Monday Meditation
Many years ago, when I began pastoral ministry, my mentor advised me wisely that the most difficult texts are often the ones that yield surprising insights for living faithfully in our time. Do not run from them, he said. Explore them. He was right. I should add that the events of last night in Pennsylvania, do not change the vocation of the church to listen carefully to scripture and discern a way for forward, bearing witness to God’s way. We do know that our vocation includes sympathy for the victims of violence and refusing to engage in retribution to settle political disputes.
He reminded me that attending to scripture, even the most difficult, forces us to hear what we would rather not hear and see what we would rather avoid. It describes an ancient world remarkably similar to our own, and then invites us consider how to live in God’s new world, as followers of Jesus, who came to redeem and transform this world by his cross and resurrection. These texts, assigned for this Sunday, Amos: 7:7-15 and Mark 6:14-29, have been described as texts of terror.
In a vision, Amos sees God holding a plumb line in the midst of the people, as a carpenter might hold it against a wall, suggesting that the whole country is out of moral alignment. It must be demolished. Mark shows us the seamy side of corrupt politics, lies and deception in high place. In short the stench of death fills the text, literally and figuratively.
You might respond, what’s new? This is all too familiar to us. Sadly, murderous plots in high places no longer surprise us. Nor do sexual peccadilloes; they have become so outlandish as to harden even the most tender hearted.
I am stricken by the last lines of Psalm 12, which read “Lord, watch over us and save us from this generation forever. The wicked prowl on every side and that which is worthless is highly prized by everyone.” (Psalm 12:7-8)
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Amos and John the Baptist both illuminate what happens when God’s truth – in the voice of the prophet – confronts political power. It all takes places right at the center of government power, and includes all the subjects we’ve come to know well: greed, corrupt leaders, political power mixed with personal insecurity which leads to cowardice, which leads to moral blindness, and ultimately the murder of God’s prophet, who is responsible for telling the truth that unveils the corruption lying at the heart it all.
I find it interesting that all Amos and John the Baptist do is tell the truth, as they understand it given to them by God. The sole purpose is correcting the one in power. In both cases, the consequences of truth telling are dramatic: Amos is told to flee for his life; John the Baptist loses his life. What are we to make of people in light of this scenario?
Is it that powerful people, or rather ordinary people in positions of power, do not yield easily to truth that uncovers corruption, even when that truth is understood as God’s truth, and not just personal opinion? Is this an example of the well known saying, power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely? The priest in the court of Israel, and Herod both knew what was at stake in the decisions they made to reject what they heard.
In the 2nd century, Tertullian, that Church Father with a razor wit, said, “a dung heap doesn’t stink until it is kicked.”
I believe the vocation of God’s truth tellers means occasionally kicking the social dung heap. Of course, telling the truth comes with consequences, and not just the stinking fall out from upsetting the status quo. Every whistle blower will tell you that it is far easier to settle for less. Yet, at some point one accept the consequences of telling the truth as the price you pay for personal integrity. When the child shouts “the Emperor has no clothes,” it’s not only the insecurity of the king that is exposed, but the entire social network of duplicity, deception and cowardice.
Amos and John the Baptist follow their assignment to speak God’s truth and the consequences are severe. The same is true for Jesus Christ who suffered death on a cross for the sake of God’s truth. I think this is the reason the Church attends carefully to these texts.
The followers of Jesus risk telling the truth, that the ways of this world are not the ways of God. And yes, it’s the Church’s obligation to kick the social dung heap. We are whistle blowers who accept that consequences are the price one pays for integrity. In the end, whatever suffering we endure is slight compared to the cross that Jesus endured for the redemption of this world.
Flannery O’Connor, the late great writer, once said of her short stories, “There is a moment in every story in which the presence of grace can be felt as it waits to be accepted or rejected, even though the reader may not recognize this moment.”
Amos holds the plumb line of God’s justice over a wayward people and a king, drunk with power. I wonder if this the moment of grace – God’s unmerited, undeserved favor - waiting to be accepted or rejected?
John the Baptist confronts Herod, naming the moral consequences of his foolishness. Herod appears to nod with recognition. His sad eyes say it all. I wonder if this is the moment of grace – God’s unmerited, undeserved favor – waiting to be accepted or rejected?
Yet, kicking the dung heap is not all there is to the Church’s vocation, neither is blowing the whistle.
Ultimately, the Church believes that the stench of death is overcome by the fragrance of God’s gracious Word. That word is Jesus Christ, who came to us filled with grace and truth. When Pontius Pilate asked what is truth? Jesus responded with his own life.
Jesus Christ, isn’t he the very fragrance of grace that overcomes the stench of death?
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Good Shepherd Lutheran Church
July 14, 2024
