15. Sunday after Pentecost, 09/25/2011

Sermon on Matthew 21:23-32, by Richard O. Johnson

²³ And when he entered the temple, the chief priests and the elders of the people came up to him as he was teaching, and said, "By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?" ²⁴Jesus answered them, "I also will ask you one question, and if you tell me the answer, then I also will tell you by what authority I do these things. ²⁵The baptism of John, from where did it come? From heaven or from man?" And they discussed it among themselves, saying, "If we say, 'From heaven,' he will say to us, 'Why then did you not believe him?' ²⁶But if we say, 'From man,' we are afraid of the crowd, for they all hold that John was a prophet." ²⁷So they answered Jesus, "We do not know." And he said to them, "Neither will I tell you by what authority I do these things.

²⁸ "What do you think? A man had two sons. And he went to the first and said, 'Son, go and work in the vineyard today.' ²⁹And he answered, 'I will not,' but afterward he changed his mind and went. ³⁰And he went to the other son and said the same. And he answered, 'I go, sir,' but did not go. ³¹Which of the two did the will of his father?" They said, "The first." Jesus said to them, "Truly, I say to you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes go into the kingdom of God before you. ³²For John came to you in the way of righteousness, and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes believed him. And even when you saw it, you did not afterward change your minds and believe him. --English Standard Version

Let's talk about the sin of good intentions. By this, of course, I mean simply the problem we all have when we know what we should do, and we really plan to do it, but somehow we end up not doing it. I supposed we've all heard that "the road to hell is paved with good intentions." I did a little research once to try to discover the origin of that saying, and was surprised to learn that the words have been repeated in slightly different forms by everyone from St. Bernard in the 11^th century to George Barnard Shaw in the 20^th.

So the sin of good intentions seems to be a fairly universal human problem. And if we look at the Bible, we can see a number of stories where someone's "good intentions" just aren't carried out in the long run. Think of Joseph, beaten by his ten brothers and thrown into a pit. The oldest brother Reuben had very good intentions; he was going to sneak back later and rescue Joseph. But when he got around to it, he found that the other nine brothers had already sold Joseph into slavery, and it was too late to help him. Reuben's intentions were good, but in they end they didn't help Joseph a bit.

Or think of Peter, just before the arrest of trial of Jesus. "I'll never leave you, Lord, no matter what happens!" Oh, what good intentions! But Peter is the one who denies the Lord, his good intentions vanishing beneath his fear for his own skin. Yes, the sin of good intentions is an ancient one, with us since the dawn of human history.

Really sinful?

But perhaps you're wondering if "good intentions" are really sinful. What's wrong with "good intentions"? Shouldn't our intentions be good? And the answer, of course, is yes, our intentions always ought to be good. The real sin is whatever it is that keeps us from acting on our good intentions. Peter's real problem was that he was afraid, and his fear kept him from carrying out the intention to stay with Jesus. Reuben's problem was also fear-fear of defending Joseph in front of his brothers.

And with us it is the same story. Perhaps it isn't fear that keeps our good intentions from being carried out, but there are myriad other things that get in the way. Sometimes it is pride. I really intended to apologize for that incident the other day, but I was just too proud to admit I made a mistake. Sometimes it is selfishness. I intended to go visit that lonely friend on Saturday, but it was the only day I had to play golf or read my book, and I put my pleasure first.

And sometimes it is just plain laziness. I intended to get that letter written, but I just never got around to it. Eight months before my wedding, I asked a very dear friend for some information I needed in planning a honeymoon, and he finally sent it three weeks before the wedding. "I've really started to write several times," he began. (This was long before email, of course.) And then he went on, "I'm convinced that if I end up in hell, my own private room there will be wall-papered with half-written letters." And we're all like that-just too lazy, many times, to do the things we know we should.

A deeper problem

But the sin of good intentions is also a bit deeper than our laziness or our selfishness or our pride. What we do so many times, you see, is to use those good intentions as justification. We say, "Well, I really intended to do that, but just didn't get to it"-and it is as if our good intentions are supposed to get us off the hook. We intended to do it, and so it's not quite so bad that we didn't. We convince ourselves that our intention is actually what matters. And so we don't say, "I have sinned" or "I have failed." Rather we say, "My intentions were good." And we expect the other person to say, "O, well, that's all right, it doesn't really matter so long as your intentions were good." We kind of expect God to view it that way as well.

