Word on the street
Commentary
Object:
Over the years, I have been impressed with how the back streets of our land as much as
Main Street or Wall Street have shaped the culture of our land. A recent television special
devoted much of its energy to reflecting on the influence of Saturday Night Live
on our culture. I imagine that given most clergy schedules they have either skipped this
resource for the sake of Sunday morning freshness or tried to grasp at its ethos
through reruns and DVDs. However, who can disagree that this show has had influence
from boardrooms to backrooms of power?
While in college, I had the opportunity to work at Rockefeller Center within a stone's throw of the NBC Studios. Working there, I had the sense that I was at the navel, the crossroads, and the apex of culture and economic power -- like the song says, "If you can make it there you can make it anywhere." However the television documentary made clear that the daily fear on SNL was not that they would not impact culture but that they would get out of tune with the culture. People, whom to all outward appearances seemed street wise and savvy, feared not being savvy enough to know what was happening on Main Street and the back streets of America.
Each of these texts shows us a savvy awareness of what is happening on the streets where most people live, work, and walk. Jesus' story shows us a keen awareness of the shrewdness it takes to survive on many of the streets of America. You can find yourself caught up in a situation that requires aplomb that was not covered in first year economics but requires street smarts to get through. The first letter of Timothy presents us with an ethic that many might find disquieting -- prayers for the king? If you live on Main Street, life can get complicated when you have to deal with the king's representatives or have family in the service of the crown, or know folks who daily operate in the ambiguous world of royal prerogative. What would that do to your prayer life?
Jeremiah, if nothing else, was a prophet from Main Street. His very name has crept into the English language as the definition of a Main Street realism -- "a prolonged lamentation or complaint; also: a cautionary or angry harangue." That is what I hear on Main Street a lot: the unfiltered, unvarnished language of sorrow or complaint that speaks of human failure and angst without assurance that somehow we will get on top of things. In all honesty, I don't begin the sermon process with the academic language learned on education row or the spiritually sensitive wisdom found on Church Street. Staring at a blank computer screen, I begin with the lament over how I will ever get from here to there. I don't live on the corner of Main and Academia, I live on Main Street. It is from that address that Jeremiah sends us his missive.
There is a realism and tension in these texts. If the preacher expects to readily resolve the tension we will be in for a sad surprise and the congregation will in all probability be in for a dull sermon. Main Street will be frustrated, Wall Street, Madison Avenue, and Pennsylvania Avenue will be pleased that things are easily resolvable for those living on Main Street and the back streets. However the preacher who finds the call of God is to live faithfully with these tensions may have something to say to Main Street that might challenge those whose place of work and play is a bit but more upscale.
Jeremiah 8:18--9:1
I think I know, as do many in my congregation, what Jeremiah is talking about when he laments, "My joy is gone, grief is upon me, my heart is sick." Red state or blue state or any shade in between, we seem to be in a state as we lament over either why things cannot be the way they once were or of the way we wish they could be. Judging by the conversations I hear on Main Street, it feels like joy is gone as folks confront the struggle to keep up with the material standards that we have set for ourselves. On Main Street, it is a struggle that continues to get harder. The Iraq war brings us to grief. Our hearts are sick as the energy and environmental crises give us a roller coaster ride through uncertainty that we have never known before. That is how it feels on Main Street and on many of the back streets.
The cry from many is as Jeremiah has it, "Hark, the cry of my poor people from far and wide in the land: 'Is the Lord not in Zion? Is her King not in her?' " Aren't we covered, "Is not the Lord in Zion"? If we are well-intentioned enough, won't God take care of us? If we are nice enough, won't God provide for us? If we are determined enough, won't God go before us? As someone said: "God takes care of drunkards, little children, and the US of A." After all, we are a people of exceptional manifest destiny. Our God will not desert us in the end: The Union will be saved, Custer will be avenged, and we will remember the Battleship Maine.
Jeremiah responds to his contemporaries and to us. "Why have they provoked me to anger with their images, with their foreign idols?" Whatever reassurances are offered, look around. "The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved." The summer is ended and we have not been saved from the horrors of war and the shattering of innocence has not been healed. We have reaped what we have sown, there is no balm in Gilead from a health care system that leaves millions on Main Street and the back streets uninsured. There is no physician there that can make up for all the down sides of a fast-food culture. How can the health of the people be restored if they must wait for hours at the emergency room for primary care?
Jeremiah's starting point is the ache in his heart, the pain in his gut that will not let loose of him. "For the hurt of my poor people I am hurt, I mourn, and dismay has taken hold of me." This cannot be healthy, but is it healthy not to feel the pain on Main Street and the back streets? Is it healthy to discount your gut feelings? What pushes us into action is warmed hearts and gut feelings. Try telling your spouse that, on the whole, you thought it was the rational thing to marry him or her.
