20th
Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 23A)
Isaiah 25.1-9
St. Gregory’s, Long Beach
Live Streamed
on Parish Facebook page (beginning at 25:35)
In
last week’s sermon, we focused on the image of Israel being a vineyard and of
God being the one who cares for the vineyard, particularly as presented in the
parable of the wicked tenants. As I unpacked that parable, I noted that in
using a vineyard as location for his parable, Jesus was invoking more than just
the image of Israel as a vineyard. He was calling to mind an oracle from the
Prophet Isaiah—part of which was our Old Testament reading from last week—that
foretold the destruction of Israel by the Assyrian Empire in the eighth century
BC and the events that followed. Significant and painful events in the life and
history of the people. All told in an oracle that used the image of the
destruction of the vineyard. The final verse of last week’s passage from Isaiah
reads: “For the vineyard of the Lord of hosts is the house of Israel, and the
people of Judah are his pleasant planting; he expected justice, but saw
bloodshed; righteousness, but heard a cry!” (Is 5.7).
As
we read those words in our worship service last Sunday, that ancient oracle of
an event that occurred 2,700 years ago was once again playing out. The vineyard
that is the nation of Israel once again ran with blood. The inhabitants of the
vineyard again cried out in pain, cried out for justice. And over this past
week, we have all seen on the news the horrific images and heard the
heartbreaking stories coming out of Israel and Gaza. Parts of the vineyard
aflame. Parts of the vineyard reduced to rubble. And in the process, so many of
God’s beloved children injured. So many of God’s beloved children left
homeless. So many of God’s beloved children lying dead in the streets. And
looming over it all, the fear that this may only be the beginning.
To
say that the situation in Israel-Palestine is complicated would be a serious
understatement. The conflict currently being played out in the Israel-Hamas War
is merely one in a long string of disagreements, conflicts, and wars that have
been going on for millennia. A conflict that began in the second millennium BC
with Abraham and concerns over who would be heir to God’s promise that
Abraham’s descendants would possess the land that we now know as Israel—Isaac,
the son of Abraham and his wife Sarah, whose descendants would become the
Jewish people; or Ishmael, the older son of Abraham and the slave Hagar, whose
descendants would include the Prophet Mohammed, the founder of Islam.
Attempting to solve the problem, Abraham sent Hagar and Ishmael away, presuming
Isaac and his descendants to be the sole heir to God’s promise.
But
that did not solve the problem. The conflict would resurface, in a different
form, when the Hebrews, the descendants of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, left
Egypt and settled in the Promised Land, which happened to be occupied by the
Canaanites—whose descendants include the modern-day Palestinians.
And
the conflict would resurface in modern times with plans following World War II
to create Jewish and Palestinian homelands on land they have both held, both
controlled, and that they have been arguing over, for nearly 3,500 years. A
plan that was never fully implemented. Israel got their homeland, but the
Palestinians are still waiting for theirs. An argument that has been playing
out ever since in a series of wars, conflicts, terrorist activities, and
endless political negotiations. Never reaching a satisfactory solution. Least
of all for the Palestinians, who have been relegated to a situation that can
only be described as apartheid. So, once again, the vineyard is aflame. Once
again, the vineyard runs with blood. Once again, the inhabitants of the
vineyard cry out in pain, cry out for justice.
Although,
this time, the conflict has taken an even darker turn. What is happening even
as we speak is not the usual interactions, the occasional violent actions,
between Israel and the Palestinians. These are the actions of a radical
terrorist organization that, while comprised of Palestinians, do not speak for
or represent the sentiments of all Palestinians. Far from it. The actions of
Hamas—which I certainly will not enumerate, as none of us need those images in
our heads—the actions of these terrorists can only be characterized as pure
evil. Actions against their sworn enemy, Israel, but also actions that are
indiscriminately harming their fellow Palestinians.
That
is the history, the substance, of what is happening right now in Israel. Why do
I bring this into a sermon? Because the vineyard that is aflame, the vineyard
that is running with blood, is our spiritual ancestral home. That vineyard is
the home of our Lord Jesus Christ. It is the place that formed who he was, what
he did, what he taught. It is the place and the people for which he was willing
to go to the cross so that they—so that we—might be saved. As the cradle of our
Christian religion—the largest religion in the world, the religion that
particularly shapes the morals and values for western nations, including our
own—what happens in the vineyard of our spiritual birth has the potential to
impact us, as well. And being the cradle for the three Abrahamic faiths, a land
that has been in dispute for millennia, what happens in the tiny plot of land
called Israel certainly has potential ramifications for the fate of the entire
world.
So,
what do we do? What can we do? I, probably like you, feel at a loss. Seeming
that all we can do is watch the nightly news, read the newsfeeds, and feel
overwhelmed. And if you are like me, there are times that all that can be done
is to weep. To weep because of the horrific and barbaric actions we witness. To
weep in solidarity with fellow people of faith—be they Christians, Jews, or
Muslims.
