From lamentation to larceny
Commentary
Our texts today take us over a varied landscape. Any one of them could take the preacher and the congregation in a different direction from the others: Jeremiah to the Wailing Wall; Paul and Timothy to the steps of the capitol; the unrighteous steward to behind-closed-doors dealings.
But they all hold together on the theme of how one can intercede with God on behalf of those for whom one cares and shares a common destiny. Jeremiah interceded for "my poor people" (Jeremiah 8:19) with questioning tears. Timothy is urged by Paul to lead the Ephesians in advocating with God on behalf of the civil authorities. Even an unrighteous steward acts as arbiter to avoid small claims court. Finally, of course, Jesus is named the "one mediator between God and humankind" (1 Timothy 2:5) who guarantees the salvation that arises out of the very heart of God.
Jeremiah 8:18--9:1
When God speaks, the prophet speaks. "Thus says the Lord" is the herald cry to perk the ears of those who need to hear. In this text, it appears that we have the words of Jeremiah lamenting the fate of the people. Could it be that when the prophet speaks, God speaks?
Jeremiah has been called "the weeping prophet." He had the uncompromising and unwelcome task of announcing the demise of Judah, the destruction of the temple, and the exile of God's favored ones. Not only was his mouth into his work, but also his heart. In today's text, we see how much his heart is in the prophecy he has been given to deliver. Jeremiah himself shares in the pain of what is happening to the people, whose future will not be in the Promised Land, but in a land of exile. In the statements he has heard and now repeats, we can hear his own questioning and his own dismay: Where is our God? Why have we blatantly disregarded the commands of God? When will we be saved from this catastrophe?
These are questions of lamentation that arise out of a wounded heart. "My heart is sick" (8:18). He would later fill another book with such anguish; but for now, he bears his soul publicly, tear-stained and dismayed.
Can it be that when we hear the prophet speak, we hear the voice of God? That is to say, do these words from Jeremiah's angst express the very turmoil that ravages the heart of the living God, who claims these rebellious children as his own? Are we getting a glimpse into the sorrow of God's wrath, which he exercises in justice but also in pain -- God's own pain? What grief God must bear, having to wait with his people for history to clock forward in order to answer the questions raised against heaven: "Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there?" (8:22). The balm will be in Gilead in time, "the fullness of time had come" (Galatians 4:4). The physician will stride upon the landscape of a people in need of healing (see Luke 4:23). But until that time arrives, there will be weeping "day and night for the slain of my poor people!" (9:1). Thus says the prophet; thus says the Lord.
1 Timothy 2:1-7
Paul charged Timothy to remain in Ephesus as guardian of the faith (1 Timothy 1:3), for there were some there extrapolating crazy notions. These they were passing on as faithful commentary about Christ's death and resurrection for the salvation of the world. Timothy was to provide oversight for and nurture of the congregation, holding them to the teachings of Paul. We would expect this concern from Paul, who was so clear on the differences between the law and the gospel, between the "myths and ... speculations" (1:4) of human minds (see also 2 Peter 1:16) and the revelation of God.
It is refreshing also to receive Paul's very practical concerns for the public life of the Christian community. Complementary to Romans 13:1-7, he expresses his sense of Christian responsibility to engage in prayer for all, especially mentioning those in public office. This is not only a matter of Christian compassion, it is also a matter of Christian citizenship, living "a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and dignity" (2:2). Our feet need to be grounded below, though our vision is set above.
There is purpose in good citizenship, even beyond a "quiet and peaceable life." That purpose is the same evangelical one that propels the overt preaching of the gospel, namely, that everyone be saved and come to the knowledge of the truth in Jesus Christ (2:4). From the chancel to the curb, the Christian life is to witness to the one, "who gave himself as a ransom for all" (2:6).
Paul's vision for the gospel is quite extensive and inclusive. It is "for all" (2:6 and also expressed in 2:1, 4). In this text for today, he is applying the contemporary notion of thinking globally and acting locally, as he advises Timothy to lead the local congregation in Ephesus to pursue the common good in public life in the name of Jesus. For Paul personally, his efforts were to be directed specifically with the Gentiles, wherever they may be. That is why he traveled. His locus was the Roman Empire, while Timothy's at this time was Ephesus.
Luke 16:1-13
If we go back to the beginning of chapter 15, we can surmise that the three parables there as well as this parable of the unrighteous steward were spoken to the disciples within earshot of the tax collectors, sinners and Pharisees. One of the remarkable things about Jesus' teaching is that it is not aimed at a narrow audience, nor is it esoteric in nature such that only a privileged few can truly comprehend what he was talking about. Jesus spoke, for the most part, for all to hear in a way that most could understand, if they had ears to hear.
The theme in Jesus' words for today is stewardship. In the Bible, stewardship means using time-conditioned goods according to timeless values. Jesus applauds the widow who gave so generously (all that she had) out of the abundance of her heart (Luke 21:1-4). Paul applies this principle in one of his best stewardship texts, where he writes, "God is able to provide you with every blessing in abundance [timeless values], so that by always having enough of everything [time-conditioned goods], you may share abundantly in every good work" (2 Corinthians 9:8).
