17th Sunday after Trinity (Year A) | 27th September 2026 | St Mary Magdalene, Outwood | Eucharist
Matthew 21.23-32 | Philippians 2.1-13 | Ezekiel 18.1-4, 25-32
It is often said that ‘actions speak louder than words’.
I think we know this one!
We might use it when calling out the idle slackness of children and/or life-partners; those promises of help around the home that somehow evaporate like the morning mist… hmmm!
The phrase is variously described as an aphorism, an idiom, or, most likely, a proverb. And perhaps we can test it out together.
Supposing I stepped up here and said to you: “I am going to speak about the Gospel – pay careful attention!” And then I went and sat down.
You might reasonably think: “Thank goodness for that, he’s gone!”
Or perhaps you might think: “Ooh… is he living out the Gospel by sitting down and being quiet? Hmmm… I am very confused right now!”
And you would have a point.
The proverb can be both instructional – telling us what should be done – and observational – pointing out what has, or has not, actually happened.
And sometimes, of course, it only seems to work in one direction.
So, now that we are all thoroughly confused, let’s come back to it in a little while and first have a look at what Matthew is telling us about Jesus.
In today’s Gospel we hear the chief priests questioning the authority of Jesus, following his entry into Jerusalem and his overturning of the tables in the Temple.
Jesus responds with a question of his own: what was the origin of John the Baptist’s authority to baptise and call people to repentance?
The chief priests cannot answer him honestly. Whatever they say will expose their duplicity and, perhaps more importantly, the distance between what they claim to believe and what they are prepared to do with it.
The Temple was their domain. Its authority and religious life had been entrusted to them for generations.
And now here was this chap from the country, visiting the big city, apparently quite popular, and behaving as though he had ideas well above his station!
And yet, Jesus had them.
How could that be? Who did he think he was?
The authority to challenge the Temple in this way belonged, ultimately, to the one anointed by God – the Messiah. And nobody knew when the Messiah would appear. Other would-be messiahs had come and gone.
Now here was Jesus.
But Matthew’s readers already know something that the chief priests clearly didn’t.
Jesus had been baptised by John. The Spirit of God had descended upon him, and a voice from heaven had declared him to be God’s beloved Son. Matthew has already sketched out for us who this Jesus is.
If the religious leaders had truly understood John’s mission, they might have understood where Jesus’ authority came from.
But they remain in troubled waters.
And it is there that Jesus tells them about two sons.
One says ‘No’ to his father, but later changes his mind and goes.
The other says ‘Yes, of course’ – but then does nothing.
Which one did the will of his father?
The answer is obvious.
And suddenly our proverb comes back into focus.
Actions speak louder than words.
Someone can profess to be a Christian and have all the outward appearances of one.
You can wave a Bible around, surround yourself with icons and images, wear a massive crucifix, enthusiastically sing the hymns and call out all the other wrong ‘uns and their misdeeds.
You can be absolutely certain that your way is the right way – the pure way – and that everyone else is a sinner.
Yes… and you have met them too. And it is entirely possible that we have all been them, at some time, perhaps just for a while!
The way we present ourselves as Christian – as believers, as followers of Jesus, as people who seek to walk through the world as he did – all of this has to be real. No illusions. Not just words.
Throughout the Christian tradition, belief and practice have always needed to belong together.
We sometimes use two Greek-derived words for this: orthodoxy and orthopraxy.
Orthodoxy is right belief: what we believe about God and the life of faith. It gives us the foundations of our theology, our creeds and our worship. Orthopraxy is right practice: how those beliefs are actually lived out.
The two belong together. What we believe should shape how we live. But a belief that never becomes action remains only an intention. And so Jesus says something quite shocking.
Those whom the religious establishment regarded as sinners – tax collectors and prostitutes – were entering the kingdom of God ahead of those who could say all the right things but failed to live by them.
It is not that Jesus is saying that what we believe doesn’t matter. He is saying that what we believe must become visible in what we do.
Faith is not simply something we profess. It is something we practise. As James puts it, ‘faith without works is dead.’
I recently read about a forthcoming film of CS Lewis’s The Magician’s Nephew – my favourite of all the Narnia books. Apparently, the casting of Meryl Streep for the voice of Aslan – a talking lion, that represents Jesus – has caused outrage amongst Christian fundamentalists. Surprise!
