Epiphany 4A
February 2, 2014
Micah 6:1-8
INTRODUCTION
Today we get to hear a whole lineup of great texts. First, from Micah. You likely have heard before the final verse of our passage: “Do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with your God.” But maybe you are less familiar with the lead up. Picture this: it is the 8th century BCE, and Israel is in a tough spot – not only is the Assyrian army about to attack, but the leaders of Israel have strayed, trampling the poor rather than leading with justice and mercy. But, Micah says, it’s not too late to change your ways! The passage begins with God saying, “What more could I have done for you, people? Answer me!” Caught in their own mess, the people respond by offering God all manner of outrageous and extravagant offerings. And Micah says that what God has wanted all along from them is not stuff, but rather, to live a life of justice, mercy, and humility, not only when they are in trouble, but every day.
The Gospel reading brings us the beloved Beatitudes from Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount. This is Jesus’ first sermon, first teaching, in Matthew’s Gospel, and he’s really laying out his mission and purpose, showing us what that kingdom of heaven he’s been proclaiming really looks like. And it’s not what we think! The message of the Beatitudes is completely counterintuitive, blessing those who we would not ordinarily think of as blessed.
Micah, Matthew, and maybe even 1 Corinthians are texts that will be familiar to many. But as you listen today, try to hear them anew. We all come here each week with particular joys and celebrations, pains and struggles, and this word can speak differently to us depending on what we bring. Let God’s word speak to you wherever you are today. Let’s listen.
[READ]
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
I was a young and idealistic recent college graduate. I had in my hand a Bachelor’s degree in music and religion. I had completed a thesis exploring what it means in Lutheran theology to love and serve your neighbor. I had wept over Luther’s powerful words, and had pored over the poignant words of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. I had grappled so deeply with their insights that I couldn’t see myself doing anything after college but being God’s hands in the world. And so, I applied to serve as an ELCA Young Adult in Global Mission, for a one-year mission abroad. I was assigned to spend my year of global mission in a village in Slovakia.
I was thrilled. The program suited me and my interests so well. The description I received for my site included building a village youth group, working with the choir, and helping develop church programing. All of the things I loved and would be so good at with my particular skill set. I couldn’t wait to begin.
The week after I arrived with the five other Americans spending the year in Slovakia, Hurricane Katrina hit the Gulf Coast. We six Americans huddled around a computer, watching footage and reading reports of what was happening at home. We were devastated, and riddled with guilt. Here we thought we were going to serve some people in need abroad, but instead we were watching the struggles of people in our own country. Why weren’t we there helping them? My conviction about being in Slovakia to serve the Lord started to wane.
A few weeks later, I arrived in my village. I met the pastor, a Slovak and German speaking Elvis Presley look-alike. Between my little bit of German, and his little bit of English, Pastor Miroslav told me what I would be doing that year for them: I would be teaching English to middle schoolers.
What? Are you sure? I wasn’t prepared for teaching English in any way – I had no experience, no education classes, no materials, not really any desire. There was also already an English teacher in the village. I would just be following her around and correcting the students’ grammar and pronunciation. This wasn’t quite what I had in mind for my year of global mission. And especially once I saw how apathetic the kids were about learning English at all, any desire I might have had disappeared. In my mind, I had no purpose there at all – I would just be doing something they already had someone to do, that I wasn’t even any good at, that no one seemed to really want me doing anyway. I was good at so many things. I had so many skills and talents – why weren’t they utilizing those, so I could, you know, feel good about my contribution?
All of that wisdom and knowledge I had acquired through my years of schooling suddenly meant nothing. All of those talents and skills I was so proud of didn’t really help at all with the work God had called me to in that village. I was desperately lonely. Even though I had many things in my life there that were worthy of deep and heartfelt gratitude, I felt emptied of many of the things that I loved about life. All year long, I doubted why I was even there, what God could possibly have had in mind sending me to this place.
