This Generation

July 5, 2020  Fifth Sunday after Pentecost

Church of the Redeemer, Chestnut Hill, Massachusetts

The Rev. Nancy E. Gossling

Psalm 145:8-15

Romans 7:15-25a

Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30

It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to one another,
‘We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we wailed, and you did not mourn.’

            In the gospel of Matthew, the disciples grow increasingly clueless. And the scribes and Pharisees, that is the interpreters and keepers of the law, are repeatedly and publicly denounced by Jesus, who is pretty vocal in his challenges to his own people. As for “this generation” Jesus calls them faithless and corrupt, evil and adulterous, faithless and perverse, greedy and self indulgent. He also describes them as blind guides and a brood of vipers. This generation, he says, is like that.

We gather today from many generations: Alpha, Centennials, Millennials, Generation X, and Baby Boomers. The Silent and Greatest Generations, the Interbellum and the Lost ones. I wonder, to which generation, do you belong?  What was your experience, strength, and hope? And what is your legacy? I also wonder what Jesus would say about this generation today? How would he describe us right now?

            This generation, Jesus said to the crowd, can be compared to children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to one another. They played the flute and yet no one danced. They wailed in grief and yet no one mourned. It was as if everyone around them was numb or deaf. It was as if these children were orphans, abandoned by their parents, and sold to human traffickers. Whatever these children said or did, no one responded to them.

This generation, Jesus said to the crowd, is faithless. It wasn’t growing nearer to God. In fact they were moving away. They refused to listen to the prophets who challenged them, asking them to think about what they were doing, and why. It didn’t matter which prophet spoke, whether it was John the Baptist or Jesus, the crowds would not listen. Instead, they criticized them. They called them names. John was a crazy man. Jesus was a drunk.

This generation of Jews had various social, political, and religious groups, which had many reputations throughout our scripture stories. The scribes and Pharisees were “the bad guys” in Matthew’s gospel; they were well educated and considered the rule-keepers of their community. The Zealots were the proverbial rioters and looters, passionate in their beliefs, and willing to break some things to make their point. The Essenes were overly focussed on purity, often distancing themselves socially from others. And the Sadducees were famous for not believing in the resurrection. Meanwhile, the simple, pious, and faithful Jews often didn’t make the headlines. They probably weren’t those who were heckling Jesus; rather they were asking him for help.

Some people in this generation are like children in the marketplaces today, calling to the crowds, playing their flutes, and asking us to dance. They party all night long in the city streets of Seattle, refusing to let the police respond to victims of gun violence. “It’s a free country and we have our rights,” they say, as business owners and local residents grow increasingly frustrated.

Some people aren’t dancing to these tunes of freedom; in fact they are outraged at what is happening. They hear people in the marketplaces wailing with grief when children are killed in the streets of Chicago and New York, jobs are lost, people get sick, and we all grow increasingly fearful. We have endured the loss of civility, the lack of human decency, and a disregard for disciplined behavior for too long. “Enough!” we cry. This generation is like children who have not grown up, who are not playing with flutes, but rather with fire.

            William Barclay explains it this way. “Jesus was saddened by the sheer perversity of human nature. To him, people seemed to be like children playing in the village square. No matter what was suggested, they did not want to do it; and no matter what was offered, they found a fault in it.” (end quote) Such is a society which values political opportunities over productive solutions. Such is a society that values “me” over “us.” It is a house divided, rather than a nation united, despite the claims that “we’re in this together.”

            Jesus was saddened by what he saw in his own generation. He accused the Pharisees of being hypocrites because they neglected the weightier matters of justice, mercy, and faith, straining out gnats while swallowing camels. He claimed that these religious leaders did not practice what they preached; they placed burdens on others without lifting their fingers to help. They made big shows in public, offered grand speeches, vied for places of honor, while their homes and cities burned. They were spiritually empty, and morally corrupt. This generation is like a bunch of immature children, Jesus said to the crowd.

“If we had lived in the days of our ancestors, we would not have taken part in shedding the blood of the prophets,” some people told Jesus.  How easy it is for any of us to claim that we would have behaved differently in the past under certain circumstances. “No way,” we say. “We would not have beheaded John the Baptist nor crucified Jesus. We would not have shot MLK or JFK. Slaves and women would never have been denied their right to vote, and we would never have gone to war. We would have listened to the prophets. And never, ever would we have abused our power or put a knee on someone’s neck.”

And yet, and yet, we are all guilty. We ignore prophets who speak uncomfortable truths; and we distance ourselves from the painful realities of our lives. We confess that we have sinned in our thoughts, words, and deeds; we have erred and strayed like lost sheep. We realize that we participate in systems that we created in our country and are in need of reform. Although our hearts were created by God to love, we confess to feelings of hate. “Few people can be happy unless they hate some other person, nation, or creed,” Bertrand Russell once wrote.

We know that hate will harden our hearts, and that confession is good for our souls. Occasionally we are held captive to sin, as St. Paul confesses in his letter to the Romans. Inevitably, we will think, or say, or do the very things we hate. Sitting on the Supreme Court of my own personal kingdom, wearing the white robe of my privilege, I judge other human beings unfairly. I forget that each and every one of us, including the people I hate, are unique and beloved children of God. I remember that only God sits in that seat of judgment.

During these past six months, I found that I had become increasingly irritable, distracted, critical, and judgmental. Demon possessed like John, eating and drinking like Jesus, I felt like I was going crazy. Invisible forces will affect us, like COVID 19. Unjust systems will affect us, like systemic racism. When we’re dancing to the wrong music, or playing games unfairly, we sin. And so, like St. Paul, in despair, we may cry, “Wretched people that we are! Who can save us from this body of death?”

Sanity is when we face the truth of our feelings and the reality of our lives, making changes as needed. These are crazy-making times! Our feelings are like a rainbow of colors, a combination of sun and rain, of darkness and light. Sanity is when we can sing and dance with happiness and cry and wail with grief, and don’t repeat the behaviors that failed us before. Radical events, like the murder of George Floyd, help us to hear the cries of our children in the marketplaces, and the prophets’ calls to repent.

When we come to believe that we are powerless over the cunning and baffling diseases of this generation, we will turn to God for help. Turning our lives and our wills over to the care of God brings us true freedom. When we make conscious contact with God through prayer and meditation, we are restored to sanity and empowered to act faithfully. “Call me crazy,” a friend recently reported, “but I felt all those prayers you said for me.”

Today, we hear Jesus say to us, “Come to me, and I will refresh you.”  If we sit quietly long enough, we will find a peace that passes all understanding. With God back in the center of our lives, listening to that still small voice within us, we know that the Spirit will guide our thoughts, words, and actions. We will have the courage to change. And it will be good. When we clear our minds, clean up our acts, and carry messages of hope, we will begin to restore our souls and rebuild our systems.

Jesus knows our weariness, and the heavy burdens that we carry; and so He invites the crowd to put on the yoke that is easy. Referring to the Torah, he reminds the crowd about their covenant with God, a way of life that is embodied in a set of moral and religious obligations and civil laws. And what about this generation? I asked myself. What yokes have we put around our necks? And what will history eventually call us?

We are the crowd to whom Jesus is speaking today. This generation is us. Our children are in the marketplaces, and playing their flutes. Will we dance with them? Our children are in the marketplaces mourning their losses. Will we cry with them? As grown-ups, will we uphold the weightier matters of justice, mercy, and faith? And with God’s help, will we put on the yoke of God’s commandments, and maintain our baptismal promises. When we persevere with faith, we will never forget that in the end Love Wins, and so will we; for we’re in this together. Amen.