Bait and Switch

Reading texts from the prophets is always challenging, but understanding them is well worth the effort. In this sermon, I consider a classic text from Isaiah and examine how it works in the minds of Isaiah's listeners. And that includes us!

Bait and switch. It’s an old trick used by salespeople to bring customers into their store. It works like this. An item is advertised at a very good price: $200, for example, for a very nice refrigerator. The price is so good, in fact, that it gets people’s attention. But that refrigerator is really just the bait. When all those people get to the store, they’re told that that refrigerator has sold out; and would they be interested in another model instead? Of course, this other model costs significantly more. That’s the switch. And once you’re in the store, it can be very hard to resist high pressure sales tactics.

Bait and switch. Get people’s attention by advertising a low-priced item; get them into your store; and then sell them something else at a higher price. It’s a classic sales trick. But you may be surprised to learn that the ancient Israelite prophets used a tactic very similar to this to get people to hear what they had to say. After all, nobody wants to listen to a prophet who might condemn you for what you have done – or haven’t done. This morning’s reading from Isaiah is a great example of this kind of strategy.

For a moment, put yourself in the shoes of a land owner living in Jerusalem way back in about 600 BCE, back in the time of Isaiah. Although you live in the city, you have a little plot of land outside the city gates where you grow wheat or barley or olives. You rely on that land to produce not only enough food to feed your family, but a little bit extra that you can sell at the market. You can’t afford to own land that doesn’t produce anything. On this particular day, you’re out in the streets – maybe on your way to worship in the Temple – and you hear a man on the corner lamenting some bad luck. In particular, he’s complaining about a vineyard. You have a vineyard yourself; and so you stop to listen.

“My poor friend,” he is saying. “He owns a vineyard, and it isn’t doing very well. And it’s not like he hasn’t put any work into it! He spent months getting all the stones cleared off the land; and he spent a ton of money to buy the very best grapevines. He built a winepress so the wine he made would be from the very freshest grapes. Why, he even built a tower in the middle of it so that he could watch to see that nobody stole those grapes! But then, when he was ready to enjoy the wine from his very own grapes – why, that wine was so sour that it made his mouth pucker! What did he do wrong? You tell me – what did he do wrong?? What else could he possibly have done?”

As you listen to his story of woe, you think about your own land. Yes, you cleared stones from your land, too… and bought the very best grapevines… and set up a winepress. What else could he have done? Why, nothing else! That poor man has done all that he possibly could to get a good harvest. And so, the anger that you hear next seems justified, even if it might be a little bit extreme. “I’ll tell you what he’s going to do to that vineyard! He’s so mad that he’s going to rip out all the grapevines and burn them. He’s going to knock down the fence around it so that all kinds of wild animals can root around in it. And if it never sees rain again, so much the better! Good riddance to it!” Yes, you think, why would he waste any more effort on a piece of land that is so disappointing? He’s done all that he can do. Why, I might do the very same thing if it were my land. That vineyard is useless!

Have you recognized the bait? The folks who listened to Isaiah’s story about the vineyard were completely suckered in to agreeing with the farmer’s anger. After all, they had all experienced bad seasons in which all their hard work came to nothing. They all knew the frustration of clearing land, cultivating the soil, and planting the best seeds, only to get nothing for all their efforts. “Mad? You bet I’d be mad, too!” That’s what they’re all thinking by now. But now, after the bait, comes the switch. “This vineyard is YOU!” Isaiah cries. “The Lord God owns this vineyard, and YOU are the grapevines! YOU are the ones who are making God so angry! God expects justice from his people; but what does he get? Violence everywhere! You can’t even live together without causing each other pain and suffering!” Isaiah doesn’t say it in so many words, but surely his audience was thinking it. God has put a lot of effort into the people of Israel. God led them out of Egypt and parted the Red Sea in front of them. God gave them the Law at Mt. Sinai so that they would know what was expected of them. And if that weren’t enough, God sent judges and kings and prophets to interpret that Law. They had no excuses for their behavior.