What does Jesus mean when he describes the unrighteous steward as wasting the rich man's goods? Was it that the steward was lax in retrieving what had been loaned to others? Was he foolishly investing the resources in unprofitable ends? Was he stealing from the owner for his own personal gain? Whichever way one may wish to spin this, the steward comes up short in fulfilling his responsibilities to the owner.
It is remarkable that the owner gives the steward the authority to settle matters before he is dismissed. The steward sets out to get back what he can for the owner. He acts like a collection agent, retrieving at least something on outstanding bills, rather than letting them go unsettled. There is advantage in this to the owner, as well as the debtor and also the steward. The owner gets more than he would have gotten if matters were left as is; the debtor satisfies the debt with less than formerly required. The steward comes out of this with a compliment (shrewdness, 1:8) from the owner and with friends on the outside (1:9), where he is now cast.
One of the things to notice about the steward is that he deals with each situation differently. The one who owed oil only had to pay back 50 percent of the debt. The one who owed wheat, 80 percent. Do we make of this that the steward had a sense of fairness with the varying circumstances of the debtors? Or, is the steward more concerned to appease the one owing oil, because he will make a better friend after all is said and done? There may be several motivating factors (some even contradictory) in any given act.
What can be made of verse 9? Is Jesus telling us to be wily and get the most use out of "unrighteous mammon" while we can? Or is he speaking tongue-in-cheek about just how far such efforts can really take one? After all, who are these people who can "receive you into the eternal homes"? Are they none other than those who may remember you fondly for a while, and then forget as life takes other directions? Are they those who will pass on your legacy to posterity, until you are but a faded memory at best -- as if that is ultimately important?
Jesus finally gets to his point in all of this parable-speak, when he explains how important it is to be faithful in the little things of life as a reflection that one values the truly important things of life. That is to say, one serves God by handling the matters of the world with judicious care, in a way that gives God glory and advances the kingdom, not one's own position. Like the steward, we will get into serious trouble if we try to switch the priorities around and treat the mammon of this world as if it had lasting value.
Application
One of the traditional disciplines that has carried Christians through ages of crises has been meditation on the cross. Peering into the suffering of Christ has the power to shape the soul. Profound mystics in their retreats as well as simple believers in their homes find humility and courage when faced with the suffering of Jesus on the cross. To perceive in some small way the self-giving, self-sacrificing heart of God for his people puts all other human predicaments into a unique perspective. Not that they are diminished or dismissed; but they are contextualized into a more grand meaning. They are engulfed by the fullness of God revealed through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus.
Related to this is the spirit with which so many come to worship these days. Closest to people's heart are such concerns as "How does this relate to my daily life?" "What will I get out of it?" "Will I like what I experience?" "How comfortable do I feel in this setting?" Harder to find is the heart that humbly draws near to God in holy space to present the offerings of praise and adoration, prayer and alms, silence and obedience.
Even when life is collapsing around one, we should bring the hardest of questions before God. It is not necessary to be strong before God; reality actually keeps us rather weak, fragile, sick and in need of healing from sole to soul. When we can be so honest with ourselves and also transparent before God, we are in a position to receive God's blessing of presence and promise, as expressed in Psalm 23: the deepest, darkest valley need not be cause for fear, for the Lord, like the good shepherd with rod and staff, walks with the vulnerable sheep.
A vital part of the Christian perception of God is that, in Jesus, God assumes the very cries, griefs, questions, dismay and tears of his people, voicing their anguish from the cross, mediating a saving grace through the apparent weakness of crucifixion itself. Jesus stands in the line of fire between a vulnerable humanity and the enemies of sin and death that would force us out of favor and relationship with God.
Intercessory prayer is a practical application of the intercession Jesus accomplishes for us on behalf of God the Father. Paul writes about this in Romans 8:34 and 2 Corinthians 5:16-21. Jesus is the very expression of God to us and for us. Our intercession on behalf of others is not quite the same as Jesus' role of intercession, because "There is one God" (1 Timothy 2:5). In Jesus, God is not called upon to respond with favor for the sake of the people. In Jesus, God himself is exercising intercession for the ones God loves. Because of this, God does not set up Jesus as a "middleman," similar to the one who is to work out the differences between two contrary parties. Jesus is "God our Savior" (1 Timothy 2:3) who comes to guarantee (the Greek word for "mediator" also carries the sense of "guarantor") that the will of God is characterized by a saving grace that extends to all people. The ransom given by Jesus' life is not a price paid to God to deposit a people into his heavenly account, but is the price God himself paid to buy a people for his own heart.
In contrast to this, when we pray for others, we step forward between those who have our concern and the One who is concerned for them. God's love encompasses all, so we are urged to pray for all leaders in public life, presumably beginning with one's own local officials. Paul becomes an example of this, insofar as he was the apostle to the Gentiles. Just as he stepped outside the box of expectations and expanded his world to include the Gentiles, so is the Christian to step outside the box and reach out with the compassion of Christ to all, whoever they are and wherever they may be. Our prayers will reveal where our hearts are at; our prayers will lead us into action in response to the very things for which we ask.
