Remembering William Tyndale

 

Today is the anniversary of Tyndale's strangling and burning for his translation of the New Testament. The reading appointed for Morning Prayer was Mark 12.1-12, and this is how I sewed Tyndale and the text together in a three minute sermon. Enjoy!

William Tyndale knew that the ‘word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing until it divides soul from spirit, joints from marrow.’ Knowing that the sword had grown blunt, he sharpened it by translating it. What he could not know was the cost to him, but it would have made no difference if he had known. He didn’t have a martyr complex; just a single-minded, stubborn, one-way commitment to his Saviour and Lord. And what a gift to us that has been!

 The fact that today’s parable makes uncomfortable reading seems fitting memorial to him somehow. Tyndale followed his Saviour to the stake, and Jesus told this parable inside Jerusalem, his journey nearly ended, his options narrowed to one, the way of the cross. The parable is prophecy, warning and invitation. Unusually, Jesus is the subject of his own parable and prophesies the son’s death. The owner’s son, God’s son. It is warning, because the vineyard will be reclaimed by the owner, God. Woe betide any who stand in the way. Woe betide us too: being children of the new covenant is no guarantee of God’s blessing. Only faithfulness is.

And it is invitation even to his persecutors, to revisit the vineyard, God’s kingdom, so that the story might be told differently. Even at this late stage Jesus is not just condemning his opponents out of hand. There is another way, he says, the way of discipleship. Instead of killing the son, might not one – just one – of his detractors turn, and respect the son?

We know the end of the story, but we do not know if any turned at the end, at least none of the chief priests, scribes and elders. Are we then told the story that we might point the figure at them in condemnation alongside Jesus? No, but we are told it that we may not be found wanting, included in the condemnation. Our calling is to respect – or fear [Tyndale’s word] the Son, whose Word we hear today in English thanks in part to William Tyndale, and it will cost us dear. It will cost us our lives.

Was the steward unjust?

This is one of a preacher’s worst nightmares, an ethically suspect parable of unclear meaning and – even in its context in Luke’s gospel – offering a number of interpretations given by Jesus himself. But then Christian interpreters of the scriptures have a history of trying to read far too much detailed meaning into simple texts, and it is usually to their downfall.

This is, after all, a parable, and not an allegory. Notoriously, medieval biblical interpretation privileged the allegorical, whereby each physical detail of the narrative had a spiritual meaning. The physical didn’t matter – the soul was everything. Perhaps the most allegorized of all parables, that of the Good Samaritan, even gives meaning to the two coins, the ultimate absurdity.

When Jesus told a story, he wanted to get a point across. That’s the first and simple truth. The second truth is that he wanted his hearers to think. To think for themselves, to ask what the story meant for their place in the Kingdom of God. And it was always about the Kingdom of God. In a sense, nothing else mattered. I don’t imagine, though, that Jesus had a watertight ‘right’ answer. The process of thinking through the purpose of the parable, which would shape the journey of discipleship for each individual who heard, had both common meaning and meaning unique to the individual. The same remains true today.

So what are we to make of this particular story?

Simply that there are two sets of people described: the children of this age, and the children of light. The children of this age – we might say worldly people – act systematically and wholeheartedly according to their principles, or lack of them. This is commendable in the world’s terms, hence the ironic compliment from the master. For the children of light – us – the challenge is to be equally committed to the cause, not of exploitation and selfish greed, but of promoting God’s kingdom. Live the whole of your life, including the apparently non-religious bits, for the glory of God. And that’s nearly it.

There’s a tail to the story, however, and a little bit more to learn. We are enjoined to make for ourselves friends of unrighteous mammon, so that when it runs out, ‘they’ will welcome you into eternal homes, heavenly habitations. This is a recognition that money, though neutral, tends to pollute and corrupt in our fallen world. Many saints have tried to avoid it altogether. Jesus is more sanguine: money may stain your hands, and you may struggle to apply it wisely. Persevere, he says, and use it to the best ends possible, the ends of the Kingdom. Then you will find that it has eternal, even saving significance.

Peace be with you

In the midst of a troubled and stormy life, may the peace of Christ dwell richly in your hearts.