We can all be purists at heart, when it comes to the retelling of our favourite stories, or a remake of a film we once loved. There is something rather human about wanting things to be done properly. Sadly, though, when that desire for purity is applied to people – their gender, ethnicity, background or identity – things become rather more serious.
Considering how few balanced and accessible resources exist, to help younger people know of God’s love, it’s a shame that such an issue is what divides instead of bringing together. An imagined orthodoxy when such a thing is not needed.
And perhaps there is a lesson here for us.
When we become more concerned with protecting an imagined purity than with making the love of God visible, we can end up making the space between people and the Gospel even wider.
Our calling is to reduce that gap. To bring people closer. And, when necessary, to allow the light of Christ to shine into our own lives first – to inspect our beliefs and our actions.
We trust in Jesus – in his authority as God’s anointed Messiah.
We seek to live in the Holy Spirit, and we seek oneness with God.
For us, that may be enough.
But others will ask questions.
By what authority do we still speak about faith?
By what authority do we speak about God?
By what authority do we claim that the Gospel is good news?
Perhaps the better question is this:
What should we be doing that would make people ask, ‘By what authority are you doing that?’
And when they ask, perhaps the answer is not a clever argument, or a defence of the Church, or a list of reasons why our interpretation is the correct one.
Perhaps we simply tell them about Jesus. And perhaps we show them Jesus.
We have all known situations where we have promised to do something and then, for whatever reason, haven’t managed to do it.
Sometimes the intention was genuine. Sometimes it wasn’t. Children are learning their way through life, and they don’t always choose the path we would hope for them. But they learn from what they see. We have to be the example.
Word.
Action.
Commitment.
Responsibility.
You see where I am going with this. However we guide others, integrity is key.
What about those who come here seeking something?
Those who hope for something better?
Those who want to know more about this Jesus?
And they come to us.
Will they find the truth here?
Amidst our strange forms of words and actions, our songs, our prayers and all the ideas that make up Sunday worship?
Will they see us living as disciples?
By what authority will we speak of the free gift of grace from God?
If we are challenged, what will we say?
And, more importantly, how will we show it?
We do not need to defend God.
But we can show people where God is.
We do not need to justify the Bible.
But we can show how its words can bring life.
There is no requirement for us to speak endlessly about purity, or which churches are wrong, or which passages of Scripture are right.
We are not called to judge, but to signpost. Not to cast out, but to welcome in love.
We have endeavoured to show, through our lives, the fruits of Christ’s redemption – lives that have been lit by the light of Christ, often against the odds.
We have known the struggles and the joys of saying:
“Yes, I am a Christian – and here’s why.”
What other authority is needed to live differently and to love our neighbour?
This, then, is what it means to be obedient to God through Jesus.
He commanded us to love one another as he has loved us.
If we can live in such a way that those around us are reassured that a person of faith is in their midst;
if our words and actions match the Gospel we proclaim, however imperfectly we manage it;
if we continue to seek the face of God, meeting Christ in every stranger; then we are living authentically, within Christ’s authority. But it is not enough to rely on the faith of other people.
We have to keep developing and deepening our own relationship with God – being obedient to his will, which may challenge us and call us into new ways of thinking, believing and worshipping.
And we will get it wrong.
We cannot always accomplish what we set out to do.
We may pray long and hard to hear God’s calling, showing us the way forwards and helping us to get there.
We may seek to reassure others that, yes, we have integrity.
And yet life pushes back.
We fail.
We fall short.
We say ‘Yes’ and then don’t quite manage to do what we promised.
But perhaps that is where Ezekiel has something important to say to us.
‘Repent and live.’ Turn around. Try again.
God is not asking us to pretend that we never fail. He is asking us to turn back towards him.
We are a people of faith. Our faith forms our intentions for a life of kingdom-building.
Never give up on that.
And if, today, it doesn’t work out…, if our words and actions don’t quite match… if we have said ‘Yes’ but somehow ended up sitting down and doing nothing… then, as people who dwell in the Holy Spirit, who hear the call of Christ to love one another, we will try again.
And next time, perhaps, we shall prevail.
Because actions do indeed speak louder than words.
Sometimes the most important action is simply this: to turn back towards God, and begin again.
I pray God’s grace upon you this week, in all your endeavours.
Amen.
Image: First efforts with Siri Intelligence to form an image from my description. Took a while and tried to describe Apple iPod adverts of old, but… AI frustration as artist is our biggest threat imho!
Previous Year A sermon: https://www.simonberesford.co.uk/authority-or-trust/