Alternative Applications
1) In our culture of endless choice, one of the greatest challenges facing the church is to help people keep their priorities in order, so that they can make appropriate decisions in the little things (time-conditioned matters) based upon the big things (timeless values, kingdom goals). In this fall season, with school activities restarting and organizations and clubs getting together again after summer vacations, there is tremendous pressure on people for their time, talents and treasures. Younger and older alike feel this -- at school, at work, in volunteer responsibilities and in ever-increasing recreational opportunities. Individuals and families deal daily with the issue of choosing between so many good options through which to express and enhance themselves. In our increasing secular society, what often happens is that the activities of the church get squeezed out (or at best "squeezed in"). This is symptomatic of how we are becoming more devoted to the pursuit of mammon, rather than God.
Seventy-five years ago, Eberhard Arnold, founder of the Bruderhof communities, raised some serious questions in pre-Nazi Germany that bear hearing today, such as "Are not the state and the organized church, which protect privilege and wealth, diametrically opposed to what is to come: God's new order?" In a lecture delivered in 1923, he offers this challenging description: "Where mammon rules, the possessive will is stronger than the will to community; the struggle to survive by mutual killing is stronger than the urge to love ... matter is stronger than spirit, things and circumstances are stronger than God...."
Arnold was neither entranced by socialism nor communism; nor was he captivated by capitalism. He strove to embody an actual fellowship of people organized around the principles of the Sermon on the Mount. His vision was "the new way of communal work and fellowship in things spiritual and material -- the voluntary gathering of those who are free of private property and capital." This is a radical view compared to that held by most everyone who is seated in church pews these days. Yet, it calls into question what we are really about in our daily lives and challenges us to look deeper into our confession of sins and how great the love of God has to be to still call us his children. Then, we may be inspired to act differently, even if spasmodically, in ways that embody stewardship that is based on kingdom goals (Matthew 6:33), rather than personal ones.
2) All three of today's texts carry a common theme of citizenship. Jeremiah laments the civil and spiritual disorder that plagues his beloved homeland. Timothy is encouraged to be supportive of those in high places in the community, as a spiritual discipline. Jesus tells a parable about keeping a spiritual perspective on personal affairs. Without that perspective, priorities get skewed and we may fail to handle civil responsibilities appropriately.
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
Jeremiah 8:18--9:1
The history of Israel in the eighth century B.C. is largely bound up with the power struggles of great empires against one another in the ancient Near East -- that of the Assyrians or Babylonians in Mesopotamia and that of the Egyptians. Israel was the pawn in the middle between them. In 721 B.C., the Assyrians crushed the 10 northern tribes of Israel, deported the populace, and replaced them with foreigners who came later to be known as the Samaritans.
However, by 622 B.C., Assyria's power was broken, allowing King Josiah of Judah to enlarge his territory and to initiate a sweeping religious reform in 621, based on an early version of Deuteronomy. When Josiah tragically died in battle against the Egyptians in 609 B.C., Judah became a vassal of Egypt. But in 601, Nebuchadrezzar of Babylonia marched west, swallowing up the small states along the Mediterranean coast in his path. It was at this point that the prophet Jeremiah uttered his oracles found in chapters 4-6, concerning the coming of a fearsome Foe from the North.
For several years, Judah played vassal to Babylonia, but in 597, she unwisely withheld tribute, thinking to revolt with the military aid of Egypt. Babylonia's reaction was swift. The youthful Judean king Jehoichin was carried into Babylonian exile, along with the rulers and leaders, including Ezekiel, of Judah. The temple was despoiled, and its sacred objects carried off. It was now clear that Jeremiah's proclamation of a Foe from the North referred to the Babylonian armies.
Sometime, perhaps in 598 or 597 B.C., Jeremiah uttered the moving elegy that we find in our text for the morning. From its words, comes the Negro spiritual, "There is a Balm in Gilead," which refers of course to the healing given us in Jesus Christ. But in Jeremiah's time, there was no such balm, and the prophet is sick at heart (vv. 18, 21). He foresees the ruin of his people and land and hears the desperate cries of the populace for aid. "The summer is ended," they cry -- that time of military rescue -- and "we are not saved." Why has God not come to their rescue? Does he not dwell there in their midst in the Holy of Holies in the temple? Why has the Lord not acted in their defense?
As we can read in Jeremiah's temple sermon in chapter 7, the people thought that the presence of God in the temple was a guarantee of his favor and protection, no matter what they did in defiance of his will. But through his prophet, the Lord speaks in our text. The Judeans have provoked God with their idols and worshiped everything but him. They offer sacrifices to "the queen of heaven," a goddess of the Egyptians and Syrians, and pour out drink offerings to other deities (Jeremiah 7:18). They steal, murder, commit adultery, swear falsely, breaking the Decalogue's most basic commandments (7:9). Yet then they expect the Lord to save them.
