On Monday, I was certain I would be preaching on the
parable of the Dishonest Steward or Manager, as it is often known. Truth be told, I was relieved a bit to see it
for this week’s readings. I had just
finished detailed preparation for it for the Tuesday night Bible Study, so I
was ready! That I am warning and
lamenting, of course, let’s you know I think God had other plans.
Monday
night, I was coming out of the shower at the Y after my fide. For those of you who are ladies and do not understand
male locker room etiquette, we men do not speak much to each other in the
locker room. We go about our business,
avoiding eye contact and speech at nearly all costs. And under no circumstances do we do anything that
might cause another guy to lose control of his towel and end up, ahem,
exposed. LOL You ladies are laughing at us, but ask the
guys next to you if I am exaggerating in the slightest.
So, Monday
night, I come out of the shower after my lift and ride and a man with a son
asks if we know each other. He felt like
he had seen me before. Get your minds
out of the gutter. I swear. Y’all are as bad as the other guys in the
locker room. Everybody panics because he
is talking to me. They were probably all
terrified I’d risk shaking his hand and losing control of my towel. I get it.
So, a back and forth conversation happens that makes everyone else
present uncomfortable.
Eventually,
we figure out that Tina and I have helped him at our food pantry. Better still, he tells me how much people at
his son’s school appreciate us going there.
Imagine my surprise because it was not Croft or Norman Binkley. Hilary and Nancy and others have added yet another
school on some weekends. He did, of
course, grab my hand and shake it forcefully and for a bit. In truth, I was worried he was going to shake
my towel out of my other hand. But I
kept control and my dignity and made no one even more uncomfortable, given the
circumstances.
Eventually,
after all the thank you’s and stories about those whom we served and his own
family, he left to get his son ready for bed and school the next morning. After a few moments of blessed silence, a
brave soul ventured a question. He’d
noticed how appreciative the gentleman was.
A couple guys piled on and joked that deaf people could have heard his
thankfulness. The first guy asked me to
repeat my church and the ministry and had a few probing questions. Then he commented that it was a shame. English was not the thankful guy’s first
language. So my first engager thought it
was a shame that foreigners could not support themselves. He opined that they should wait until they
can to try and immigrate or, alternatively, live within their means. That got a lot of assent from what was,
perhaps surprisingly to y’all sitting here, a limited, but ethnically diverse
group of men. It was a group of diverse
men, just to remind y’all, who had decided to risk their man cards and talk
with a priest and each other in a lock room about a subject with which they had
no experience and, for those who claimed to be Christian, a woeful lack of
discipleship.
Good, y’all
have known me for five years and understand how that conversation went.
Many folks would rather stay near their home. Those that are forced to flee by
circumstances, though, go through a lot of shock to move here. There’s the paperwork for legal immigration
or the fear that comes with undocumented immigration; there are some government
support agencies out there, but many benefits cease after a few months – those
healthcare benefits are part of the reason Siloam exists in our community; they
give up jobs as doctors, accountants, lawyers, and whatever else to become
landscapers, service industry workers, janitors, and day laborers among us;
and, oh by the way, they do all this as they are learning another language.
The Holy
Spirit was among us. As I shared my
experiences with those who come to us in need, some resonated with those whose
grandparents had immigrated here. One
guys grandpa had been a doctor in his home country. He could not afford basically to repeat
medical school here in the United States, so he worked as a janitor to feed the
kids. One guy’s parents had spent their
life savings applying for all the correct visas and immigration cards and
getting the family to the United States.
And, as we talked in a locker room a bit more, we all reminded ourselves
just how expensive Nashville is. I, of
course, brought up Jesus’ commands to us who claim to be His disciples. The Christians wrestled a bit with the fact
that those commands were in red letters in their Bibles but just how hard the
work truly is. What could have been a
very negative and judgmental conversation turned into a discussion of whether
we believe Jesus’ commands are just that or suggestions, of whether we truly
believe we are merely stewards, of what we are to do about those who game the
system and rip of organizations like our church, and even whether we could
change unjust systems.
