|
First
Reading
|
Psalm |
Epistle |
Gospel |
| Deuteronomy 11:18–21, 26–28 |
|
Romans 1:16–17; 3:22b–28 |
Matthew 7:21–29 |
The twentieth century theologian Paul Tillich said, in effect, that superficial faith is like a vase of cut flowers. The flowers are pretty for a while, but they will never grow or bloom again. You may change the water to prolong their fading, but only for a while. They have no roots and therefore, even though they appear to be fresh, they begin to wilt and decay the moment they are picked.
Springtime in the hills around the shores of Galilee is fresh and invigorating. Wildflowers pop up and cover the pastures as soon as rain wets the dry hills. When Jesus left his home in the spring and began teaching in the synagogues, he was welcomed and people eagerly listened. As his reputation grew, however, Jesus had to resist the serious temptations of stroking the latent emotions of immaturity and spreading the spores of an easy, but delusional demand to return to the mythical Garden of Eden. Cries for more and more miracles, to overthrow the Romans, to bestow distinct privilege in God’s new commonwealth, to fulfill and identify with all the people’s desires became temptations of the devil. When Jesus offered a larger, wider vision that stretched rather than ratified one’s limited view, popular admiration began to peter out, and interest turned into disappointment. Many people expected Jesus to offer a quick and easy faith, one like picking a bouquet of desert wildflowers that sprang up fast and easy, but would never have any roots and continue to grow.
In Jesus’ time there were no retail florist shops or big floral wholesalers. Remember, however, that his earthly father Joseph was a carpenter and general contractor. Jesus would surely have learned the difference between the price and effort of good workmanship and the consequences of shoddy workmanship.
The parable of the house built on a foundation of rock and the house on sand occurs in both Matthew and Luke after Jesus had delivered the Sermon the Mount. The parable is within a larger body of Jesus’ teaching distinctly warning of the responsibilities and cost of discipleship. Jesus pulls no punches. At this point in Jesus’ ministry, opposition has not yet solidified, but the warning signs are all there. People may still be astounded by Jesus’ teaching, but are not as wildly enthusiastic. It is becoming apparent that Jesus is not going to take them exactly where they wish to go and they are becoming uncomfortable with where Jesus is pointing.
The saga of a man and a woman in the Garden of Eden is a symbol of there being no need for growth, as all needs are quickly and easily provided for. Adam and Eve did not grow, they did not establish roots, they did not have children or produce a future until they lived outside the garden and accepted the responsibilities and consequences of adulthood.
Admittedly we are all tempted on occasion to wish to return to a state of quick and easy satisfaction of all our needs. Much of contemporary advertising is based on appealing to an emotional Garden of Eden immaturity as much as conveying helpful information. Ads of all sorts promise a readily obtainable solution or a carefree existence covering just about everything. I’m sorry to say that in our political life, appeals to the quick and easy satisfaction of immaturity seem to have grown exponentially.
Jesus does not call us back to a Garden of Eden. The call of discipleship is inevitably a call to maturity and the work of developing deep roots. Jesus calls us out to leave our Garden of Edens forever. The road of discipleship will assuredly hold rewards and the vistas will be astounding, but we will have to put effort into it, much like the builder who had to work hard to sink his foundations into rock rather than the lazy one who took the easy way and built on sand.
And I offer this to you in the name of the Living God, Amen.