Jeremiah takes no pleasure in his announcement of judgment on his faithless folk. He weeps over their coming destruction and wishes that there were some remedy from Gilead's medicinal experts to heal the sin of his people. But Judah's sickness is of her heart, not of her body. Her sin is written with a point of diamond upon her heart (Jeremiah 17:1). It cannot be expunged (cf. Jeremiah 13:23). So Jeremiah mourns, as our Lord Jesus later mourned over Jerusalem (Matthew 23:37). The God of the Bible, and his prophets, take no pleasure in the death of the wicked (Ezekiel 18:23, 32). Rather, human sin grieves God to his heart (cf. Genesis 6:6), and his prophet Jeremiah shares that grief.
Why does God not just forgive and forget, then? you ask. Could he not just overlook his covenant people's wrongdoing and come to their rescue? Certainly that would have saved both God and Jeremiah a lot of tears, not to mention destruction and exile.
But God cannot leave us in our sin, because he loves us. His love for Judah, and for his church, desires that we have good and joy and life, and we cannot have those when we worship false gods and goddesses and break all of God's commandments, can we? We have only to read the morning headlines to see what our sinfulness does in the world. It does indeed bring forth stealing and murder, adultery and injustice, worship of false deities that have no power or true existence, as Jeremiah says in chapter 7. And our society and our world plunge headlong into violence and evil and death. No, God cannot leave Judah as she faithlessly is. He must subject her to the cleansing destruction of her evil life and the repentant exile of Babylonia. And he must subject us to the wages of our sin, which is death.
But wait! Wait! God's love will not be overcome by the necessity of judgment. He knows that the only way to heal our sinful hearts is to take our sin upon himself. And so he provides a balm in Gilead to heal the sin-sick soul. He provides it in the form of his only Son, dying on a cross to forgive all our wrong, rising triumph over our deserved death, and pouring Christ's Spirit into our hearts to transform us from the inside out and to make us whole and good again. Is there a balm in Gilead? Yes, indeed. And he can be ours, if we trust him.
Lutheran Option -- Amos 8:4-7
Amos' ministry took place for a few weeks during the reign of Jeroboam II (787/6-74/6) in the northern kingdom of Israel, and most of his prophecies are probably to be dated about 760 B.C. During the early part of Jeroboam's reign, threats from the kingdom of Aram to the north subsided, and Jeroboam was free to expand both his territory (2 Kings 14:25; Amos 6:3) and his economy. Israel lay on the trade route from the north to the south, and there grew up a flourishing commerce. But the result was a growing wealthy class that was indifferent to the plight of the poor. They built luxurious houses, lived a life of indulgence and debauchery, and turned worship into meaningless spectacles. They cheated the poor and helpless at every opportunity, often taking possession of the poor people's lands or selling them into slavery when the poor could not pay their debts. Justice was denied in the lay courts at the city gates, and buying and selling to the poor was corrupted by false weights and measures in the marketplace.
Contrary to usual stereotypes of Amos as poor, he himself was a rich owner of flocks and sycamore groves in southern Judah. But when the Lord said to him, "Go, prophesy to my people of Israel" (7:15), Amos went as the bearer of the words God gave to him, and it is against the indolent wealthy of northern Israel that the words of our text are directed.
The passage follows the accustomed pattern of early prophetic oracles. First, the sins of the rich Israelites are detailed (vv. 4-6), followed by the judgment of the Lord upon those sins (vv. 7-8. The lectionary reading unwisely leaves off the concluding v. 8). The audience is very specific -- those who trample upon the needy and bring the freedom and existence of the poor to an end (v. 4). The Lord's charge is that the wealthy merchants are impatient with the holidays stipulated by monthly and Sabbath worship. No buying or selling and no work were to take place on those holy days, but the merchants can't wait for the days to be over with, so they can make more money. They make money, however, by cheating. They make the ephah, that is, the 40-liter measurement of grain, smaller than it is supposed to be, and the shekel, the 11.5-gram weight that was placed on a balance scale, too large, so that more money must be given to balance the scale. Then when the poor cannot pay even for sandals to wear, the merchants sell them into slavery. Or sometimes, in order to eat, the poor are forced to scrape up the leavings from the threshing floor and to pay for refuse left among the grains of wheat.
But the God who sent Amos to preach is a God of love, and there is no love without justice. So it is that in his commandments, God declares "you shall not harden your heart or shut your hand against your poor brother" (Deuteronomy 15:7); and "you shall not pervert justice ... Justice, and only justice you shall follow" (Deuteronomy 16:19, 20).
The Lord therefore levels his judgment in our text against those oppressing the poor, and he vows that he will never forget any of their deeds (Amos 8:7; cf. v. 2). In punishment of their iniquities, God will bring an end to Israel (Amos 8:10), as if the very land is tossed about in an eschatological catastrophe (cf. v. 9), to heave up and settle again like the waters of the Nile (v. 8). Surely, those are words that should give all of us comfortable, comparatively wealthy folk pause.
