|
|
"The Sweet and the
Sour"
Ezekiel 18:1-9, 25-29
A Sermon Preached by the Rev.
Douglas M. Donley
We
have an apple tree in our back yard. It
is a miserable old tree. It has never
really yielded any fruit. I’ve cut back
branches and pruned and trimmed, but it never seems to make any
difference. If there was any fruit on it
at all, they were little tiny apple-lets no bigger than a cherry that fell in
early June. A few years ago, there were
two apples that made it to August, but they were nothing to speak of.
This
year, something different happened. The
tree is full of fruit. Maybe it’s
because we lost a tree a few years ago in a storm and the sorry old apple tree
finally has the sun it needs to mature.
We have been picking up apples from the ground since late June. We initially threw these over the back fence,
but there were so dang many of them. I
tasted these green apples and they were sour and tart. With a lot of sugar, they might just be good
for applesauce at some point. We have
been putting the least bruised in a bucket in the back yard. Sour is a taste that lasts a long time and is
not easily overcome.
The scripture from the prophet Ezekiel begins with
this proverb: “The parents have eaten sour grapes and the children’s teeth are
set on edge.” “Sour grapes” is a phrase that seems to imply
whining. We belittle people when we say they have a case of sour grapes. Luckily, I have not heard such an insulting
thing said about the unions preparing to go on strike. Even if there is enough ugliness to make
one’s face scrunch up, saying someone has sour grapes is a way of not taking
their concerns seriously. It’s a way of
dismissing their situation. “Oh, it’s
just a case of sour grapes.” And yet,
in a more literal sense, sour grapes will not make for sweet wine, no matter
how much sugar you add.
We all long for sweetness between us. But it’s hard to find that
sweetness amidst some sour grapes.
Sweetness can be a synonym for peace.
But like a raisin in the sun, the sweetness can ferment, turn to
sourness and as Langston Hughes suggested, “explode.”
Think for a moment about the sourness in our world:
·
47
million US Americans without health insurance.
·
Tens of
thousands of people without homes two years after hurricane Katrina.
·
Almost
4000 dead and countless thousands of Iraqis dead and no seeming end in sight.
·
The
culture that so stigmatizes homosexuality that people are so fearful that they
will settle for anonymous and clandestine encounters in bathrooms.
·
A state
where stadiums are built, but bridges are not repaired, education funding does
not keep pace with inflation or demand and libraries are closed.
·
Immigrants
and other minorities are continually demonized.
·
The rich
continue to get richer and the poor get poorer.
·
The IMF
and the World Bank set social policy for third world countries, promoting
privatization and banning labor unions.
The stockholders rejoice while the poor eat sour fruit.
Clearly, there are enough sour grapes to go around.
Ezekiel was facing a time and a people that were not sweet to each
other. They passed their sourness on to
succeeding generations and then projected their sour outlook onto God. Ezekiel called upon all people to live their
lives by righteousness, justice, mercy and peace. But he added a bit to this saying that we are
all responsible for our actions, no matter what sour grapes our parents have
fed us.
Prophets challenged the world view of the people. Moses had given the law to the people and said
that the sin (the sour grapes) of the parents would be visited upon their
children for three generations. That
meant that you were doomed if your parents did bad. If you came from bad seed, you were destined
to a life of depravity and punishment by people and by God.
Ezekiel said, “no.” Each person
in each generation is responsible for their own destiny—their own salvation—their
own rugged individual responsibility.
Gone was the thought that the sour grapes that our parents served us
would set our teeth on edge. If our
teeth were on edge, then we have some
“splainin’ to do. We can’t simply blame society or culture for
our plight. We have a say in our
destiny. This is both a liberating and a
challenging word.
Jesus said something similar to this in the Sermon on the Mount when he
said, “you have heard it said, Love your friends and hate your enemies, but I
say to you love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”
“You have heard it said, you shall not commit adultery, but I say to
you that whoever looks with lust has already committed adultery in his or her
heart.”
“You have heard it said, Do no swear falsely, but I say to you do not
swear at all….”
Ezekiel said, “you have heard it said that people are guilty because of
what their parents or grandparents or great grandparents did, but I say to you,
you are responsible for your own actions.
Your own sweet or sour actions are what you are being held accountable
for.”
You can’t say, the Devil made me do it.
You can’t say the Legislature made me do it
or the regents made me do it
or the union made me do it,
or the fraternity made me do it
or the president made me do it.
We are responsible for our own actions.
Now, of course, there are circumstances that make our world more sweet
or more sour. There are things we
learned with our mother’s milk that for good or ill are a part of who we
are. There are societal structures that
liberate or restrict us. They make
things sweeter or sourer.
But in the end, we
are responsible for our own actions.
That’s what Ezekiel says in the scripture.
But it’s not only about us as individuals. We are in this world and in this life
together. The actions of another do affect
each of us in some way, shape or form.
We are connected, like a bridge, between each other. It is only when we
work together and commit ourselves as a community to justice and mercy does
true peace really occur.
Sourness is contagious.
But so is sweetness. Think of
these examples of sweetness out there:
There
is a lot of sweetness for us to share and remember.
As this semester begins, think about how we will look at
the world. Think about our
priorities. Think about all of the
sourness in the world and all of the sweetness.
Are we going try to transform the world into sweetness, or are we going
to be content with the sourness around us.
Labor Day reminds us that we are in
this together and that together people organized can make for a sweeter
presence in the world.
That’s what the church is for.
It is to make the world sweeter and to not let the
sourness have the last word.
The church is to resist the temptation to say that we
all are on our own. Even given Ezekiel’s
call to individual responsibility, we are also members of a larger community.
Our responsibility is to make the community more
responsive and more responsible to bring about a pleasing sweet future for all
people.
Hear these words of Langston Hughes:
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
Yesterday,
I realized that the green apples that we had put in the bucket had turned to
red. I prepared myself for a sour
taste—you know how you scrunch up your face…But instead, I found the sweetest
tastiest apple. It was still warm from
the waning summer sun and burst with flavor.
It made me start craving those great Honeycrisps. It also showed me that sour has the ability
to transform into sweet, if given the right amount of patience and half a
chance.