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Sermon for Septuagesima
1 Corinthians 9:24-10:5 + Matthew 20:1-16
Two and a half weeks from today, the Lenten season begins, at the far side of which, roughly 70 days from now, stands Easter Sunday. We have a lot of ground to cover between here and there as we follow Jesus in earnest to receive His teaching and His salvation. And today’s Scripture Lessons provide the necessary first step in that journey. From two different angles, they both tackle the vice that lies at the root of all other vices, that sin that’s so easy to recognize in others, but almost impossible to recognize in ourselves, that’s so ugly when displayed by your neighbor, but nearly invisible when you look in the mirror. It’s the vice we call Pride.
Pride is competitive by nature. It wants to outdo others. It wants to be recognized above others, as having done a better job, as being more deserving of reward. And so Pride is, by definition, self-centered, which is why it’s such a deadly sin, because if you are the center of your thoughts and desires, then not only is there no room in your heart for your neighbor; there’s no room there for God.
C.S. Lewis once suggested that the easiest way to diagnose how proud you are is to ask yourself how much it bothers you when other people act proud around you, or, when you don’t get the recognition you think you deserve for the work you’ve done or for the sacrifices you’ve made.
Isn’t that what happened in today’s Gospel, in Jesus’ parable of the tenants? The owner of the vineyard went out early and hired some who ended up working a 12-hour day. He went out again and again throughout the day, hiring others, who worked either a little or a lot less than 12 hours. Some of them worked only one hour. He had agreed to pay the 12-hour workers one denarius at the end of the day, and they were happy with that—until they saw all the other workers, even those who worked only one hour—receiving the same one denarius for their work. They expected to receive more—more than they themselves had agreed to! And when they didn’t receive more, they were angry. These last men have worked only one hour, and you made them equal to us who have borne the burden and the heat of the day.
And so their Pride was revealed. And it was ugly, wasn’t it? The owner of the vineyard sure thought so. Friend, I am doing you no wrong. Did you not agree with me for a denarius? Take what is yours and go your way. I wish to give to this last man the same as to you. Is it not lawful for me to do what I wish with my own things? Or is your eye evil because I am good?’
That’s the problem with Pride. Even when you get what you deserve, you’re still angry because someone else is getting the same good things you’re getting, “Because,” you think, “they didn’t deserve it! Now I deserve even more!”
Jesus’ disciples may have fallen into such Pride, especially after what Jesus had told them in the verses just before our text: And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or wife or children or lands, for My name’s sake, shall receive a hundredfold, and inherit eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and the last first. Jesus promised great rewards to His Twelve Apostles and to all who sacrifices much for His sake. But what of those who don’t sacrifice as much? What of those who don’t labor as long in His vineyard? What of those who have lived in sin their whole lives, indulging their flesh, living outside the Church? What will they receive if they are brought to repentance and faith, if they are brought into the Christian Church late in life? Will they receive a hundredfold and eternal life, too? Will they receive the same reward I will receive? That’s not fair!
Yes, Pride is very concerned with “fairness.” But God would remind you today that “fairness” would mean your eternal condemnation. If God treated you as you deserve, then He would judge you according to the strictness of His holy Law, and you would fail miserably. Because His Law doesn’t compare you with other people. It compares you with God. It explores all your thoughts and motives. It reveals how bothered you are when you don’t get recognized for the work you’ve done, or when others get recognized who haven’t done as much. It finds Pride in you and condemns you for it.
That condemnation should produce the opposite of Pride in you. In should produce humility. Humility looks outward, not inward. Humility looks up, not down. It doesn’t look for repayment based on merit; it hopes for mercy, based on the grace of the Giver. And God is rich in mercy and grace. He gave His Son to us, so that He could earn God’s favor for us, so that He could merit eternal life for the unworthy and suffer and die the death that proud people actually deserve.
God has called you into His vineyard, which is the Church. He has washed away your sins in Holy Baptism and given you work to do in His kingdom, until the end of the day, when Christ returns to give you even far more than you could ever have in this life. Don’t let Pride keep you receiving God’s gift of eternal life. Because, if at the end of your life you find yourself despising God’s grace to others, thinking that you do actually deserve something from Him, then you will have fallen from grace yourself, and you will hear the tragic, “Go your way!” from God.
It’s that very thing that the Apostle Paul writes about to the Corinthians in today’s Epistle. They had many gifts in Corinth—so many gifts, that they began to think very highly of themselves, comparing themselves with others. They began to think that they were secure in God’s kingdom, no matter what, that they stood firm. Nothing could possibly jeopardize their salvation. Yes, Pride was a real danger in Corinth.
But what does Paul tell them? Even he, a chosen Apostle of Christ Jesus, didn’t dare become proud. I discipline my body and bring it into subjection, lest, when I have preached to others, I myself should become disqualified. And then he points them to the example of the Old Testament Israelites, who also thought they stood firm in God’s kingdom. After all, He had just rescued them from the slavery of Egypt and brought them safely through the Red Sea with Moses. But what happened to them? In their Pride, they became so secure that they thought they could go ahead and make a golden calf for themselves and bow down to it, that they could ignore the very First Commandment that God had just given them. The result? God put tens of thousands of them to death, so that they their bodies were scattered in the wilderness.
What’s the antidote for such Pride? First, a hard look in the mirror of God’s holy Law, where you are forced to compare yourself with God and realize how far short you fall of His glory. There in the Law you find out that there is no place for the proud in God’s kingdom. Second, an urgent appeal to the Throne of Grace, seeking God’s mercy, not for your sake, but for Christ’s sake, who earned God’s favor for you. To those who trust in Christ, God gives the forgiveness of sins and promises the reward of eternal life at the end of the day. And He does promise to reward your work and give you far more than you have ever sacrificed for Him. But He reminds you to seek Him by grace, for Christ’s sake, not to focus on how much work you’ve done. And then St. Paul tells you how to labor in the vineyard from now on: Do you not know that those who run in a race all run, but one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may obtain it.
Live your Christian life as one who is running a race, as if competing for the prize, recognizing that the prize only goes to the one who comes in first, so you want to come in first. Now, Pride likes competition, but you’re not actually competing with other people for the prize. Everyone runs his own race. The point of St. Paul’s analogy is that, to reach the end of your life still clinging to Christ in faith requires effort, requires discipline. Not that it all depends on you; it doesn’t. God Himself provides the Means of Grace and the Holy Spirit and the strength you need to run. But, as a Christian, you do have to run.
That means bodily discipline. It means regular prayer. Fasting is OK, too, and has been used by Christians over the ages as a form of bodily discipline. Running the race to win also means time each day for Bible reading and for Catechism review. It means going out of your way to help someone, whether it’s at the soup kitchen or here at the Church. It means, if you’re able, you come to Bible class as well as the Divine Service, and to the services in between, too. It probably means less Facebook. Less TV. Less time in front of a screen. More exercise, eating better, and certainly eating and drinking the Lord’s body and blood in Holy Communion whenever possible.
All of these things are useful for warding off that inborn vice called Pride, which still threatens to turn Christians from loving God to loving themselves. But we have the powerful Word of Jesus in today’s Gospel and in today’s Epistle to keep us running in the right direction, to keep us focused on the God who has given us His Son and has called us into His vineyard, where He daily hands out, freely and generously, the forgiveness of sins, life and salvation. Amen.