But they all hold together on the theme of how one can intercede with God on behalf of those for whom one cares and shares a common destiny. Jeremiah interceded for "my poor people" (Jeremiah 8:19) with questioning tears. Timothy is urged by Paul to lead the Ephesians in advocating with God on behalf of the civil authorities. Even an unrighteous steward acts as arbiter to avoid small claims court. Finally, of course, Jesus is named the "one mediator between God and humankind" (1 Timothy 2:5) who guarantees the salvation that arises out of the very heart of God.
Jeremiah 8:18--9:1
When God speaks, the prophet speaks. "Thus says the Lord" is the herald cry to perk the ears of those who need to hear. In this text, it appears that we have the words of Jeremiah lamenting the fate of the people. Could it be that when the prophet speaks, God speaks?
Jeremiah has been called "the weeping prophet." He had the uncompromising and unwelcome task of announcing the demise of Judah, the destruction of the temple, and the exile of God's favored ones. Not only was his mouth into his work, but also his heart. In today's text, we see how much his heart is in the prophecy he has been given to deliver. Jeremiah himself shares in the pain of what is happening to the people, whose future will not be in the Promised Land, but in a land of exile. In the statements he has heard and now repeats, we can hear his own questioning and his own dismay: Where is our God? Why have we blatantly disregarded the commands of God? When will we be saved from this catastrophe?
These are questions of lamentation that arise out of a wounded heart. "My heart is sick" (8:18). He would later fill another book with such anguish; but for now, he bears his soul publicly, tear-stained and dismayed.
Can it be that when we hear the prophet speak, we hear the voice of God? That is to say, do these words from Jeremiah's angst express the very turmoil that ravages the heart of the living God, who claims these rebellious children as his own? Are we getting a glimpse into the sorrow of God's wrath, which he exercises in justice but also in pain -- God's own pain? What grief God must bear, having to wait with his people for history to clock forward in order to answer the questions raised against heaven: "Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there?" (8:22). The balm will be in Gilead in time, "the fullness of time had come" (Galatians 4:4). The physician will stride upon the landscape of a people in need of healing (see Luke 4:23). But until that time arrives, there will be weeping "day and night for the slain of my poor people!" (9:1). Thus says the prophet; thus says the Lord.
1 Timothy 2:1-7
Paul charged Timothy to remain in Ephesus as guardian of the faith (1 Timothy 1:3), for there were some there extrapolating crazy notions. These they were passing on as faithful commentary about Christ's death and resurrection for the salvation of the world. Timothy was to provide oversight for and nurture of the congregation, holding them to the teachings of Paul. We would expect this concern from Paul, who was so clear on the differences between the law and the gospel, between the "myths and ... speculations" (1:4) of human minds (see also 2 Peter 1:16) and the revelation of God.
It is refreshing also to receive Paul's very practical concerns for the public life of the Christian community. Complementary to Romans 13:1-7, he expresses his sense of Christian responsibility to engage in prayer for all, especially mentioning those in public office. This is not only a matter of Christian compassion, it is also a matter of Christian citizenship, living "a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and dignity" (2:2). Our feet need to be grounded below, though our vision is set above.
There is purpose in good citizenship, even beyond a "quiet and peaceable life." That purpose is the same evangelical one that propels the overt preaching of the gospel, namely, that everyone be saved and come to the knowledge of the truth in Jesus Christ (2:4). From the chancel to the curb, the Christian life is to witness to the one, "who gave himself as a ransom for all" (2:6).
Paul's vision for the gospel is quite extensive and inclusive. It is "for all" (2:6 and also expressed in 2:1, 4). In this text for today, he is applying the contemporary notion of thinking globally and acting locally, as he advises Timothy to lead the local congregation in Ephesus to pursue the common good in public life in the name of Jesus. For Paul personally, his efforts were to be directed specifically with the Gentiles, wherever they may be. That is why he traveled. His locus was the Roman Empire, while Timothy's at this time was Ephesus.
Luke 16:1-13
If we go back to the beginning of chapter 15, we can surmise that the three parables there as well as this parable of the unrighteous steward were spoken to the disciples within earshot of the tax collectors, sinners and Pharisees. One of the remarkable things about Jesus' teaching is that it is not aimed at a narrow audience, nor is it esoteric in nature such that only a privileged few can truly comprehend what he was talking about. Jesus spoke, for the most part, for all to hear in a way that most could understand, if they had ears to hear.
The theme in Jesus' words for today is stewardship. In the Bible, stewardship means using time-conditioned goods according to timeless values. Jesus applauds the widow who gave so generously (all that she had) out of the abundance of her heart (Luke 21:1-4). Paul applies this principle in one of his best stewardship texts, where he writes, "God is able to provide you with every blessing in abundance [timeless values], so that by always having enough of everything [time-conditioned goods], you may share abundantly in every good work" (2 Corinthians 9:8).
