The Eighteenth Sunday After Pentecost - Matthew 21:23-32 - The Rev. Colette Hammesfahr
September
27, 2026 - Matthew 21:23-32
Have you ever said, “I’ll do it,” fully intending to do it,
but you never did it? Maybe it’s a phone call you promised to make. A project
you promised to finish. Someone you said you’d visit. A change in your life you
promised yourself you’d make. We usually mean it when we say it, but somewhere
between the promise and actually going through with it, something happens.
If you answered, “yes” to my question, you’re probably a
little relieved to hear the story Jesus told about the two sons. Maybe relieved
to know that it isn’t just you…and the sometimes huge gap between what we say
and what we actually do is nothing new.
There are two sons, and their father asks them both to work
in the vineyard that day. The first son says, “I will not; but later he changed
his mind and went” and worked in the vineyard. The second son said, “I go, sir;
but he did not go.” And then Jesus asks
what seems to be an easy question, “Which of the two did the will of his
father?” We all know the answer: it’s the first son. The one son’s practice was
better than his profession, while the other son’s profession was better than
his practice. One said the wrong thing but ultimately did the right thing. The
other said the right thing but never actually did it.
This very simple story can sometimes make us feel a little
uncomfortable. Most of us know how to say the right things. We know what
Christians are supposed to say. We know the promises we make at baptism. We
know the words we say every Sunday. We say that we love God. We say that we
love our neighbors. We say that we forgive. We say that we trust God.
But today, Jesus’ question isn’t simply, “What do we say?” His
question is, “What do we do?” Because promises can never take the place of
performance.
John Woolman was a New Jersey Quaker. He worked as a tailor,
a shopkeeper, writer, and a traveling minister in the mid to late 1700’s. The
Quakers had raised objections to slavery but some continued to own slaves.
As a young man, Woolman worked for a shopkeeper. One day,
his employer asked him to prepare a bill of sale, transferring ownership of a
slave from one person to another. Because of his Quaker beliefs, this troubled
Woolman. He prepared the document because he felt obligated to obey his
employer. After preparing the document, he told his employer that he believed
slavery was inconsistent with Christian beliefs. That conversation stayed with
him. As his convictions deepened, Woolman started refusing to write documents
that transferred slaves from one owner to another. Eventually, he realized that
just speaking against slavery wasn’t enough. He started looking at the choices
he was making in his own life. When traveling in the South, Woolman stayed with
fellow Quakers who owned slaves. It bothered him that he was benefiting from
the labor of slaves. He even tried to pay the slaves for the things they did
for him.
He even took his beliefs a step further. He stopped using
goods produced by slaves. He then went a step further and he stopped using goods
that he believed depended on the exploitation of human or animal labor. Woolman
went beyond the initial question of, “What do I believe about slavery?” Now his
question was, “If I really believe this, what does that belief require me to
do?”
In reading about this story, I started thinking and asking
myself, “If someone knew nothing about my faith except what they saw me do this
past week, what would they conclude that I believe?” What if I wasn’t wearing
my collar? What if they didn’t see me standing at the altar or leading a Bible
study? Does the life I lead say what I believe?
In Paul’s letter to the Philippians, he tells them what
being a Christian should look like. He writes, “Let the same mind be in you
that was in Christ Jesus.” Jesus doesn't simply say that he loves—he empties
himself, serves, humbles himself, and becomes obedient. In Jesus, profession
and practice become one.
Now, I’m not standing up here telling us all to be better
Christians or to make sure our actions match what we profess. It’s more than simply
saying that God demands something of us. What Paul tells us is that God is at
work in us. God isn’t a bystander in our life. God is at work, changing our
hearts, changing our minds, and giving us the ability to take the next faithful
step.
This is the good news of Jesus’ story. There’s grace in the
first son’s change of mind. The first son gets another chance. The son first said,
“No.” The son got it wrong. But his first answer didn’t have to be his final
answer. Jesus tells us that “later he changed his mind and went.” Something
changed in him. He turned around. And that's what repentance really is—not
simply feeling badly about something we've done, but turning around and going
in a different direction. And God gives us the grace to do that.
Paul says, “For it is God who is at work in you, enabling
you both to will and to work for his good pleasure.” God doesn't simply point
out the gap between what we say and what we do and leave us there feeling
guilty. God works in that gap. God works in us. God nudges us when our lives
don't match what we say we believe. God makes us uncomfortable sometimes. God
changes our hearts. God gives us another opportunity to get up and go into the
vineyard.
John Woolman's story wasn't really about a man who had
everything figured out. It was about a man who kept allowing his faith to
change the way he lived. And that's the invitation for us. Not perfection. Not
getting it right the first time. But being willing to let God keep working on
us until, little by little, the lives we live begin to look more like the faith
we profess.
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