Methodist pastor J. Cliff
Christopher tells the story
of a young parson fresh out of seminary.
The bishop sent him to a
little church in rural Kentucky.
His first Sunday, he
preached fervently on the evils of tobacco.
After church, the lay
leaders took him aside and said,
“Pastor you can’t talk about tobacco here. This is
Kentucky.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said.
Next Sunday he held forth
on the evils of alcohol.
After church, they said,
“Pastor, Jack Daniels built this Church
and Jim Beam pays your salary.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he answered.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he answered.
Next Sunday, he warned
them against gambling,
especially playing the horses.
After church, the lay
leaders said,
“Son, you’ve got one more chance.”
That’s what happened to
the prophet Amos in last week’s lesson.
He had prophesied against
the policies of King Jereboam
at the Shrine of Bethel.
The priest said to him,
“You’re not from around here, are you?
Get on back home,
boy.
We don’t have that
kind of talk here.
This is /the
king’s sanctuary, the temple of the kingdom.”/
The irony is that Bethel
means “house of God.”
But the priest said,
“it’s the king’s sanctuary.
We say what pleases the
king here.”.
Today we hear a little
more of the message
so we get a better idea what the king didn’t like.
“Hear this, you that trample on the needy,
and bring to ruin the poor of the land,
saying, ‘When will the new moon be over
so that we may sell grain;
and the Sabbath, so that we may offer wheat for
sale?
We will make the ephah small and the shekel great,
and practice deceit with false balances,
buying the poor for silver
and the needy for a pair of sandals,
and selling the sweepings of the wheat.’
The LORD has sworn by the pride of Jacob:
Surely I will never forget any of
their deeds.”
God didn’t like the way the economy ran.
The poor were stuck in poverty while the rich
multiplied their wealth.
But the priest said,
“You
can’t talk about that Amos.
That’s politics. That’s business.
Religion isn’t about those things.
Religion is about our inner feelings.”
But Amos was following the way of Moses.
Pharaoh didn’t much like it when he
delivered God’s message “Let my
people go.”
Pharaoh said “Shut up, Moses. That’s politics.
Slavery
is none of your God’s business.”
So when King Jereboam told Amos,
“Shut
up, that’s politics,” Amos kept on.
That memo on what religion can’t talk about,
Amos
didn’t get it.
Neither did Isaiah, Hosea, Mary, or Jesus.
Neither did Chief Albert John Lutuli whom we
remember today,
or the women our church
commemorated yesterday,
Harriet
Tubman, Sojourner Truth, Amelia Bloomer,
and
Elizabeth Cady Stanton.
Neither did John Wilberforce, Dorothy Day,
Thomas
Merton, Daniel Berrigan,
Martin Luther King, or Desmond
Tutu.
My question today is this:
What
is the business of religion?
Or: just whose sanctuary is this?
Christianity has teachings on wealth and power.
The Episcopal Church has gospel-based positions
on matters of wealth and power.
So do our mainline and Catholic ecumenical
partners.
We call them the social justice teachings of the
church.
But we usually don’t talk about them,
because
our teachings on wealth and power
are not popular with some of the
wealthy and powerful.
We’re too afraid someone will say,
“that’s
not the business of religion.
This is the king’s sanctuary, the temple of the
kingdom.”
Even the most powerful people in the church
sometimes
lack the courage of our Christian
convictions.
Despite the strong economic justice teachings of
the Roman Church,
Pope Francis recently told the
American nuns
to
back off on demanding better care for the poor
and
stick to abortion.
Religion can talk about sex, but not money or power.
But who said that?
Was it Roger Williams, the father of religious
freedom
in America?
No. He said the government should not interfere
in a
person’s intimate relationship with God,
his
practices of prayer and worship.
But Roger Williams vigorously applied the gospel
message
to
the social issues of his day,
particularly
the rights of Native Americans.
Was it Thomas Jefferson who gave us the 1st
Amendment?
Again, no. Jefferson said that the government
should
not establish a religion and make people join it.
But Jefferson did not hesitate to call for days of
fasting and prayer
to
support the American struggle for liberty and justice.
Christians have been at the forefront of social
movements
from
abolition, to women’s suffrage, to nuclear disarmament.
So tell me what is the business of religion,
and
whose sanctuary is this?
If you want to understand movements in philosophy,
it’s
like a criminal investigation. Follow the money.
American wealth exploded after the Civil War
and
the concentration of wealth increased.
That’s when philosophers turned legitimate love of
county
into a state religion, with its
own rituals, sacred objects,
secular saints, sacred places and a monopoly
on questions of justice.
They pushed traditional religions to the sideline.
The distribution of wealth and power were no longer
our concern.
Freedom, justice, equality, and peace,
were no longer our concerns.
None of the things that occupy the time, energy,
thoughts,
and passions of most of humanity
most
of the time were our concern.
Religion became irrelevant to most of real life.
What then are we here to do? What will the king
allow us to say?
The business of a religion is to stir up certain
vague emotions
in
its followers occasionally.
Some want to feel that way for an hour a week.
Others get by on an hour a month.
Others just want that feeling twice a year.
Modern religion is a wisp of an idea
embroidered with sentimental
lace.
Even if it’s pumped up and passionate
during
the weekly hour of religious feeling,
even
if it’s a mega-church where everyone
is
happily entertained and high on Jesus.
it doesn’t reach us where we live.
It doesn’t matter on Monday.
But the religion of Moses, Amos, and Jesus
is
mostly about what goes down on Monday.
Amos’s God said Israel was treating the poor badly,
and
there would be consequences.
God said that if Israel persisted in economic
injustice
there
would be a famine – but not like we think.
God said,
“I will send a famine on the land;
not a famine of bread, or a thirst for water,
but of hearing the words of the LORD.
They shall wander from sea to sea,
and from north to east;
t they shall run to and fro, seeking the
word of the LORD,
but they shall not find it.”
Recently, God has turned my understanding
of
religion upside down.
This passage sums up that reversal.
I used to think people heard God’s word first.
Then, inspired by God’s love, they went out
into
the world doing justice and loving mercy.
But Amos puts it the other way around.
And it fits what I see in the Christians I know
– especially the young ones.
Justice comes first. Spiritual experience follows.
Serving God’s mission of mercy comes first.
Touching the world’s pain with our bare hands
opens
our hearts to hear God’s word.
If we aren’t at work in the mission,
we
can forget about authentic spiritual experience.
We can forget the peace of God
that
passes human understanding.
The mission is where God shapes our souls.
The mission is where real joy can be found.
The mission is the field where we see our Savior
--
nowhere else, the mission field.