Christ the Lego - Matthew 21:33-46
Is it me, or are children’s toys getting more complex and sophisticated all the time? Take Legos, for example. The young people in my life engage in hi-tech play with Legos that borders on structural engineering. I’ve been informed that I’m not intelligent enough to participate, because I put one too many pieces where they decidedly did not belong. I was previously unaware that playing with blocks was equivalent to solving a puzzle, and I’m clearly an old fuddy-duddy for thinking there’s room to be creative in this activity. And apparently, I whine too much when I step on a rogue Lego with bare feet.
Maybe I am a little old fashioned, but I remember the days of plain, painted, hardwood blocks. Perhaps some of you played with them or provided a set for your children. A set of these blocks included a variety of colors and shapes like cubes and cylinders. But often, the set of blocks contained an outlier: an arch with a flat bottom and a rounded top. This block was not easy or fun to build with, because no other blocks could be stacked on top of it. Plus there were typically only one or two of these wooden arches in the set, so it was also difficult to use them in a pattern.
But as any child will tell you, there’s nothing more frustrating, when creating an architectural masterpiece, than using every block in a set except one. Therefore, in order to incorporate the curvy and unusual block in a building project, you’ve got to change your strategy. You have to prioritize the arched block and arrange the rest of the blocks accordingly. Essentially, the block that the frustrated child at first rejects has to become the chief cornerstone.
This morning we’re back in the thick of it with Matthew’s Gospel. At the beginning of today’s chapter, Jesus made his triumphal entry into Jerusalem. As the crucifixion draws closer, the stakes get higher, and the teachings and proclamations more urgent. With the parable of the wicked tenants, I think Jesus wanted his listeners to squirm a bit, and I think he succeeds, even to this day.
This parable appears in Matthew, Mark, and Luke, and scholars and people of faith have gone back and forth about how to interpret it. You probably won’t be shocked to learn that I’ve always been tempted to read it as support for union workers with absentee bosses who exploit them. But also in each Gospel, Jesus follows up the parable with a powerful quote from Isaiah, “the stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone; this was the Lord’s doing, and it is amazing in our eyes.”
Remembering our young architects and their strange, curvy blocks, we can use this proclamation as a way into the parable. We can understand that we, too, will have to change our strategy in order to truly hear the story of the wicked tenants and how it speaks to our lives today. And when it comes to strategy, Matthew is an expert. As Kate reminded us last week, in Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus speaks openly about issues of authority, even and especially within earshot of the very authority figures he references, from prominent families to religious leaders, to Roman occupiers, all of whom, at one time or another, wield their power over the poor and vulnerable in their communities.
It should come as no surprise then, that when Jesus asks the pharisees in the crowd what they think the landowner will do to the tenants who have attacked his envoys and co-opted his property, the pharisees assume that the landowner will exact his righteous vengeance upon them. At the same time, it would have come as no surprise to the poor and vulnerable in the crowd to hear the landowner described as violent and oppressive. Because this is the way power and authority work in their world: those who have it have every right to exploit those who don’t.
But with his recitation of Isaiah’s words about the cornerstone, Jesus tells the crowd, in so many words, “you’re missing the point.” Throughout his Gospel, Matthew describes, over and over again, a type of leadership, a type of kingship, a type of authority that is not only different, but that is the complete antithesis of what the Pharisees aim to maintain. Think of the wealthy man who invites those living on the street near his mansion to celebrate his daughter’s wedding, or the landowner from two weeks ago who forgives a massive debt.
In Matthew, Jesus wants the people to hear and see that God is doing something different in the world. God is a God of grace and mercy and love and that this kind of authority, this kind of kingship, is one we should trust and obey and give our lives over to. But in order to do this, we’ve got to rework our entire structure of power and authority to reflect the kind that God shows to us. We’ve got to make God’s gracious and merciful power the cornerstone of our understanding and our actions in the world.
When we don’t, we are the wicked tenants, refusing to engage with a God who continues to send prophet after prophet, and even a Son, our way. We could keep trying to fit God’s message into the way we want to organize our lives, or we can rearrange our lives around God. The choice is ours, and the message of the strange and curvy block is clear: the challenge we want to reject has to become the cornerstone.
Now anytime I preach a sermon about centering God in our lives, I feel compelled to clarify. Not everyone needs to quit their jobs and join a monastery or get a quote from Isaiah tattooed across their foreheads. If you do feel called to such an extreme of either austerity or flamboyance, that’s beautiful. But making Christ your cornerstone doesn’t have to be performative in this way. What’s most important is listening for and responding to God who calls us to tend a vineyard. What’s most important is what kind of tenant we are with the gifts God has given us in our time on earth.
Perhaps God has placed you in a vineyard to raise children, to create art, or, as in my case, to tend a flock. Perhaps God has given you a passion for environmentalism or medicine or politics. Perhaps each of us has been tasked, however briefly with caring for Christ Church. As we move through our master planning process, as we approach stewardship season, the holidays, and the start of a new year together, let us remember that we are all tenants in the vineyard of this holy place. How will we rearrange our blocks so that Christ is the chief cornerstone? How will we heed the call of the prophets to offer the fruit of our labor to God while we can? Amen.