A couple
days later, I found myself in the ICU visiting my cousin and aunt. If you are new to Advent, Lana is my proof
that I am a native hillbilly. I will
tell people that “oh, yeah, my cousin married my uncle” and use the
accompanying confusion and silence to whatever necessary purpose I deem necessary. Lana is my cousin on my mother’s side, but
she married my dad’s brother, in part because my sister and I introduced them
to get to ride all the rides at a local carnival. We have been praying for Lana at Advent
because she has, what is now, metastasized cancer. While I was visiting my mother for her
birthday, Lana was being transitioned to hospice. We happened to be there as the decision and
transfer was being made. While that is,
of course, a horrible tragedy for my uncle and cousins, I was drawn into
another discussion with a nurse.
We have a number of doctors and nurses and
other healthcare related professionals here, so this will be a conversation
that reminds them and us of our need for a Savior. We chatted at first about that fine line that
exists between making people comfortable and actually killing them. Doctors especially take an oath to first do
no harm. But pain management is a tricky
business. The more morphine we give, the
greater the side effects. Too much
morphine can cause death; too little leaves the patient in terrible pain. That line gets blurred because of the
addictive nature of morphine drugs. The
more the body gets, the more it needs. I
see the understanding and first hand experience on many of your faces.
This nurse
was concerned about whether they were sideways with God. There’s been a few times where she worried
she caused a death more than ameliorated the pain of a patient. It was, to be sure, unintentional. And no one had raised the question legally or
ethically, but she had the moral worry. Were she an Episcopalian, I would say that she
was having a crisis of conscience and was wrestling with the Enemy.
My advice
was really pretty simple. Had she
followed guidelines and instructions and best practices, or was she trying to
kill them to end their suffering? The
latter question got a horrified no, and the former got an enthusiastic nod. I told her that God knew her heart. That last question was way more important
than the first few, but I reminded her that the guidelines and instructions
were not cover when it came to God. She
needed to be aware and speak into bad systems and bad guidelines and be the
herald of God’s mercy that He’d called her to be.
My cousin,
Lana’s youngest, is a nursing student.
We chatted a bit about that, and she got animated about some of the
systems. She shared some scary stuff
with me about eugenics, and I shared with her more morphine stuff. A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away,
when I was a broker, I recommended that clients buy stock in a company that had
synthesized a sea slug venom that seemed to be as effective as morphine with no
addictive qualities. I should add that
my clients loved that investment. It
IPO’d at $14. It went up and down for
several months. Clients who had watched
a loved one suffer typically owned the most.
One day at work, word broke that the company was being acquired for $50
a share. Sounds great, doesn’t it? Believe me, I was a happy broker. I made some jack that month!
The rest of
the story was that the acquiring company decided to shut down the Phase III
trials. Turns out that they had a
financial interest in the morphine drugs that are on the market and used to
keep people comfortable . . . or
addicted. There’s no way that I could
have known in the mid 90’s that I was participating in a system that would kill
however many people that it has, that I would be serving as a pastor in a
church where people shoot up and, in at least one case, nearly kill themselves,
or that I would be so involved in the moral quandaries forced upon healthcare
professionals. Oh, and unless I forget,
you can all imagine my wonderful feelings when that same company asked the NIH
for $60 million or so in funding to explore the efficacy of this “replacement
solution” that they “found” in their archives and that, in countries where
certain patents have expired, the drug is already in use. Yes, those of you with angry expressions
heard me right. That drug is already in
use in other countries where drug patents are not as lengthy. That means the opioid epidemic that we have
been experiencing in as far away as our parking lot here at Advent might not
have been necessary.
I could go
on and on about the systemic injustices which you and I defend, navigate, or
are ground under by as we seek to live our lives. Depending on our passions, and likely their
impact on our lives, we may care more or less about systemic injustices, but
the prophet Amos had the wonderful call on his life to point out all the systemic
injustices which he saw and to call the people of the northern kingdom, Israel,
to do away with such injustices or risk God’s withdrawal of blessings or even
His sending of curses.
To take you
back in time, Amos ministered somewhere around the 750’s BC, shortly after the
death of Solomon and the division of the kingdom of Israel. Jeroboam, which has more of an impact on our
Episcopal wine sensibilities today, was king of the northern kingdom. Like any good politician, Jeroboam wanted to
make sure folks in the northern kingdom stayed loyal to him. One of the biggest obstacles to that loyalty
was the fact that Jerusalem and the Temple were in the southern kingdom of
Judah.