Bait and switch. Isaiah used it to get through to people who didn’t want to listen to him. He drew them in with a non-threatening story; and then he switched it so that his audience realized they were actually listening to a message that they needed to hear themselves. Preachers do it all the time, too. They get the interest of their congregations by telling stories about Old Testament prophets and people who lived over 2,000 years ago. And just about the time that their listeners start to wonder how in the world those old-time Israelites could be so thick, they make the switch. I’m doing it right now, as a matter of fact. The vineyard belonging to the Lord is the Christian church, and the garden that he loves is all of us. God looks for justice, but sees only violence and hears only cries of pain.

We can’t get away from Isaiah’s message by claiming that it is only history. Oh, it is that – but Isaiah also speaks the word of God to us today. We are God’s vineyard; and God has put even more work into us than he put into the long-ago nation of Israel. God came to us in Jesus Christ to show us by his life what our own lives should look like. Jesus was crucified and resurrected so that our own lives might be rich and full. God sent his own Spirit to guide us in our day-to-day decisions. And what does God ask of us in response? That we strive for justice. That we show mercy. And that we make compassion the very foundation of our lives. But – today, as in long-ago Israel – God weeps as he looks at our world. The courts favor those with money and influence; and the little guy seldom gets a break. Children go to bed with stomachs growling in hunger. Wall Street bankers are paid millions of dollars, while young families can’t afford to buy a home. What’s wrong with us? What part of “Love your neighbor as yourself” don’t we understand?

When I was attending General Synod in June, each session ended with theological reflections on the actions that we had just taken. In one such session, we were reminded that we middle-class Americans wield the most power of almost anyone in the world. We have the power of free speech. We have the power of the pen. And we certainly have the power to change our own behavior! And God wants us to use that power – to use it to speak up for the oppressed, to share the stories of those who have no voice, and to behave like followers of Jesus Christ ought to behave!

What would happen if we all did just that? What would happen if we all resisted violence and suffering with our voices, our pens, and our very lives? I’ll tell you what would happen. The wine from our vineyard would be sweet and rich and flavorful. It would be the very best wine, as good as the wine that Jesus offered at the wedding in Cana. Sour grapes? Not here! And God would look at us in pride and say, “This is my vineyard! I am so proud of it!”

 

Like a Breath

The book of Ecclesiastes is surprisingly modern. It considers questions that many people ask all the time: Who are we, anyway? Why is life worth living? Is anything permanent? This sermon considers the last question. Ecclesiastes says that everything is like a breath -- here one day and gone tomorrow. If that is the case, what can we rely on? This sermon offers an answer.
 

The book of Ecclesiastes is to the Bible as a formal gown is to a county fair. It just doesn’t seem to belong there! Its thinking is so different from any other Biblical book that many people wonder how it was ever included in the Old Testament in the first place! Here’s how different the book of Ecclesiastes is. What doesn’t belong in this group? Puppy… kitten… bunny rabbit… rhinoceros. Of course, all four are animals. But putting a rhinoceros right next to three fluffy, cuddly little critters just doesn’t seem right. That’s how many people feel about Ecclesiastes. It does talk about God… a few times. And it certainly considers the meaning of life, which is certainly a suitable topic for the Bible. But while the Psalms and the Proverbs and even the book of Job affirm that life is good, and believe that justice ultimately prevails, Ecclesiastes doesn’t buy any of it. It’s the “minority report” of Old Testament wisdom literature.

Everything that Ecclesiastes believes is built on the Hebrew word “hevel.” It is used three times in the first verse, and almost 40 times in the entire book (which, by the way, is only 12 chapters long). “Hevel” is translated a variety of different ways depending on which Bible you’re reading.

·      The King James Bible translates it as “vanity,” and so does the New Revised Standard Version.

·      The New International Version translates it as “meaningless.”.

·      The New English Bible translates it as “emptiness,” while the Jewish Publication Society translates it as “futility.”

·      Possibly the best translation is the one that Eugene Peterson used in his Bible paraphrase The Message. He translates “hevel” as “smoke.”