I
want to share with you the pastoral letter written by our Bishop earlier this
week. He starts his letter with the quote from Isaiah that I quoted at the
beginning of this sermon: “For the vineyard of the Lord of hosts is the house
of Israel, and the people of Judah are his pleasant planting; he expected
justice, but saw bloodshed; righteousness, but heard a cry!” Bishop Taylor then
continues with the letter proper:
My siblings in Christ:
I know you join me in lamenting and grieving the devastating
losses resulting from Hamas’ savage, unjustifiable terrorist attack against
Israel beginning on Saturday, the 50th anniversary of the Yom Kippur
War. By Wednesday, Israeli and Palestinian deaths had exceeded 2,300.
As followers of the Prince of Peace, our first and best instinct
is to pray, and pray hard: For those who have died and been injured; for those
most at risk from continued violence; and for all who have the power to end the
suffering by ending the violence.
We also lament every missed opportunity for an equitable peace in
Israel and Palestine, year after year, epoch on epoch, that could have kept
this outrage from the pages of history. We pray for the transfiguration of the
agony of these terrible days into a relentless determination among leaders of
good faith to make sure it never happens again. Experts on multigenerational
conflicts say they end only when the suffering becomes unendurable to all
sides. That this may be such a moment in Israel and Palestine is the moment’s
only salutary feature.
This is not the time to make political points beyond saying that
all in the region deserve freedom, peace, security, and national
self-determination. It can be done, if everyone gives something up. This
includes those of us observing from a distance who love the Holy Land, follow
its politics, and are passionate about our views. It is time for us to lower
our voices and stop choosing sides.
At the same time, as people of faith, let us stand our ground on
the immorality of murdering noncombatants and taking hostages. No historic
grievance or trauma can justify what Hamas did. By the same token, Israel must
do all it can to spare civilians in the hours, days, and weeks ahead.
As we pray for peace, seek wisdom, and hold power to account, let
us keep a special place in our hearts for The Episcopal Diocese of Jerusalem
and its archbishop, the Rt. Rev. Hosam Naoum, our Episcopal Diocese of Los
Angeles keynoter last year at convention and a respected leader in the Arab
Christian community in Palestine. I’ve written to him on the diocese’s behalf,
offering prayers and support. For his sake and the sake of all whom he serves
so faithfully, always preaching peace with justice, reconciliation, and the
power of Jesus’s love, please join me in making a gift to American Friends of
the Episcopal Diocese of Jerusalem, which supports the Ahli Arab Hospital in
Gaza City.
Yours in Christ’s love,
The Rt. Rev. John Harvey Taylor
VII Bishop of Los Angeles[i]
We
do not know how what is happening right now in the vineyard that is Israel, the
vineyard that is Gaza, will play out. Will it be destroyed as in Isaiah’s
prophecy, or will it be spared as in Jesus’ parable of the wicked tenants? As
people descended from that vineyard, all we can do, as our Bishop notes, is to
pray and to provide whatever support we can to help God’s beloved children who
are impacted by these atrocities. And to hold on to hope. That is the message
we hear in our Old Testament reading for today. Another passage from the
Prophet Isaiah. As is typical in such apocalyptic literature as the Book of
Isaiah, oracles of doom and destruction as we heard last week are generally
followed with promises of hope. With words looking forward to and celebrating
redemption for the righteous who are God’s beloveds. As we hear in today’s
passage from Isaiah:
On this mountain the Lord
of hosts will make for all peoples [for ALL peoples]
a feast of
rich food, a feast of well-aged wines,
of rich food
filled with marrow, of well-aged wines strained clear.
And he will destroy on this mountain
the shroud
that is cast over all peoples,
the sheet
that is spread over all nations; [ALL nations]
he will
swallow up death forever.
Then the Lord God
will wipe away the tears from all faces,
and the
disgrace of his people he will take away from all the earth,
for the Lord has spoken.
As
members of the Body of Christ, as followers of the Prince of Peace, as those
spiritually rooted in the vineyard that is Israel-Palestine, this is our hope
and our prayer for all of us. Especially for our sisters and brothers—be they
Christians, Jews, or Muslims—who still reside in and call that ancient vineyard
home.
I
want to conclude with a prayer written by the Right Reverend Deon K. Johnson,
Bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of Missouri:
Cry out! Cry out!
O God, what shall we cry?
Cry out for justice, cry out for love.
Cry out for hope, cry out for mercy.
Cry out for kindness, cry out for compassion.
Let everything that hath breath, cry out!
What shall we cry?
Cry out for peace! Amen.[ii]
[i]
The Episcopal News Update October 15, via email on October 11, 2023.
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