THE PARABLE OF THE YUP

A sermon given on Sunday, September 27, 2026

by the Rt. Rev. Alan M. Gates, Bridge Pastor

In our Exodus reading today: anxious people, crying out to their leaders.  In our newspapers today: anxious people, crying out to their leaders. 

In our Gospel reading today: authorities more busy playing “gotcha” than leading.  In our newspapers today: authorities more busy playing “gotcha” than leading.

We look for ways that the Scriptures intersect with our actual lives.  Some weeks those intersections are harder to see, and other times clearer.  Consider with me this morning the parable from Matthew’s gospel [21:28-32]. 

Jesus tells of a father with two sons.  To the first son the father calls, “I need you to work in the vineyard today.”  That son cops a bit of an attitude.  He replies, “Sorry, Dad! Not my scene.”  A little later, that son has a change of heart.  He goes out and does his share of mulching vines and plucking grapes.  To the second son the father also calls, “I need you to work in the vineyard today.”  And the second son smiles a big, charming smile and says, “Yup, you bet, Dad.  I’m on my way.”  But that second son never does make it down to the vineyard.  Never lifts a finger.

So, Jesus asks, “Which son did the will of his father?”  Of course the people reply, “The first son.”  The ‘Sorry, Dad, not my scene’ son turns out to be the true worker.  The other son, the agreeable one, was all promise, no follow-through; all talk, no walk.  His quick reply - “Yup! You bet!” - went nowhere at all. 

A friend of mine says “yup” is a verb.  (To Yup: to tell someone what they want to hear, without genuine intent.)  If my friend thinks your agreement is a little too quick or facile, he’ll say, “Are you yupping me?!”

Whenever we have a baptism at church, we all renew our own baptismal covenant.  The celebrant asks, “Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself?”  And we say, “I will, with God’s help.”  And the celebrant asks, “Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?”  And we say, “I will, with God’s help.”  And I wonder: does God ever think: “Are you yupping me?!”

The Parable of the Two Sons – or the Parable of the Yup – strikes chords for us as individuals.  It also has lessons for us together, in our churches, in our communities, and in our nation.  Perhaps given our lives right now, it can help inform the moral foundation for some of our own upcoming decisions – no matter where our political convictions lie. Here are three lessons from the Parable of the Yup.

Lesson number one: Actions count.  We are in a culture that relies more and more on short, digestible sound-bytes, on spin manufactured, on gaffes gleefully replayed, on 20-second reels.  All of these are unavoidable, but they are not enough. 

To the suggestion of chores the first son said, “No, it’s not my scene.”  But then he did the work.  It’s the action that counts.  The Parable of the Two Sons reminds us that affirming the right thing is not enough, we are expected to do the right thing.  Praying day after day, week after week, as Jesus has taught us, saying, “thy kingdom come,” is essential – and, it’s not enough if we are not also working as God’s agents to usher in that kingdom. Yupping is not enough.

For our own lives, and for the lives of our leaders, Jesus himself gave us the criteria: “By their fruits shall you know them.” [Mt 7:16] In my life and yours, and that of our nation: what actions point towards that concern for the common good which characterizes God’s kingdom?  First lesson from Parable of the Yup: Actions count.

Lesson number two: Truth matters.  Remember twenty years ago when Stephen Colbert coined the term, “truthiness?”  The fact that it took hold so firmly suggests that we recognize the phenomenon.  (Truthiness: the notion that truth can be based on personal feeling or the desire for something to be true, rather than actual fact.)  Perhaps we have come to take a certain manipulation of the truth as par for the course among politicians.  But this is not a norm to which we should make accommodation.  In today’s parable one can just hear the truthiness of the second brother: “Check it out: I am on record as being in favor of working in the vineyard.”  The truth lay elsewhere. 

In our own life and in our life together, we have an obligation to care about the truth, to refuse to be lulled into acting as though it doesn’t matter.  Neither our political convictions, nor our own personal desires or self-interest should become a substitute for truth.  Lesson number two: Truth matters.

Lesson number three: Not all changes of heart are created equal.  Every few years the phrase ‘flip-flop’ re-surfaces in our vocabulary – not ‘flip-flop’ as the cheap footwear to wear on Cape Cod; we’re talking about ‘flip flop’ as the wanton changing of one’s position.  What I want to suggest is that not all flip-flops, not all changes of heart are created equal. 

Here’s an example from church history. Back in the 16^th century, in the span of just four years, Henry VIII went from staunch defender of papal authority to renown rejecter of papal authority. Was it a flip-flop?  Yes. Yes, it certainly was. Was it for the purpose of “getting it right,” or was it for the purpose of “getting his own way?”  Even as Anglican/Episcopalians, I think we have to acknowledge that Henry’s change of position was largely for the purpose of getting his own way. 

Now, conversely from Christian history: The Apostle Paul, in the span of just weeks, went from being one of Christianity’s most fierce persecutors to being Christianity’s most foundational evangelist.  Was it a flip-flop?  I expect it was.  But was it for the purpose of “getting it right,” or “getting his own way?”  Paul’s story is one of a genuine conversion of heart and mind.  He saw that he had been wrong, and he changed direction.  This is known theologically as repentance, metanoia.  It’s a change of direction, a re-orientation of heart and mind in order to get it right. That’s what Paul did.

In today’s Gospel the first son told the father, “I will not help you.” But later he changed his mind and went.  So I ask: Was that son a flip-flopper?  After a fashion, yes.  But his change of heart was not selfish; it was dedicated to getting it right. The first son’s transformation reminds us that not all changes of direction are created equal.  Some are opportunism; others are growth, and reflect the movement of the Spirit. 

Let us always be keen to distinguish whether a change of heart is a principled conversion or an opportunistic flip-flop. It is applicable to our evaluation of our leaders or would-be leaders.  It is applicable to our own life in Christ, as the Spirit leads us to change and grow. In your own life, in our national life: Take a hard look.  Ask yourself, once more: was a change in position for the purpose of getting it right, or getting one’s own way?  As the prayer says, grant us the wisdom to know the difference.

I subscribe online to Merriam-Webster, the dictionary company in Springfield, which sends me a new word every day.  On Wednesday this week I learned a new slang term.  The word is “LARP.”  Do you know it?  It is a verb which means “to pretend; to act inauthentically or performatively; to pose.”  Our gospel reading today tells us that Jesus is not looking for disciples who larp.  The inauthentic son is not the identity Jesus wants for us.

Actions count.  Truth matters.  Changes of heart differ in nature. 

A story for this week; a story for our day.  A story for ourselves; a story for our nation.  The Parable of Two Sons.  The Parable of the Larp.  The Parable of Yup.  We ask, you and I: which of the two brothers more accurately describes me and my life these days? The one who is full of good intentions, but short on follow-through? Or maybe the other brother?  The one who is frankly reluctant, or anxious, or busy, or intimidated, but still in the end sets out to serve.

You and I are not stuck, by the grace of God. The vineyard is still out there, with plenty to do.  May the lessons of this parable find their way into our own lives, and into our decisions together.  In Jesus’ Name. Amen.