In an act
that would surprise few of us, Jeroboam erected a place of worship in the
northern part of Israel near Dan and in the southern part near Bethel. Now, I like to think we are pretty
unsurprised by the words and actions of politicians, but this king commissioned
two golden calves and had them placed near the entrance to the two places of
worship in the northern kingdom. We read
that story last week, and we talked about God’s displeasure with His people,
how His wrath burned hot against them, and how, were it not for Moses’
intercession, all those in the Exodus, save Moses, would have been killed in
God’s wrath. As it was, they burned the
calf, sprinkled the ashes in the water, drank it, and were made sick. Better still, 3000 of the presumed leaders
were identified and killed by the Levites.
Good. I see the nods.
Now, y’all
are amateur Christians, but you know this story. Given your study of the events and God’s
response, would you ever think to erect a golden calf and identify it as your
God or as your God’s mount? Good. I see the laughter. It would take a particular kind of stupid,
wouldn’t it? The king was a professional
student of God. The chief responsibility
of the king was to study the torah and teach it to the people. If the king did his job, God would bless the
people. Now, we have a king, a
descendant in the line of David and Solomon, a king who called Solomon dad and
David granddad, who decides it will be a good idea to re-commission and mount
the calves.
Were that
was the only sin!
Amos lays
out a list of societal or institutional sins that should sound similar in our
own ears. They trample the needy! They bring ruin to the poor! Business owners rip off the customers by
providing less or inferior product AND by overcharging for that less or
inferior product! Amos reminds Israel
that God has sworn by the pride of Jacob, and how do they respond? Do they tremble at the thought that God might
judge them? Are they worried that, one
day, they will stand before the Lord and need to make an accounting? No!
Amos speaks
God’s judgment into a godless, unjust, and sinful land. He will bring great mourning, like that found
at the death of an only son! We think we
understand the pain and lamentation that suggests, but we really do not. While we mourn the death of a child, our
children do not tie us in our own minds into the covenant of God. The death of an only son meant the very real
possibility that a family, the particular owner of a plot of the Land, would
cease to exist. Spiritually speaking,
such deaths meant a family was cut off from God’s promises! The deep mourning described by Amos captures
that spiritual sense along with the normal sense of loss associated with death.
Does that
image cause Israel to change its ways? Do
the people hear the judgement from the mouth of God’s own prophet and seek to
repent? To change their ways? No.
God even
promises something worse. He will quit speaking.
You and I,
I think, cannot fathom that particular promise.
One of the distinguishing characteristics of Yahweh was that He spoke to
His people. More often than not, as you
read your favorite stories in the Old Testament, God spoke three times around
particular events, in addition to the normal conversations He had with our
spiritual forebears. Before God would
act, He would tell His people that He was going to act. During the act, He would tell the people He
was acting in accordance with His spoken promise. Then, after the action was completed, God
would tell the people to look at what He had just done. Through all those interactions, the Lord
would give theological meaning to the action.
Often, He would rescue them. Less
often, He would judge their, and His, enemies.
I have not counted, but I think He may judge Israel more often than
their enemies.
Amos’
prophesy falls into that last category, and He wants them to know that what is
about to happen is His will. They have
not kept the covenant they made with Him.
He is so faithful that He will have the Land disgorge them for their
transgression, and the invading army will be His instrument of that
judgment. They will, of course, seek Him
and His word after these things come to be, and He will not be found.
This curse
of silence will find its real fulfillment in the words of Micah, and the
intervening silence between Micah and John the Baptizer, but we and they get an
appetizer here. What would it meant to a
people used to hearing the voice of God for Him to go silent? That’s what Israel is about to
experience. And make no mistake about
it, God wants them to know He is being faithful to the covenant they both made
at Sinai after the molten calf nonsense.
They promised to keep the Covenant.
Keeping it meant His blessings.
But violating it with impunity was not possible. Warning after warning was sent through the
prophets, and still the people do not repent.
So God will be faithful. Israel
will be disgorged from their inheritance, and He will cease to speak for a
time.
