Proper 27 :: Amos 5: 18–24; Psalm 70; I Thessalonians
4: 13–18; Matthew 25: 1–13
This is the homily
by Fr. Gene Tucker that was given at St. John’s, Huntingdon, Pennsylvania on
Sunday, November 12, 2017.
“HOW
DOES THE KINGDOM COME?”
(Homily texts: Amos 5: 18-24 & Matthew 25: 1–13)
Whenever
I read or hear this morning’s passage from Amos, this question almost always
arises in my mind: “Wouldn’t it be great if Amos could have been just a little
more clear in his meaning?” Of course, the question arises with a considerable
touch of humor, for the truth is that Amos is bluntly, abundantly clear in his
warning to the people of the Northern Kingdom of Israel, sometime in the eighth
century before Jesus’ coming.
As I
read Amos’ warning, and hear Jesus’ teaching about the way in which the kingdom
of heaven comes, I think we can make a case for connecting the two passages.
The connection, it seems to me, has to do with the warnings that are present in
Amos’ pronouncement, and – in Jesus’ case – to the warnings that have preceded
today’s parable. In Amos’ case, it is God’s coming judgment on the people of
the Northern Kingdom. I the case of Jesus’ parable, the coming of the kingdom
calls for all of God’s people to be alert and ready whenever the kingdom comes.
In each case, there is a warning against complacency.
Let’s
unpack each passage a little to aid in our quest to connect these two passages.
We
begin with Amos.
Amos
was a shepherd and a dresser of sycamore trees, as the beginning of the book
which bears his name tells us. He was from an area not far from the town of
Bethlehem, which is located in the Southern Kingdom of Judah. But God sent him
north to warn the people of the Northern Kingdom of Israel that their wicked
ways were sure to bring about God’s judgment.
So
Amos already has one strike against him, for he is – in essence – a foreigner,
a resident of another country, Judah.
But
Amos utters God’s warnings, anyway. “Why
do you desire the day of the Lord,” he asks, adding that the “day of the Lord
is a day of darkness, not light.” Amos goes after the empty sort of religion
that puts great emphasis on fine, liturgical practice, but which is coupled to
everyday practices of deceit. While the rich in the Northern Kingdom lie on
beds of ivory and drink wine, the poor are cheated by the rich with the false
weights that were being used in business. No wonder that the king’s priest
tells Amos to go back where he came from, and to prophesy there. In the days in
which Amos labored, there was great complacency among the inhabitants of the
Northern Kingdom. From all outward appearance, things were going well, for the
rich, at least. The kingdom seemed to be economically secure, politically
stable and militarily secure. But all that would change when the Assyrians
swept in from the north and the east and conquered the Northern Kingdom,
scattering many of its inhabitants into exile.
Just
as Amos’ pronouncement is coupled to words of warning, so, too, is Jesus’
parable coupled to warnings. In the chapters just preceding our reading of the
Parable of the Ten Bridesmaids, Jesus utters warnings against the leaders of
God’s people 2,000 years ago. They – like the rich of Amos’ day – were
complacent, sure of their favored place in the society of the Jewish people.
They cared not for the poor among them, and were quick to parcel out God’s
people according to those who were clean by the reckoning of the Law of Moses,
and those who were unclean. And, so at the beginning of chapter 23 (beginning
with verse 13) of Matthew’s gospel account, we read Jesus’ seven warnings to
the scribes and the Pharisees. This
phrase begins most all of them: “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!”
In
each case, in the situation Amos faced, and in the situation that Jesus faced,
those who benefitted from the structures of society felt secure in their
position in the scheme of things then pertaining. No doubt the rich and the
powerful of the Northern Kingdom felt that God’s kingdom was to be found in
their very midst. Meanwhile, the scribes and the Pharisees looked to bring
about God’s kingdom by their scrupulous observance of the requirements of the
Law of Moses. When the kingdom came, they were sure, it would be brought in
with great pomp and fanfare, as the promised Messiah would re-establish the
kingdom that they had heard about in the days of King David.
All
of this brings us to the question: How does the kingdom come?
Does
the kingdom of God come with great and observable events? Or, does the kingdom
come in everyday words and actions?
The
answer seems to be that the kingdom comes in both ways.
Certainly,
Jesus’ eventual return in glory, which is a theme of our Advent observance, is
an example of the dramatic inbreaking of the kingdom into human affairs. We
affirm this eventual reality whenever we recite the Nicene or Apostles’ Creeds,
which affirm the truth that Jesus will return in great glory someday, in some way.
But
the kingdom also comes quietly, silently, prompting us to be vigilant (as our
parable this morning admonishes us) and to look for its coming. It is found
whenever justice rolls down, as Amos said. It comes whenever we, acting in
God’s love, care for the least of those around us.
The
powerful of Jesus’ day missed the coming of the kingdom because they were
looking for some great, big event to herald the coming of a future Messiah. But
the Messiah came according to God’s plan, not according to theirs. And so the
Messiah was born in a stable, and the Messiah was from the “other side of the
tracks”, from Galilee, and the Messiah wound up on a cross outside the walls of
the Holy City. But then, that same Messiah rose from the dead, quietly,
silently, but with His flesh and His life intact.
And
so, the kingdom comes by the action of this risen Messiah, and the kingdom is
revealed to those to whom God chooses to reveal it. And oftentimes, God chooses
to reveal His kingdom to the least and the lost, but not to those who are full
of their own pride and place in the world.
AMEN.