What does Jesus mean when he describes the unrighteous steward as wasting the rich man's goods? Was it that the steward was lax in retrieving what had been loaned to others? Was he foolishly investing the resources in unprofitable ends? Was he stealing from the owner for his own personal gain? Whichever way one may wish to spin this, the steward comes up short in fulfilling his responsibilities to the owner.
It is remarkable that the owner gives the steward the authority to settle matters before he is dismissed. The steward sets out to get back what he can for the owner. He acts like a collection agent, retrieving at least something on outstanding bills, rather than letting them go unsettled. There is advantage in this to the owner, as well as the debtor and also the steward. The owner gets more than he would have gotten if matters were left as is; the debtor satisfies the debt with less than formerly required. The steward comes out of this with a compliment (shrewdness, 1:8) from the owner and with friends on the outside (1:9), where he is now cast.
One of the things to notice about the steward is that he deals with each situation differently. The one who owed oil only had to pay back 50 percent of the debt. The one who owed wheat, 80 percent. Do we make of this that the steward had a sense of fairness with the varying circumstances of the debtors? Or, is the steward more concerned to appease the one owing oil, because he will make a better friend after all is said and done? There may be several motivating factors (some even contradictory) in any given act.
What can be made of verse 9? Is Jesus telling us to be wily and get the most use out of "unrighteous mammon" while we can? Or is he speaking tongue-in-cheek about just how far such efforts can really take one? After all, who are these people who can "receive you into the eternal homes"? Are they none other than those who may remember you fondly for a while, and then forget as life takes other directions? Are they those who will pass on your legacy to posterity, until you are but a faded memory at best -- as if that is ultimately important?
Jesus finally gets to his point in all of this parable-speak, when he explains how important it is to be faithful in the little things of life as a reflection that one values the truly important things of life. That is to say, one serves God by handling the matters of the world with judicious care, in a way that gives God glory and advances the kingdom, not one's own position. Like the steward, we will get into serious trouble if we try to switch the priorities around and treat the mammon of this world as if it had lasting value.
Application
One of the traditional disciplines that has carried Christians through ages of crises has been meditation on the cross. Peering into the suffering of Christ has the power to shape the soul. Profound mystics in their retreats as well as simple believers in their homes find humility and courage when faced with the suffering of Jesus on the cross. To perceive in some small way the self-giving, self-sacrificing heart of God for his people puts all other human predicaments into a unique perspective. Not that they are diminished or dismissed; but they are contextualized into a more grand meaning. They are engulfed by the fullness of God revealed through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus.
Related to this is the spirit with which so many come to worship these days. Closest to people's heart are such concerns as "How does this relate to my daily life?" "What will I get out of it?" "Will I like what I experience?" "How comfortable do I feel in this setting?" Harder to find is the heart that humbly draws near to God in holy space to present the offerings of praise and adoration, prayer and alms, silence and obedience.
Even when life is collapsing around one, we should bring the hardest of questions before God. It is not necessary to be strong before God; reality actually keeps us rather weak, fragile, sick and in need of healing from sole to soul. When we can be so honest with ourselves and also transparent before God, we are in a position to receive God's blessing of presence and promise, as expressed in Psalm 23: the deepest, darkest valley need not be cause for fear, for the Lord, like the good shepherd with rod and staff, walks with the vulnerable sheep.
A vital part of the Christian perception of God is that, in Jesus, God assumes the very cries, griefs, questions, dismay and tears of his people, voicing their anguish from the cross, mediating a saving grace through the apparent weakness of crucifixion itself. Jesus stands in the line of fire between a vulnerable humanity and the enemies of sin and death that would force us out of favor and relationship with God.
Intercessory prayer is a practical application of the intercession Jesus accomplishes for us on behalf of God the Father. Paul writes about this in Romans 8:34 and 2 Corinthians 5:16-21. Jesus is the very expression of God to us and for us. Our intercession on behalf of others is not quite the same as Jesus' role of intercession, because "There is one God" (1 Timothy 2:5). In Jesus, God is not called upon to respond with favor for the sake of the people. In Jesus, God himself is exercising intercession for the ones God loves. Because of this, God does not set up Jesus as a "middleman," similar to the one who is to work out the differences between two contrary parties. Jesus is "God our Savior" (1 Timothy 2:3) who comes to guarantee (the Greek word for "mediator" also carries the sense of "guarantor") that the will of God is characterized by a saving grace that extends to all people. The ransom given by Jesus' life is not a price paid to God to deposit a people into his heavenly account, but is the price God himself paid to buy a people for his own heart.
In contrast to this, when we pray for others, we step forward between those who have our concern and the One who is concerned for them. God's love encompasses all, so we are urged to pray for all leaders in public life, presumably beginning with one's own local officials. Paul becomes an example of this, insofar as he was the apostle to the Gentiles. Just as he stepped outside the box of expectations and expanded his world to include the Gentiles, so is the Christian to step outside the box and reach out with the compassion of Christ to all, whoever they are and wherever they may be. Our prayers will reveal where our hearts are at; our prayers will lead us into action in response to the very things for which we ask.
