Unholy Sh+t: Jesus is the most humble person He knows, according to Himself but also the world is on fire

One of the favorite lines the adults used against me whenever I had questions was, “You’ll understand when you are older.” It was the world's easiest cop-out. There is no responsibility in the line; it puts everything back on the kid. They are just silly and stupid, but one day, when they are older, this will all make sense.

“Why is that man begging on the side of the road?” You’ll understand when you are older.

“Why can’t Johnny and his roommate go to church anymore?” You’ll understand when you are older.

“Why are you fighting?” You’ll understand when you are older.

“Why are the programs designed to protect us being utilized to create a system of haves and have-nots? Why is the proletariat being entirely ignored, sent to bed without food or shelter, and those in power ignoring the cries of the people while we all stand in breadlines hoping for a better world that we can all envision but are powerless to bring into reality because without our suffering the oligarchs would cease to have power?” 

Well, I’m older, and I still have no f+cking clue as to why, and now I don’t even have a godd+mn Oreo to shut me up.

Unholy Sh+t: An Irreverent Bible Study

Twenty-Seventh Sunday of Ordinary Time

Today’s Reading: Matthew 21:33-43

Sometimes, Jesus would speak in parables so confusing that even those closest to him had no f+cking clue what was going on, and then there are times that He is about as subtle as a punch to the face. The parable of the vineyard is one of those latter moments where he doesn’t give a single sh+t, choosing instead to bludgeon his listeners with his opinions on himself. Jesus is very humble, and he’ll be the first to tell you about it.

Basically, the parable goes, “So there was this guy who gave people a, uh, garden, and they were supposed to be in charge of it but didn’t do a very good job. They kept squandering everything and didn’t share with others, and so God, er, I mean, the vineyard owner got upset. Anyway, this guy is basically the father of all things and owns all the land, but ABSOLUTELY NOT GOD because this is a parable and definitely not about me or Dad. Anyway, the vineyard owner sends his servants to find out what everyone is doing with his garden, and they don’t listen to anyone. Finally, the owner of the garden sends his only begotten son to go check everything out, and the folks in the garden kill him! Can y’all believe that sh+t? RUDE! Like, they kill the ONLY BEGOTTEN SON THAT IS DEFINITELY NOT ME. Don’t y’all think that is super mean?” 

Of course, everyone agrees, and then Jesus hits them with, “Good, because the stone you rejected will become the cornerstone of all creation, and you will lose your inheritance if you are rude to the Vineyard owner's favorite son… which isn’t me… this is a parable.”

During his career as a public speaker, Jesus gives some pretty out-there remarks. He is constantly rambling about fruit and stuff. What he is saying often doesn’t make much sense to the listeners of his day, but it becomes wildly misunderstood in a modern context. I feel like this is one of those verses where we miss the whole point. In all my years attending church as a parishioner and a priest, I’ve maybe only heard half a dozen sermons that utilized this particular passage. I’m sure I gave a sermon on it myself, based on the fact that it was in the lectionary, but if I ever did, I can’t even remember it. That is how obscure this particular verse is in the lexicon of Christian teachings.

Whenever it is dusted off and brought out for a lesson, the focus is almost always on the consequences of Hell. If you were part of a works-based theological upbringing, then it is definitely used to justify the talking point that salvation is a gift that can absolutely be taken away. 

This scripture, historically, has been used as the Biblical equivalent of, “If you don’t clean your room, I am taking you out of the f+cking will.” 

However, that is not what I see happening here. This isn’t Jesus creating something new or making a threat; this is a classic throwback. He is basically doing a retelling of the Garden of Eden and the events that followed. Jesus is saying, “Humans, you had one f+cking job: take care of the earth, be kind to one another, and instead, you invented power structures to oppress each other, and any time Dad and Me tried to warn you, you beat up the people who tried to come for your power.” 

This is a story about greed. 

Yet, and maybe more importantly, Jesus is doing what he always does; promise that if the people in power are abusing that power, he is going to turn the tables and give power to the people despised by society: the lepers, hookers, and thieves, because those that you think are dishonest, the ones you have labeled as criminal, have more honor than the powerbrokers. 

Humanity had deviated from the plan, and instead of accepting the gift of being able to lounge around naked all day while eating fruit, we decided to make governments and borders and everything else that divides us. We could have anything we wanted, except for this one very specific piece of fruit, but absolutely any other fruit, no, not that one, stop that! Then, as people began to warn us that we were harming each other with all these rules and land grabs, we decided to press on toward self-destruction, making kingdoms and rules about who could sleep with whom. We became so unwilling to listen to each other that time and again; different people would stand up and warn us that we were heading toward self-destruction. Society refused to listen; we would kill them, silence them, or imprison them. From Moses to Greta, they’ve been warning us that the storm is coming, but we laugh in their faces until we feel the first raindrop. This is another lesson that we have refused to learn throughout the centuries.

We burn the heretics and then later make them saints.

Jesus is looking for the people who will produce fruit, not those who are hoarding it for themselves and making massive profits. He wants everyone to have something to eat and maybe a little wine to take the edge off. The goal was never supposed to be about creating kingdoms and dynasties. We were supposed to work together in community and build a better world than we found it. Our task was to tend to the animals and eat grapes. Instead, we fought each other over territory, and we never had enough, so we traveled until we could get more by believing that the grass was greener on the other side of that hill.

The worst part? Nothing has changed. Except maybe we’ve found bigger and better ways to destroy each other. Swords weren’t enough, so we made guns, then bombs, and, finally, nuclear warheads. We rebuilt the Library of Alexandria through the internet; the world of information is at our fingertips, and instead of using it to expand our collective understanding of humanity, we use it to bully each other. Then, whenever someone stands up to say, “Hold up! We don’t have to do things like this. There is a better way.” We do what we always do and stone them in the public square. Except now, we can do it without blood. All we need to do is burn them on the World Wide Web and post an ironic meme about how they need aloe.

Even in our modern society, the warning remains the same: we aren’t listening to those warning us of our destruction. The planet is on fire, we are squandering our resources, and if we aren’t careful, we will lose everything we’ve built together. 

We’ve reached the point where we are about to lose our inheritance.

History is repeating itself, and we’ve not heeded the warnings that we are running out of time. It’s 90 seconds to midnight; do you know where your kids are? They are preparing the battle lines to overthrow our systems of power because they are exhausted from having to sell photos of their buttholes so that they can afford bread and then die anyone. Frankly, whenever the battle does rage, I’ll be standing on their side because the earth was ours to tend, and we have collectively failed. It’s time to give up power and hand it off to the new caretakers who will, if they are even able at this point, to restore order and decency.

Or maybe Jesus was just really mad that someone ate all of his grapes and didn’t leave any wine behind for him. What do I know anyway?