Sermon for the Sixth Sunday after Pentecost
16 July 2006
The Cathedral of St. Philip, Atlanta
The Rev. Canon Todd D. Smelser, Preacher
Fred Craddock tells the story about a preacher who stood at the backdoor of the church one Sunday, greeting his departing parishioners. One man approached him and said in a stern and serious tone: “This changes everything.” The preacher, not knowing what the man was talking about, said: “What Joe? Joe said: “If what you said in the sermon is true we can’t just go home and do what we thought we were going to do…our world is not right…we are called to put in place here and now God’s reign and God’s care for the planet and every person…Everything has changed!” The preacher, getting a little worried about Joe and his response to the sermon, found himself saying, before he realized it, “Now Joe, don’t get so worked up. I was just preaching!”
Some Sundays our scripture readings allow us to just preach, and neither the preacher nor those of you in the pews are changed very much by what we say and you hear. But some Sundays, when you are given the words of the prophet Amos and the rather gory details of the beheading of St. John the Baptist at Herod’s birthday party, you know that you will not be just preaching.
The vision of the plumb line and God’s certain judgment against Israel strikes an all-too-ominous chord. The prophet decries systemic injustice which is being perpetuated during an era of widespread prosperity in Israel. The plumb line in this vision proclaims the Northern Kingdom to be out of alignment. People like Amaziah, who benefit from the established political and religious systems, cannot hear Amos’ words. They use their power to silence disagreeable prophets. By contrast, Amos understands himself as answerable only to God. Their confrontation reminds us of the ways in which we grow deaf to God because of our desires for strong, stable institutions and our quests to ensure our own national, economic and religious interests. The truth may set us free, but often times it burns smartly when we realize that the prophet’s words are aimed at us.
All four Gospels include accounts of Jesus and his followers attracting the attention and curiosity of regional political leaders. Like the prophets of Israel, they remind us of the thin line between the secular and the sacred, the world of kings and that of God’s messengers. In the context of Roman imperial rule in God’s holy land is the story of John the Baptizer’s gruesome execution at the hands of the Roman puppet Herod Antipas. These stories seem to confirm the public nature of the Christian gospel, and they function to expose corrupt values that stand opposed to the way of God’s reign.
If you thought soap operas were only on afternoon television, then the story of this delightful dysfunctional family in our gospel text reminds us that things haven’t changed much over the centuries. Herod is Herod Antipas, son of that lovely King Herod the Great who slaughtered the holy innocents in Matthew 2. While staying with his half brother, also called Herod, on route to Rome, he has an affair with Herodias, wife of this half brother, and later married her, divorcing his first wife. Mark calls that half brother Philip, and he and Herodias had a daughter. We all know that at the end of her dance, she, at the request of her mother, asks for the head of John the Baptizer on a platter. The deed is done, and John’s martyrdom prefigures Jesus own death at the hands of frightened corrupt political people. The whole account suggests that Herod Antipas has no control of himself, his household and perhaps his political domain. Wickedness runs rampant. It is a political culture in need of repentance. But their self-absorbed corruption and pride render them unable to repent, and so, once again, they destroy the prophetic voice that exposes them.
The story of Herod Antipas and his lurid birthday party function as a sort of morality play that reflects how people, even despite their intentions, are done in by their own deeds and the situations they create. The story also reminds us that the wages of sin are not only imbedded in the human heart, but at systemic, familial and political levels as well. Power corrupts all human institutions, and corrupted power always seems to have deadly effect on the prophets and reformers who dare to speak truth to it.
Part of the function of the Church, it seems to me is to proclaim the Good News, even when the news of the world is pretty bleak. But part of the task of the Church is also to look at the world with critical Christian eyes. A few illustrations of our own predicament:
Last year, the Census Bureau reported that the number of Americans living in poverty rose to 12.7 percent — the fourth year it is risen. Hurricane Katrina, while in its aftermath reminded us of the great American spirit of altruism to those in need; it also uncovered a city in which 40 per cent of its children live in poverty. More than 45 million American citizens do not have health insurance, and our emergency rooms have turned into primary care facilities for those without insurance. One critic said that if only half of the data is correct in the movie An Inconvenient Truth about global warming were true, then we are in very deep trouble. The immigration conversation seems doomed to further separate us. This past week a woman was killed in the Big Dig tunnel in Boston, uncovering what appears to have been faulty construction of that largest of public work projects. North Korea is shooting missiles into the Sea of Japan, and the news in the Middle East, seems to get worse by the hour. And while I am a mostly optimistic and hopeful person, I find that I too am yearning for the prophet’s voice — someone who isn’t just preaching — but is struggling to preach the Gospel of justice that both Amos and Jesus preached. And I am praying harder than ever that God’s truth once again be spoken and heeded. We don’t need just preaching, but preaching which will actually change the way we behave toward one another and toward this earth, our fragile island home.
Perhaps we do need to recover the centrality of the prophetic church, before it is too late. Prophecy doesn’t mean spouting party slogans, or seeking easy answers to complex issues. Prophecy means an enriched vision. The Old Testament prophets knew that prophetic witness always begins with contemplation. Prophets are rarely praised in their lifetimes, but are often seen as embarrassments and irritants. Only in their death are their true values realized.
If we truly believe that the Holy Spirit is leading the church into all truth, then it should be possible and even desirable for Christians of differing opinions to grapple with those contentious issues lovingly, fearlessly and prayerfully and to seek a common mind. And if the Christian community is unable to do this, what hope is there for humanity. If we avoid these issues because they are uncomfortable or we are afraid they will divide the community, what kind of witness are we to the pursuit of truth?
Martin Luther King, in his sermon ‘A knock at midnight’ stressed that the church is not called to be the servant of the state, still less its master, but rather its conscience. That is a theological and spiritual task, one which calls for more and better theology. For if the church is to speak prophetically to the political order, it must do so on the basis of sound theology and profound prayer as well as accurate data and careful analysis.
As Marcus Borg reminds us in THE HEART OF CHRISTIANITY, seeking the political passion of the Bible calls us to a politically engaged spirituality. It is both personal and political, and the message of Jesus and the prophets is about spiritual transformation and political transformation. What we see in Jesus and the Bible answers our deepest longing, to be born again, and the world’s greatest need, the search for the Kingdom of God.
Perhaps we need to give God’s prophets a chance so that our hearts and minds can be transformed and changed into the heart and mind of Christ. Maybe it’s time to hear more than just preaching!
Comments? Contact The Rev. Todd Smelser: tsmelser@stphilipscathedral.org