The word on the street is that despite the claims of Madison Avenue or Pennsylvania Avenue or the Champs-Elysees or Downing Street or Wall Street there is serious pain on Main Street and the back streets. Zion will not protect us from the consequences of the choices that we have made. There will be no balm in Gilead unless we come to terms with the outcome of our actions. Release of tears for our plight might help release us from our denial.
1 Timothy 2:1-7
This seems like good, sound tactical advice that anyone living on the street would recognize as the wise move. Timothy, like Romans, offers sound advice for those who live under oppression. Pray for kings and emperors and all manner of people in positions of authority and power. Above all, make a good show of it. When you happen to be without power, make clear to the powers that be that you are no threat to them. This piece of sound advice comes to mind whenever I am pulled over by the highway patrol. However infrequent those occasions are, I know enough to follow instructions, be pleasant and helpful, and give evidence that this is an aberrant anomaly.
Is this what the letter writer intends in verse 3? "This is right and is acceptable in the sight of God our Savior, who desires everyone to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth." One can hardly find any dignity in this. This is something more there than mere tactical survival.
Pray for people in high positions if it is going to be anything more than a survival tactic. Yet, maybe survival is at stake in such prayers -- the survival of a vital spiritual life. In a democracy, we have some responsibility to offer those who we place in these positions, something more than our cutting, cynical criticism. On the street, it can be all too easy to become cynical. On the street, it is easy to get caught up in seeking rights without responsibilities when those in high positions become objects of our frustrations rather than our prayers. It can be difficult not to allow our cynicism to enter into our prayer life: "Oh, Lord, redeem our leaders from their pig-ignorance that they may no longer persist in their stupid ways." Jesus says his burden is light, his yoke is easy. Taking up this burden of praying that our leaders might live a quiet and peaceable life might lift us and those in high places.
Of course, those in high places are not only in places but also they patrol our streets. The prayer that Timothy calls us to forces us to put ourselves in the shoes of those who walk our streets to keep them and us safe. It puts us in the place of praying for their families who bear the burdens of their occupations. Certainly, putting ourselves in other's places rather than putting them in what we think is their place is at the heart of the gospel. This is right and is acceptable in the sight of God our Savior, who desires everyone to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.
Certainly, the letter of Timothy takes a different tact than the gospel of Luke, "He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly." This can be quite a jolt if you have occupied one of those thrones. While their pay did not reflect it, I remember the high regard in which teachers were held when I was growing up. It can be a hard thing to be caught between parents and administrators and politicians who think that your classroom can be the sight of the resolution of their problems. Loss of status may not be something that clergy are unfamiliar with as they go about their work. Word on the street is that shifting standards and expectations have often made it difficult for those in high positions. "First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for everyone, for kings and all who are in high positions, so that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and dignity."
Having just screened the movie, The Last King of Scotland, the story of Idi Amin, the Ugandan dictator, who was responsible for the death of 300,000 of his own citizens, I recognize that the notion of praying for those who hold high positions does not come easily in all cases. The most depressing aspect of the story was that no one in the movie seemed to be able to appeal to any transcendent power to break the cycle of violence. Crane Briton, in The Anatomy of Revolution, points out that often those who bring down such dictatorships become part of the pattern they are trying to break. Praying for those in places of power, those who are about to fall from power, and those who are about to enter power might save those who offer the prayers from becoming more a part of the problem than part of the answer. Word on the street is that "This is right and is acceptable in the sight of God our Savior, who desires everyone to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth."
Luke 16:1-13
In this story, Jesus seems to give us a very street-wise, "children of this world" resolution of a dilemma that many feel can befall any of us at any time. "There was a rich man who had a manager, and charges were brought to him that this man was squandering his property." Mismanagement, incompetence, in over his head: any of this could happen to us despite our best efforts. The fact that the word "scorpion" is in the middle of the Greek word suggests that we might have something here of Enron proportions -- some overreaching that perhaps began small but has now gotten out of hand. Who knows? Perhaps we have here a bit of office politics that could leave anyone out to dry.
Faced with the moment of crises, the manager demonstrates street savvy that he did not get at the equivalent of MIT or Harvard Business School. He has a keen sense of his own limitations out on the street. He does not have the stomach to beg or the physical constitution to dig. When you are about to be cast out of the system, one or the other is in your future. It is to be noted this is the choice for most of the world's people. After prudent analysis, the manager hits upon his scheme to survive by buying friends at the expense of the rich man.
We are outraged -- this man has some nerve. Yet, he is commended by his master. Go figure! What is the world coming to? This is quite a jolt to our sensibilities. Whenever that happens upon hearing one of Jesus' stories it is a surefire sign that Jesus has us where he wants us. We are forced to consider that however beyond the pale it may seem to us, the actions of this man have some redeeming features.
