is when every person in this world can look into the eyes of a stranger and see there a sister or a brother.  Until that day comes, it is night.”