Sunday, July 12, 2015

Pentecost 7, Year B

Proper 10 -- Amos 7: 7-15; Psalm 85: 8-13; Ephesians 1: 3-14; Mark 6: 14-29

This  homily was given by Fr. Gene Tucker at St. John’s Church in Huntingdon, Pennsylvania, on Sunday, July 12, 2015.

“OF PROPHETS, PROPHECIES AND WHISTLE BLOWERS”
“Oh seer, go, flee away to the land of Judah, earn your bread there, and prophesy there; but never again prophesy at Bethel, for it is the king’s sanctuary, and it is a temple of the kingdom.”

No one likes a prophet.

No one likes to hear prophecy.

No one likes to hear God’s truth, spoken in judgment, for that is what prophecy is.

No one likes a whistleblower.

When I was in the Army, one of the most dreaded words those of us who were in leadership positions ever wanted to hear was:  “Someone has filed an IG (Inspector General) complaint.”

Inspectors General (IGs) are the maintainers of truth.  They function as independent agents whose task it is to ferret out wrongdoing, improper practices and behavior, and corruption.  The prophets of old were the whistle blowers of their day.

And so, today, we have before us two of the great prophets of old:  Amos, who lived in the eighth century BC, and John the Baptist (or Baptizer), who lived at the time of Jesus.

Both of these whistleblowers speak against the corruption that existed in the high places of their day:  Amos speaks against the Northern Kingdom of Israel and its corrupt king, Jeroboam II, and John the Baptist speaks out against the corrupt puppet king, Herod Antipas.

To gain some perspective, it would be well for us to trace the history of the times in which these two prophets lived.

We can begin with Amos’ situation.  In order to understand his situation more fully, let’s back up about 200 years into history:

When King Solomon died in the year 930 BC, the united kingdom that he, his father David, and Saul had ruled over split in two.  The ten tribes in the north separated from the two tribes in the south.  The ten tribes formed the nation of Israel, sometimes called the Northern Kingdom.  The two tribes in the south formed the nation of Judah, sometimes called the Southern Kingdom.

In the south, Solomon’s son, Rehoboam, was king.  His throne was in Jerusalem, and the temple which his father had built remained the center of the religious life of the kingdom.

In the north, however, the situation was very different:  The Northern Kingdom was ruled by Jeroboam I, who reigned from 930 – 910 BC.  Jeroboam set up centers of worship which featured golden calves[1].  In addition to this practice, which adopted some of the ways of the Canaanites who had lived in the land before God’s people came from Egypt to take possession of it, Jeroboam also altered the seasons which the Law of Moses had established.  Finally, Jeroboam I also established a priestly class which was not drawn from the tribe of Levi.  So a completely different way of worshiping was established.  Moreover, it was a way of worshiping not the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, not the way of the Law of Moses (the Torah) but it was the way of idolatrous worship.

From there, things go downhill steadily until the time of King Jeroboam II, who ruled over the Northern Kingdom from 781 – 753 BC.  By the eighth century, and from all outward appearances, things were going well for the Northern Kingdom (and for the Southern Kingdom, as well): The kingdom enjoyed a period of peace with its neighbors, and the economy was doing well.  But underneath this patina of good fortune was another, ugly truth:  The ruling class exploited the poor and the underclass, using false weights in their trading, and ignoring their plight.  While those in power reclined on ivory beds, their poorer neighbors suffered terribly.

It is against this thoroughly corrupt situation that God calls Amos to go from the Southern Kingdom of Judah to speak God’s judgment against the people of the Northern Kingdom of Israel.

Talk about a lonely occupation:  Can you imagine such a call coming from God?  Put into today’s terms, such a call might go something like this:  “Your name, I want you to go North Korea and tell their ruler that his ways are corrupt.”  I think, if I got such a call, I might be tempted to say in response, “But, Lord, they’ll kill me if I go to do that!”

That pretty well sums up the task that Amos was called to undertake:  To go to the enemy and tell them that they’re all messed up, and that, unless they straighten up, the good times that they think they will last a long time are about to come to an end.  Of course, history tells us that Amos’ prediction came true, for the Assyrians swept into the Northern Kingdom and destroyed it in the year 722 BC, deporting most of its population in the process.

So that is Amos’ situation.  Amos is an independent voice, speaking the truth to power.  That is the prophet’s task, oftentimes.  The prophet’s voice is the voice of the whistle blower.  No one likes a whistle blower.

John the Baptist is a very similar situation some 800 years (nearly) later:  The people in the Holy Land are living under oppressive Roman occupation.  The Romans had established a dynasty of puppet kings, of which King Herod the Great (who ruled from 37 – 4 BC.  Upon his death, the area he ruled over was divided among three of his sons.  One of these sons, Herod Antipas, is the subject of our gospel reading from Mark, heard this morning.  Herod Antipas ruled as a puppet king from 4 BC – 39 AD.

The Herodian dynasty was marked by all sorts of immorality, of which the birthday party which Mark describes is an example.  No doubt, the dance which was performed by Herodias’ daughter[2], was an exotic dance (it would be “X rated” today).  Furthermore, the Herodians engaged in a culture of easy marriage and divorce, that is to say, they would divorce one partner in order to marry another.  It is this practice that John speaks against.

Prophets are unpopular.  Speaking truth to power can cost a person his/her head, as it did, literally, for John.

The voice of prophecy isn’t a welcome voice, for who among us wants to hear that God’s judgment is that we have fallen short of His expectations of us?

But the voice of the prophet is an essential voice.  It is the voice of the whistle blower, a voice which ferrets out corrupt practices, a voice which calls us to account for the ways in which we live, in which we think, in which we act.

The prophet’s voice may come from an unexpected place, from a person who – by normal human standards – is a “nobody”, as Amos was.  Amos describes himself not as a prophet, but as a dresser of sycamore trees and as a shepherd.  Amos was an ordinary, common person by the standards of his day.

The prophet’s voice comes, born out of independence from the accepted ways by which things are ordered.  The prophet’s voice calls us to amend our ways, to live as God would have us live.

The prophet’s voice may arise as we read the pages of sacred Scripture.  It may arise as we commune with God in prayer.  It may arise through the promptings of the Holy Spirit, whose power to enlighten and convict weigh heavily on us.  It may arise through faithful preaching of God’s word.  It may arise when – out of nowhere (seemingly) and from a totally unexpected source – someone will say something to us that rings with the truth of God’s prophetic voice.

As uncomfortable as it is to be in the presence of a prophet, and to hear the prophet’s voice, we stand in continual need of the prophet and the prophet’s voice.

May we, through the power and influence of the Holy Spirit, be enabled to recognize the words of the prophet and to amend our ways accordingly.

AMEN.


[1]   The presence of the golden calves is reminiscent of Aaron’s disobedience in fashioning a golden calf at the base of Mt. Sinai as Moses was receiving the law from God at the top of the mountain.  See Exodus 32: 1–35.
[2]   Neither Mark nor Matthew, both of whom describe this birthday party in their gospel accounts (see Matthew 14: 1–12) name Herodias’ daughter.  We learn that her name was Salome from the first century historian, Josephus.  This birthday party and Salome’s performance became the subject of a play written by Oscar Wilde in 1891.  Richard Strauss also wrote an opera by the same name, based on Wilde’s play, in 1905.