Alternative Applications
1) In our culture of endless choice, one of the greatest challenges facing the church is to help people keep their priorities in order, so that they can make appropriate decisions in the little things (time-conditioned matters) based upon the big things (timeless values, kingdom goals). In this fall season, with school activities restarting and organizations and clubs getting together again after summer vacations, there is tremendous pressure on people for their time, talents and treasures. Younger and older alike feel this -- at school, at work, in volunteer responsibilities and in ever-increasing recreational opportunities. Individuals and families deal daily with the issue of choosing between so many good options through which to express and enhance themselves. In our increasing secular society, what often happens is that the activities of the church get squeezed out (or at best "squeezed in"). This is symptomatic of how we are becoming more devoted to the pursuit of mammon, rather than God.
Seventy-five years ago, Eberhard Arnold, founder of the Bruderhof communities, raised some serious questions in pre-Nazi Germany that bear hearing today, such as "Are not the state and the organized church, which protect privilege and wealth, diametrically opposed to what is to come: God's new order?" In a lecture delivered in 1923, he offers this challenging description: "Where mammon rules, the possessive will is stronger than the will to community; the struggle to survive by mutual killing is stronger than the urge to love ... matter is stronger than spirit, things and circumstances are stronger than God...."
Arnold was neither entranced by socialism nor communism; nor was he captivated by capitalism. He strove to embody an actual fellowship of people organized around the principles of the Sermon on the Mount. His vision was "the new way of communal work and fellowship in things spiritual and material -- the voluntary gathering of those who are free of private property and capital." This is a radical view compared to that held by most everyone who is seated in church pews these days. Yet, it calls into question what we are really about in our daily lives and challenges us to look deeper into our confession of sins and how great the love of God has to be to still call us his children. Then, we may be inspired to act differently, even if spasmodically, in ways that embody stewardship that is based on kingdom goals (Matthew 6:33), rather than personal ones.
2) All three of today's texts carry a common theme of citizenship. Jeremiah laments the civil and spiritual disorder that plagues his beloved homeland. Timothy is encouraged to be supportive of those in high places in the community, as a spiritual discipline. Jesus tells a parable about keeping a spiritual perspective on personal affairs. Without that perspective, priorities get skewed and we may fail to handle civil responsibilities appropriately.
FIRST LESSON FOCUS
By Elizabeth Achtemeier
Jeremiah 8:18--9:1
The history of Israel in the eighth century B.C. is largely bound up with the power struggles of great empires against one another in the ancient Near East -- that of the Assyrians or Babylonians in Mesopotamia and that of the Egyptians. Israel was the pawn in the middle between them. In 721 B.C., the Assyrians crushed the 10 northern tribes of Israel, deported the populace, and replaced them with foreigners who came later to be known as the Samaritans.
However, by 622 B.C., Assyria's power was broken, allowing King Josiah of Judah to enlarge his territory and to initiate a sweeping religious reform in 621, based on an early version of Deuteronomy. When Josiah tragically died in battle against the Egyptians in 609 B.C., Judah became a vassal of Egypt. But in 601, Nebuchadrezzar of Babylonia marched west, swallowing up the small states along the Mediterranean coast in his path. It was at this point that the prophet Jeremiah uttered his oracles found in chapters 4-6, concerning the coming of a fearsome Foe from the North.
For several years, Judah played vassal to Babylonia, but in 597, she unwisely withheld tribute, thinking to revolt with the military aid of Egypt. Babylonia's reaction was swift. The youthful Judean king Jehoichin was carried into Babylonian exile, along with the rulers and leaders, including Ezekiel, of Judah. The temple was despoiled, and its sacred objects carried off. It was now clear that Jeremiah's proclamation of a Foe from the North referred to the Babylonian armies.
Sometime, perhaps in 598 or 597 B.C., Jeremiah uttered the moving elegy that we find in our text for the morning. From its words, comes the Negro spiritual, "There is a Balm in Gilead," which refers of course to the healing given us in Jesus Christ. But in Jeremiah's time, there was no such balm, and the prophet is sick at heart (vv. 18, 21). He foresees the ruin of his people and land and hears the desperate cries of the populace for aid. "The summer is ended," they cry -- that time of military rescue -- and "we are not saved." Why has God not come to their rescue? Does he not dwell there in their midst in the Holy of Holies in the temple? Why has the Lord not acted in their defense?
As we can read in Jeremiah's temple sermon in chapter 7, the people thought that the presence of God in the temple was a guarantee of his favor and protection, no matter what they did in defiance of his will. But through his prophet, the Lord speaks in our text. The Judeans have provoked God with their idols and worshiped everything but him. They offer sacrifices to "the queen of heaven," a goddess of the Egyptians and Syrians, and pour out drink offerings to other deities (Jeremiah 7:18). They steal, murder, commit adultery, swear falsely, breaking the Decalogue's most basic commandments (7:9). Yet then they expect the Lord to save them.