Hindsight, as they say, is 20/20. It wasn’t until well through the year and after I returned that I began to make some sense of that time. I had gone to Slovakia with a list of skills and gifts I thought I should use. Notice the pronouns there – I thought that I should use them. I had an agenda. I had a vision of what that year was going to be like. It was not until I was stripped of the comfort and familiarity of that, that I saw what God needed me to see: it was there, in Slovakia, you see, out of my comfort zone, that I discerned a call to be a pastor.
In our reading today from Micah, God is calling out Israel for their infidelity and injustice. In response, Israel begs, “With what shall I come before the Lord?” What can I do to make it up to you, God? They proceed to list several outrageous offerings – thousands of rams, rivers full of oil, even a firstborn child, presumably acting under the assumption that these physical gifts would make God happy and set things right.
But God will not have any of it: “What do I require of you but these three things,” God says. “Do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with your God.”
I get the first two. Doing justice, loving kindness – that is what I was trying to do when I volunteered to spend the year in a Slovak village. That is what we as the church are always striving to do – to be God’s hands and God’s love in the world. But walking humbly with our God… that is something altogether different.
What does that look like, to walk humbly with our God? Apparently it does not look like me bringing my fancy degree and skill set to Slovakia to offer what I think Slovakia needs. It does not look like a thousand rams or rivers full of oil. I suspect it doesn’t look like a lot of things we try to do on our own. So, what does it look like?
Deacon Emily doesn’t start officially until tomorrow, but this week we had a chance to sit and chat about some upcoming things. She made the observation that this congregation has so many wonderful things going on, and so many capable people to do them, but she wondered if there might be a bit of burnout. She said in her own life she has experienced this happening when she gets too focused on the serving part of her call to Word and Service, and not enough on the word part. “I need that reminder sometimes,” she said, “to stop doing, and take some time to dwell in the Word, and listen to God, so I can be fed and nourished. That is what gives me the strength and fortitude, even if I don’t have the energy, to be able to keep going and doing God’s work.”
Boy did that hit home! How quickly I want to move to relying on my own skills and talents (just like I expected to do in Slovakia) and forget to listen – listen both to God in the Word, and to those I want to serve. Instead, I think, “Oh I know what is needed, and I know just how to fix this!” without taking the time to simply sit, listen, receive, and be fed.
The Rev. Stephen Bouman, who served as bishop of the Metro NY Synod, described this as engaging in the three Great Listenings: listening to God, listening to each other, and listening to the world. He describes this a model for mission, in which we first listen to God in the Word, and then go sit at the literal or metaphorical kitchen tables where stories and values are passed from generation to generation. We sit at the kitchen tables of others, bringing no agenda, in fact bringing nothing at all but ears to hear and eyes to see what that other person has to offer. And there, we listen – to God, to each other, and to the world.
As I consider this as a ministry model, I feel exhilarated – but also terribly vulnerable in the same way I felt vulnerable when I discovered that nothing about my time in Slovakia would be as I had envisioned it. It takes a lot of courage to go into something with no expectation or preparation, to leave behind the idea that we must do something, and instead simply to be open to what God might do or say to and for us in that situation. It’s also just really hard.
But it also seems to me, that this is getting a lot closer to what it means to “walk humbly with your God.” To enter into prayer, yes, but into everything we do simply ready to receive what is offered. To empty ourselves of what we think we should offer, and instead to hear, through the Word and through our neighbors, what God has to offer.
It is counter-cultural. It is scary. But putting aside the expectation of contributing something important or fixing something, and instead simply being open to receive – is this not what grace is like, the very grace on which our faith depends and is built? For when we are able to put aside our frantic and overly extravagant offerings, and stop talking for just a moment, and instead listen and hear – listen to each other and the world, and to the Word of God – we will discover what God is giving us. We will find the hand of God reaching out to us to offer love, grace, and mercy – offered not because of our credentials or our talents, but simply because God is God, and grace and unmerited love are what God is all about.
Let us pray… Gracious God, we are always so eager to do, do, do. Help us remember also to listen to your will and your promise of grace, so that we might not only know how to do justice and love kindness, but also to walk humbly with you. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