He knows that he is in the midst of a crisis that could happen to any one of us. It is not absolutely clear that this man is guilty of anything. We do know that the rumor mill is in high gear. Who knows where this may be coming from? In the nature of things somebody may be bucking for his job. Who knows what enemies the steward might have created on the way up that caused him to be on the way out. The master does not shield him from being the victim of such malicious mayhem. The man is to be commended for he understands a rip-roaring crisis when he sees one.
The church has often responded differently in the face of such a crisis. Church people often operate on naive trust that gets them in trouble. Well-motivated, they do not see themselves as the object of other's evil intention. One thing is clear -- the manager spends no time in whining and moaning, "Woe is me." He knows that he must live in a world where such things can happen even despite his best intentions.
He knows that he will get clobbered out on the street. He is not strong enough to dig. Many churches I know are not strong enough to dig into their past to see what has led them to be where they are. Like the manager, many faith communities are too ashamed to get past family secrets that hold the congregation in their grip. He is to be commended for his sense of self and the acceptance of who he is.
He comes up with the startling conclusion, "I need help." Well, duh! However, many folks never come to the conclusion that they will have to get some assistance and somebody is going to have to pay for it because in the real world such help does not come free. So far so good: Up to now, by and large, we can go along with the commendation that the manager earns.
However, we know that we are headed for a pile up over the way the steward uses his master's resources to get the help he needs. In a sense, the master seems to accept investing his resources in one who has come down on the side of not whining, who is spiritually realistic about his own limitations, and who aggressively seeks help. Perhaps this is the greatest shock of all -- that life might come down on the side of this someone who is trying to manage life in that fashion.
Application
The lectionary texts for this Sunday invite us to consider just what street we are living on or are inspired to live on. In America, the concept of street is developing in a variety of new directions. A recent radio report described the latest marketing fad -- outdoor malls. Only the malls are not called "malls," but "lifestyle centers." The creation of old- fashioned, street-level stores with a matching outdoor square has become the in thing. I live in a retirement community that has whiffs of the opening-credits scene from the Leave It to Beaver television series of my childhood. The mayor of New York City plans to charge $8 to out-of-towners to drive on the city streets of downtown New York. As a native New Yorker, I wonder how many takers there will be and what kinds of cars I won't be seeing any time soon on those streets. Are these the examples of the coming meaning of street smarts?
The texts define street smarts a little bit differently. Who wins and who loses on your street? What does it take to win? What does it take for you to win? How is the street on which you live being shaped by eternal forces? In the midst of this, how do we meet God along the way and will that encounter shape how we walk down our streets? The texts ask us to refine what street smarts are on the street where you live.
Alternative Application
1 Timothy 2:1-7. "For there is one God; there is also one mediator between God and humankind, Christ Jesus, himself human, who gave himself a ransom for all -- this was attested at the right time." Now there is a part of me that resonates with that piece of scripture. However there is a struggle here for me -- one mediator? Does this text plunge me headlong into exclusiveness? If this is where we are coming from in reading the text, we may have found ourselves in an unproductive cultural captivity. Does not the sign "Jesus Christ, King of The Jews" mock all forms and pretentiousness of human systems? I approach the text in fear and trembling lest I play down the good news that I do experience in Jesus Christ or that I so overplay it that I mock what he is really all about.
These are tough thoughts that bring us to a crossroads of passion about our own experience and openness to the experience of others. However, it is at the point of the "cross" roads where we can find vitality.
Preaching The Psalm
Psalm 79:1-9
Asking for forgiveness is not usually the first order of business for someone, even if they are obviously in the wrong. In order to ask for forgiveness, one has to first admit to having done wrong. And that, for most people, can be a difficult journey. In our faith tradition, it's called confession.
In the Protestant community, confession has lost much of its power. In some churches there is still a prayer of confession in the liturgy, but there is not much of an emphasis on a self-conscious, intentional effort to be open with God about our various missteps and misdeeds. The tendency is for many of us to simply move along through life's routines living in varying stages of denial about the things in our life that we have done, or left undone.
It takes a consequence to make us come clean. Often, the consequence has to do with getting caught in the act. A marital infidelity will often continue until it is discovered. Then, in the wake of disclosure and its ramifications, confession will come. The young child succumbing to the temptation to steal candy from the neighborhood store will often keep at it until he or she is caught. Then comes the confession and the plea for forgiveness.
There are times, of course, when forgiveness is not immediately forthcoming. This psalm emerges from the depths of consequences for grievous misdeeds. In the desolation of destruction and upheaval a whole people cry out to God for forgiveness. "How long, O Lord? Will you be angry forever?" It's like the child caught stealing money from the loose change jar. Reprimanded and punished, the child comes and seeks reconciliation. "Mommy, do you still love me?"