The Hebrew word “hevel” literally means “vapor.” When you go outside on a cold day and you can see your breath, that’s “hevel.” The steam that comes out of a pot of boiling water is “hevel,” and so is the smoke rising from a campfire. “Hevel” is mist. You can see it, but you can’t touch it. And it’s brief – very, very brief. At best, you can see “hevel” for a couple of seconds. After that, it dissolves into the air around it. That’s why it seems to me that “brief” would be the best way to translate this Hebrew word that is so full of shades of meaning.

Ecclesiastes claims that everything we do and even who we are is “hevel.” Listen to the list of things that Ecclesiastes identifies as “hevel.” Wealth and possessions are “hevel.” So are all our great plans, as well as the fame that sometimes results from them. Youth and strength are “hevel,” and so is beauty. Even wisdom is “hevel,” and certainly our own lives are, too. All of them are “hevel” – very, very brief. And Ecclesiastes has a point. Remembering that everything we have and everything we do is “hevel” is not a bad thing.

Lots of people seem to forget that these days, don’t they? They worry about money like it will help them live forever. They accumulate “stuff” as though having enough of it will make them the winners at the game of life. (Have you seen the bumper sticker that says, “The one who dies with the most toys wins”? That’s their philosophy of life in 9 words!) They have a horror of aging, and so they spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on Botox treatments and face lifts and tummy tucks. And they jump on each self-help fad with an energy that can only be described as desperate. They want to keep themselves forever young and healthy, and be rich and beautiful. And, of course, it never happens. It can’t happen! Every king, emperor, or pharaoh who ever lived died in the end. Yes, everyone’s life is brief… and no one has ever figured out how to take it with them. Not one.

It makes me wonder what the author of Ecclesiastes would say to us if he (or she) were here today. Perhaps he (or she) would give us some advice.

First, put things in their proper perspective. If everything is “hevel,” then it is foolishness to rely on it too much. Wealth, possessions, fame, health – all of it is “hevel,” and one day it will all be gone. Isaiah asks us, “Why do you work for things that don’t satisfy?” (Isaiah 55:2a), and Ecclesiastes would echo that question. Relying on money or fame or good looks is like relying on smoke! Now, to be sure, none of these things are bad. Ecclesiastes doesn’t say that. In fact, they are gifts from God. “Go, eat your food with gladness,” advises Ecclesiastes (9:7-9). “Drink your wine with a joyful heart. Always be clothed in white, and always anoint your head with oil. Enjoy life with your spouse, whom you love, all the days of this brief life that God has given you under the sun – all your brief days.” I’d say that’s pretty good advice. And it’s also good advice to remember that none of it will last forever.

Second, we should put ourselves in proper perspective, too. Lots of people think that they’re pretty important. You know the type. In their opinion, if something happened to them, the sun might not rise tomorrow. Well, Ecclesiastes begs to differ. Wall Street banker or housewife, rock star or homeless man, four-star general or fourth grader – not a one of us is indispensable! Our lives are brief, and the world keeps right on going whether or not we are in it. So, what’s the good news, preacher? If our lives are so short and we’re so unimportant, what’s the point of doing anything? Why not just give up?

Well, that’s certainly the conclusion that some folks come to. But not Ecclesiastes. As brief as our lives may be, Ecclesiastes reminds us that those lives are bound up in God – and God is the one thing in our lives that is not “hevel”! That may be the most important advice that the author of Ecclesiastes would offer us if he (or she) were here today. God is the one constant that we can rely on, no matter who we are and no matter what our situation may be. Our lives are like a breath that appears one moment and vanishes the next; but God is from everlasting to everlasting, more reliable than the mountains. And because God is reliable, we never need to worry about what will happen to us from one minute to the next. Now, we let’s have no illusions – life is not easy. The author of Ecclesiastes would be the first to agree with that. But he (or she) would also be the first to remind us that bad times don’t last. Bad times don’t stay around forever! They are “hevel,” too. And God is here with us, no matter what happens. God is truly our Rock, the One on whom we can always rely.

“Hevel.” Vapor… mist… smoke… like a breath. Yes, that’s what we humans are. But thanks be to God that God is anything but “hevel”! How does Isaiah put it? “All people are like grass, and their glory is like the flowers of the field. The grass withers and the flower fades, but the word of our God will endure forever.” (Isaiah 40:6b, 8)