Jeremiah takes no pleasure in his announcement of judgment on his faithless folk. He weeps over their coming destruction and wishes that there were some remedy from Gilead's medicinal experts to heal the sin of his people. But Judah's sickness is of her heart, not of her body. Her sin is written with a point of diamond upon her heart (Jeremiah 17:1). It cannot be expunged (cf. Jeremiah 13:23). So Jeremiah mourns, as our Lord Jesus later mourned over Jerusalem (Matthew 23:37). The God of the Bible, and his prophets, take no pleasure in the death of the wicked (Ezekiel 18:23, 32). Rather, human sin grieves God to his heart (cf. Genesis 6:6), and his prophet Jeremiah shares that grief.
Why does God not just forgive and forget, then? you ask. Could he not just overlook his covenant people's wrongdoing and come to their rescue? Certainly that would have saved both God and Jeremiah a lot of tears, not to mention destruction and exile.
But God cannot leave us in our sin, because he loves us. His love for Judah, and for his church, desires that we have good and joy and life, and we cannot have those when we worship false gods and goddesses and break all of God's commandments, can we? We have only to read the morning headlines to see what our sinfulness does in the world. It does indeed bring forth stealing and murder, adultery and injustice, worship of false deities that have no power or true existence, as Jeremiah says in chapter 7. And our society and our world plunge headlong into violence and evil and death. No, God cannot leave Judah as she faithlessly is. He must subject her to the cleansing destruction of her evil life and the repentant exile of Babylonia. And he must subject us to the wages of our sin, which is death.
But wait! Wait! God's love will not be overcome by the necessity of judgment. He knows that the only way to heal our sinful hearts is to take our sin upon himself. And so he provides a balm in Gilead to heal the sin-sick soul. He provides it in the form of his only Son, dying on a cross to forgive all our wrong, rising triumph over our deserved death, and pouring Christ's Spirit into our hearts to transform us from the inside out and to make us whole and good again. Is there a balm in Gilead? Yes, indeed. And he can be ours, if we trust him.
Lutheran Option -- Amos 8:4-7
Amos' ministry took place for a few weeks during the reign of Jeroboam II (787/6-74/6) in the northern kingdom of Israel, and most of his prophecies are probably to be dated about 760 B.C. During the early part of Jeroboam's reign, threats from the kingdom of Aram to the north subsided, and Jeroboam was free to expand both his territory (2 Kings 14:25; Amos 6:3) and his economy. Israel lay on the trade route from the north to the south, and there grew up a flourishing commerce. But the result was a growing wealthy class that was indifferent to the plight of the poor. They built luxurious houses, lived a life of indulgence and debauchery, and turned worship into meaningless spectacles. They cheated the poor and helpless at every opportunity, often taking possession of the poor people's lands or selling them into slavery when the poor could not pay their debts. Justice was denied in the lay courts at the city gates, and buying and selling to the poor was corrupted by false weights and measures in the marketplace.
Contrary to usual stereotypes of Amos as poor, he himself was a rich owner of flocks and sycamore groves in southern Judah. But when the Lord said to him, "Go, prophesy to my people of Israel" (7:15), Amos went as the bearer of the words God gave to him, and it is against the indolent wealthy of northern Israel that the words of our text are directed.
The passage follows the accustomed pattern of early prophetic oracles. First, the sins of the rich Israelites are detailed (vv. 4-6), followed by the judgment of the Lord upon those sins (vv. 7-8. The lectionary reading unwisely leaves off the concluding v. 8). The audience is very specific -- those who trample upon the needy and bring the freedom and existence of the poor to an end (v. 4). The Lord's charge is that the wealthy merchants are impatient with the holidays stipulated by monthly and Sabbath worship. No buying or selling and no work were to take place on those holy days, but the merchants can't wait for the days to be over with, so they can make more money. They make money, however, by cheating. They make the ephah, that is, the 40-liter measurement of grain, smaller than it is supposed to be, and the shekel, the 11.5-gram weight that was placed on a balance scale, too large, so that more money must be given to balance the scale. Then when the poor cannot pay even for sandals to wear, the merchants sell them into slavery. Or sometimes, in order to eat, the poor are forced to scrape up the leavings from the threshing floor and to pay for refuse left among the grains of wheat.
But the God who sent Amos to preach is a God of love, and there is no love without justice. So it is that in his commandments, God declares "you shall not harden your heart or shut your hand against your poor brother" (Deuteronomy 15:7); and "you shall not pervert justice ... Justice, and only justice you shall follow" (Deuteronomy 16:19, 20).
The Lord therefore levels his judgment in our text against those oppressing the poor, and he vows that he will never forget any of their deeds (Amos 8:7; cf. v. 2). In punishment of their iniquities, God will bring an end to Israel (Amos 8:10), as if the very land is tossed about in an eschatological catastrophe (cf. v. 9), to heave up and settle again like the waters of the Nile (v. 8). Surely, those are words that should give all of us comfortable, comparatively wealthy folk pause.
