The neatly dressed man in front of me at the dry cleaners, last week, was bemoaning his memory loss. He told the clerk, “I forgot my receipt. My memory’s getting worse by the day.” I sighed with some relief, since I could relate to his forgetfulness, and misery does, after all, enjoy company. All of us forget things. And the older you get the more it seems to happen. But it does seem that whatever age you are, the more you tend to remember the things that you want to remember and forget the things you’d rather have slip your mind. Why else would so many kids with young, fertile minds remember that last week you agreed to get them something, but forget the chores you reminded them about an hour ago? Why else would they forget that book they need for homework, but remember that you agreed to take them somewhere they want to go? There does seem to be certain selectiveness to our memories.

I’d like to begin a series of three sermons, entitled, Convenient Forgetfulness: Giving God His Due. Today, I’d like to tackle “Forgetting Who’s It Is.” The Old Testament reading from Isaiah and the Gospel reading from Matthew are extraordinarily similar. Both feature vineyards. Both have the owner doing everything necessary to develop a productive vineyard. Both cleared the land; planted the grapevines; fenced it in; dug a wine press; and built a watchtower. And, despite all that careful work, in both stories something went very wrong. In the story from Isaiah the vineyard went wild – it yielded wild grapes – bitter and useless to the purpose for which vineyards are created. In the Gospel, the tenants who rented the vineyard refused to give its owner his rightful share of the harvest, which was the reason he planted the vineyard to begin with. Then, too, in both stories the owner of the vineyard meets out consequences. The owner of the first vineyard removes its protective wall and allows it to overgrow with weeds. And the owner of the second brings his murderous tenants to justice. Clearly, both owners were disappointed and frustrated with their situations.

Now, what you’ve probably already inferred is that the owner in each of those stories was the same – namely, God. These two stories were metaphors – as most parables and many prophetic images were. God was the one who planted both vineyards. God was the one, who’s vineyard, in the first story, grew wild. And in the second story, God was the one, whose tenants defrauded him. What you may not have known is that, throughout the Bible, the vineyard was one of the most common metaphors for Israel – for God’s people. I suppose that’s why one of the newest non-denominational denominations calls itself the Vineyard – picking up on that image. The vineyard represented God’s Covenant -- the people whom God included within His Covenant – Israel. They’re the ones, who went wild. They’re the ones, who kept back what belonged to God. In other words, they’re the ones, who rendered useless what God had intended by planting the vineyard of Israel in the first place. After all, what’s the purpose of a vineyard? Clearly it’s to produce fruit good enough for food and wine -- for the owner and others to use. The purpose of a vineyard isn’t just to grow wild; and the role of tenant farmers isn’t merely to enjoy the produce for themselves. That’s the reason the vineyard image is used so often to represent the people of the Covenant. God’s people have a purpose, and it’s not just to go wild. God’s people have a role, and it’s not just to enjoy benefits. There purpose is to bear fruit, and their role is to share what they have with the one who made them.

It seems to me that the root problem – where things went wrong in both stories – was the same. The problem was forgetfulness – selective and convenient forgetfulness. Israel, the vineyard, forgot who made it and what its purpose was – to produce fruit for God’s use. And Israel, the tenant farmers, also forgot who owned the vineyard and what their role was – to give God His due.

Now, we might be tempted to think ill of Israel – to wonder how they could possibly have been so forgetful about belonging to God, how they could have forgotten that their purpose was to bear fruit for God to use for others, and how they could have neglected that their role was to offer back to God His share of what He’d given them – to serve His own purposes.

Well let’s not be too hard on them. It’s human nature to be forgetful. I think that most people suffer from chronic selective recall and convenient forgetfulness – when it serves our purposes. Humans tend to want all the benefits and few of the responsibilities when it comes to the resources that we enjoy. Like the people of Israel people rather enjoy the idea of being on God’s good side – loved by God. We like the idea of being able to share our every concern with God. We hope to be the recipients of God’s blessings. We like the to be able to rely upon God’s forgiveness and good will. We like to rest assured that God may protect us from hardship. We want to trust in promises that we’ll be provided for, excused, and granted eternity in God’s heavenly kingdom. We cherish the rituals and liturgies from which we derive comfort and gain peace. And well we should.

But people also conveniently tend to let our selves off the hook when it comes to the responsibilities that God has given us. We tend to dismiss our responsibilities to share the faith. It’s uncomfortable. We tend to dismiss ourselves from our responsibilities to live upright and ethical lives. It’s unappealing. We tend to dismiss ourselves from our responsibilities to promote justice and to help those in need. It’s inconvenient. We tend to dismiss ourselves from our responsibilities to give God His due when it comes to stewardship – giving our resources to the service of God’s purposes. It’s scary -- and could deprive us of what we think might just need for ourselves. And then, eventually, we forget – forget that we belong to God, that He’s given us everything we have, that we have responsibilities – that God gave us all that makes up our lives for purposes beyond ourselves. And then it’s just a short step to believing that we’re actually self-made men and women – entitled to have and to keep everything for ourselves. We imagine that we made it, that it all belongs to us, that we’re the masters of our own fate, and that we’re entitled to acquire whatever we want and do with it whatever we please – with no responsibilities to anyone, but ourselves. Make no mistake those are the very same steps that Israel took down the path that led them to fail in their responsibilities to God.

Mind you it’s not as if we discriminate only against God in this regard. Humans do it all the time in most aspects of life. We do it in relation to natural resources – not caring if they’re depleted in 200 years as long as it won’t inconvenience us now. We do it in relation to citizenship – proudly waving flags, but hating to pay any real price. We do it in relation to economics – wanting safety nets for our selves, but quickly disassembling them once we’re safe. I guess we want it all.

But God says, with privilege comes responsibility -- the more we have the more there are. Because we’re all God’s tenants, God expects people to give Him His due. That includes every aspect of our lives, simply because we belong to God. It includes sharing faith with others, upright and ethical personal conduct, working for justice, giving to those in need, and giving generously in our stewardship to promote the achievement of God’s work in this world. So, with hearts full of gratitude let’s give God His due, because we’re God’s tenants, God’s vineyard, and God’s stewards too. The Stewardship Pledge Task Force has provided us with two gifts in this scroll. First, a wristband to counteract forgetfulness – to remind us of who we are – Stewards, who’s we are – God’s people, what our role and purpose is – to give of ourselves to accomplish His purposes in this world. Second a prayer card to seek God’s help overcome.