But listen to what Jesus says: "What do you think? A man had two sons. And he went to the first and said, 'Son, go and work in the vineyard today.' And he answered, 'I will not,' but afterward he changed his mind and went. And he went to the other son and said the same. And he answered, 'I go, sir,' but did not go. Which of the two did the will of his father?" Even the scribes and Pharisees have to admit that it was the first son who did the father's will.

The second son, of course, had good intentions. He really meant to go. He wasn't deliberately lying to his father; quite the contrary. He thought of himself as a good, obedient child-quite unlike his brother. But when all was said and done, he just never got around to doing what was right. And of course Jesus' point is quite clear: the second son's good intentions just didn't count for much. The final question was not which son intended to do the father's will, but which one did what his father asked. It was the action that counted, not the intention.

Can you just imagine the excuses son number two had to offer? "Well, Dad, I meant to go, I really did . . . but there were so many things to do today, and I was out late last night, and missing just one day didn't seem that important. I meant to go, but some other things came up. I'll get to it tomorrow." Sounds pretty familiar, doesn't it?

I want to do what is right

We have so many good intentions, and perhaps nowhere more than in our spiritual life. We intend to read the bible more regularly, to work on deepening our prayer life. We intend to work harder at cultivating Christian virtues, and to be more straightforward about our faith with all those whom we meet. But somehow it doesn't work out that way. St. Paul's words in Romans 7 ring so true: "I can will what is right, but I cannot do it." Or, as a favorite poet of mine once put it: "She thought, ‘That's a stupid thing to do, to eat these calories' . . . and then she calmly ate them." Good intentions, but not much on the follow-through.

How can we do better? How can we get beyond our good intentions and come closer to the good life that God has set before us? Let me suggest two clues from our other lessons this morning:

First, from Ezekiel, a word of judgment and warning. He tells us that good intentions are no excuse. "I will judge you, O Israel, all according to their ways." Not "according to their intentions," but "according to their ways." In Ezekiel's time, the people of Israel believed strongly in corporate responsibility. They believed that God didn't really care much about individual behavior, that a person could do just about anything and God wouldn't care as long as the person was a faithful member of the people of Israel.

But Ezekiel said otherwise. God cares what you do-and he gives you responsibility for your own actions. If you don't do what you should do, you cannot make excuses about your good intentions. Your good intentions don't matter. What matters is what you do.

Now that's a tough warning for those of us who are big on justification by faith, so let's remember that when we fail, God forgives. God is not keeping a scorecard of all the things left undone; when we confess our sins, God is faithful and just and forgives our sins. But God also longs for us to learn to do better, to resolve to do better. He forgives us, so that we can try once again to translate those good intentions into action.

God at work

The second clue comes from St. Paul, and it is a mighty word indeed. In Philippians 2.13 he says this: "God is always at work in you to make you willing and able to obey his own purpose." Did you get that? God is always at work in you to make you willing and able to obey his own purpose. What it means is this: We cannot, any one of us, by our own power, do God's will. Even with the best of intentions, we fail, again and again.

But God can help us. God can make us willing and able to obey. We can't do it under our own steam, but God can do it in us and through us.

No doubt you are familiar with Alcoholics Anonymous. Many alcoholics are chronic good intentions people; they really intend to stop drinking-but somehow, they never do. The first principle of AA is to teach them that they don't have to do it alone, that there is a "higher power" ready to help them. That higher power we Christians call "God." And the good news for us is that we don't have to be content with good intentions, with feeble excuses. We can do better, with God's help.

And indeed that help is already there, right there. It is, after all, by God's Holy Spirit that we even have our good intentions; it is by his working in us that we already want to do his will. "It is God," Paul writes, "who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure."

For us, then, it remains to turn those good intentions over to him, and ask that he might carry them out in us. We offer that prayer, not relying on those intentions, but with fear and trembling casting ourselves upon his gracious mercy, and knowing that he has promised to direct us in his ways. In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

The Rev. Richard O. Johnson
Grass Valley, CA, USA
E-Mail: roj@nccn.net

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