Thankfully,
and mercifully, you and I live after God’s last great silence. Thankfully, you and I live after His Word
became flesh, dwelt among us, lived as He commanded in the torah, died for our
sins, was raised on that glorious third day, and ascended to the Father where He
makes intercessions on our behalf. We
have no fear of God’s silence precisely because He has given us all He had to
say in Christ Jesus our Lord! Yet, as I
was reminded in the locker room this week, as I scrolled through the “news”
channels this week, as I glanced over the headlines that came across my phone
and computer, I wonder if we ever really listen to Him any more, and, scarier
still, if we understand the consequence of our intransigence and sins. Have we become less heralds of God’s grace
and more heralds of cheap grace? Do we
see the institutional evils in our life and throw our hands up in futility or
look the other way hoping that someone else will fix it? Have we spent so much time focused on this
world that we have lost the promise, the hope, and the power of God’s covenant
with us through Christ?
We live in
a country where many want to claim is Christian. More than a few of you have been shocked at
my insistence that we are not God’s chosen nation nor that we should want to
be. Few of us want the ministry of Amos,
but fewer of those around us would want to hear God’s word on this or that injustice,
even among those who claim with their lips that Christ is Lord. Can you imagine how people would respond if
we called out the injustices present in for profit prisons and demanded that
our politicians fix them? Can you imagine
how our fellow citizens would respond if we called out the systemic injustices
in our own “justice” system and demanded our politicians fix them? Can you imagine if we called out the systemic
injustices in our healthcare system and demanded that our politicians fixed
them? Can you imagine if we called out any
of the injustices in any system with which we engaged and demanded our
politicians fix them? And what if we
made our case and those politicians who chose to accept injustice were voted
out of office? What if there were real
consequences for inaction or immoral action for our leaders? Would not God be glorified in our actions
even more so than in our words?
Instead, we
reward them for their status quo. I
think one of the great tragedies of this time when future Church historians
look back on this place and this time, will be the Church’s silence in the face
of injustice and our excuse making for our leaders because of their party
affiliation. Somewhere along the way, we
have forgotten who we are. We have
placed ourselves in one camp or the other and forgotten who we truly are and
what we are truly called and empowered to do.
There is a
famous scene in a movie that had no real intention, I think, to be Gospel
revealing. The movie was called Hellboy
and starred Ron Pearlman as a wise-cracking demon. As Armageddon is being thrust upon him by the
antagonist, the human hero grabs Hellboy’s cross and throws it to him. The cross, as we learned earlier, was a gift
from Hellboy’s adoptive father. As
Hellboy catches the cross and grasps it, it burns his hand, getting through the
haze of power and mourning and fear and whatever else is ruling his heart that time. The young agent tells him to remember who he
is and that his father gave him a choice.
I see a couple nods but a lot more worried faces. I know.
Hollywood using demons to glorify God and disciple us. It’s crazy.
What’s more
crazy, though? The movie scene I just described
or the idea that God’s chosen people, His own sons and daughters, His princes
and princess, would accept any injustice, let alone make excuses for it, or even
worse, wave their hands in futility, as if they lacked the power to do anything
about it?
Good! I see squirming. Now you know how Israel felt when Amos walked
the streets. Now you know how merchants
and rulers and priests felt when Amos walked the streets, full of the Holy
Spirit, and pronounced God’s judgment on their actions and their hearts. I daresay it is that same Holy Spirit which
is causing us to squirm this day in light of those injustices from which we
profit, for which we feel impotent to change, or simply do not care because
they do not affect us. But here’s the
kicker and the greater promise of the Gospel: you and I, by virtue of our
baptism into the death and Resurrection of Jesus, have been grafted into God’s
own family. We have prayed for eyes to
see and ears to hear and hearts to understand.
And when we do, we are called to act, not just cluck our tongues, but
act. Yes, the work may seem incredibly
hard. Yes, we may die before the
injustice is corrected. Yes, God’s
enemies may even seem to be winning for a time.
But you and I are called, day in and day out, week in and week out,
month in and month out, through whatever circumstance of life we find ourselves,
to live as His sons and daughters, to live as if Jesus came out of that tomb
and ascended to our Father, as if He keeps His word and sends His Spirit to
accomplish His will in our lives and the lives of those around us.
My reminder
this week was a locker room full of men following the gratitude and thankfulness
of an immigrant and the relief of a nurse who, in a crisis of conscience,
needed to be reminded of her inheritance and her Father’s mercy. Given the holy silence that has descended
upon this sanctuary as God has spoken in your hearts this morning, I’m betting
each of us here present has been reminded as well His call upon and His promise
to each one of us in our lives.
In His Peace,
Brian†
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