So the question comes: Where, in the lives we lead, do we need to ask for forgiveness? Where is it that our actions, or our inaction is something that has caused hurt or harm? Sometimes, the sin we commit is one of mute participation in a sin that the larger community is committing. How guilty, for example, was the average German for the sins of the Nazi regime? How guilty are we for the sins of our community? Are we responsible? Are we to be held accountable? Will we keep it up until, like the writer of this psalm, we grovel in the consequences of our sin and seek forgiveness from the depths of pain? Or is it possible -- is it conceivable -- that a person or a community can stop and take a good look in the mirror? And having looked, can we own up to the reality of our wrongdoing? If so, it just might avoid a world of hurt and pain.
While in college, I had the opportunity to work at Rockefeller Center within a stone's throw of the NBC Studios. Working there, I had the sense that I was at the navel, the crossroads, and the apex of culture and economic power -- like the song says, "If you can make it there you can make it anywhere." However the television documentary made clear that the daily fear on SNL was not that they would not impact culture but that they would get out of tune with the culture. People, whom to all outward appearances seemed street wise and savvy, feared not being savvy enough to know what was happening on Main Street and the back streets of America.
Each of these texts shows us a savvy awareness of what is happening on the streets where most people live, work, and walk. Jesus' story shows us a keen awareness of the shrewdness it takes to survive on many of the streets of America. You can find yourself caught up in a situation that requires aplomb that was not covered in first year economics but requires street smarts to get through. The first letter of Timothy presents us with an ethic that many might find disquieting -- prayers for the king? If you live on Main Street, life can get complicated when you have to deal with the king's representatives or have family in the service of the crown, or know folks who daily operate in the ambiguous world of royal prerogative. What would that do to your prayer life?
Jeremiah, if nothing else, was a prophet from Main Street. His very name has crept into the English language as the definition of a Main Street realism -- "a prolonged lamentation or complaint; also: a cautionary or angry harangue." That is what I hear on Main Street a lot: the unfiltered, unvarnished language of sorrow or complaint that speaks of human failure and angst without assurance that somehow we will get on top of things. In all honesty, I don't begin the sermon process with the academic language learned on education row or the spiritually sensitive wisdom found on Church Street. Staring at a blank computer screen, I begin with the lament over how I will ever get from here to there. I don't live on the corner of Main and Academia, I live on Main Street. It is from that address that Jeremiah sends us his missive.
There is a realism and tension in these texts. If the preacher expects to readily resolve the tension we will be in for a sad surprise and the congregation will in all probability be in for a dull sermon. Main Street will be frustrated, Wall Street, Madison Avenue, and Pennsylvania Avenue will be pleased that things are easily resolvable for those living on Main Street and the back streets. However the preacher who finds the call of God is to live faithfully with these tensions may have something to say to Main Street that might challenge those whose place of work and play is a bit but more upscale.
Jeremiah 8:18--9:1
I think I know, as do many in my congregation, what Jeremiah is talking about when he laments, "My joy is gone, grief is upon me, my heart is sick." Red state or blue state or any shade in between, we seem to be in a state as we lament over either why things cannot be the way they once were or of the way we wish they could be. Judging by the conversations I hear on Main Street, it feels like joy is gone as folks confront the struggle to keep up with the material standards that we have set for ourselves. On Main Street, it is a struggle that continues to get harder. The Iraq war brings us to grief. Our hearts are sick as the energy and environmental crises give us a roller coaster ride through uncertainty that we have never known before. That is how it feels on Main Street and on many of the back streets.
The cry from many is as Jeremiah has it, "Hark, the cry of my poor people from far and wide in the land: 'Is the Lord not in Zion? Is her King not in her?' " Aren't we covered, "Is not the Lord in Zion"? If we are well-intentioned enough, won't God take care of us? If we are nice enough, won't God provide for us? If we are determined enough, won't God go before us? As someone said: "God takes care of drunkards, little children, and the US of A." After all, we are a people of exceptional manifest destiny. Our God will not desert us in the end: The Union will be saved, Custer will be avenged, and we will remember the Battleship Maine.
Jeremiah responds to his contemporaries and to us. "Why have they provoked me to anger with their images, with their foreign idols?" Whatever reassurances are offered, look around. "The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved." The summer is ended and we have not been saved from the horrors of war and the shattering of innocence has not been healed. We have reaped what we have sown, there is no balm in Gilead from a health care system that leaves millions on Main Street and the back streets uninsured. There is no physician there that can make up for all the down sides of a fast-food culture. How can the health of the people be restored if they must wait for hours at the emergency room for primary care?
Jeremiah's starting point is the ache in his heart, the pain in his gut that will not let loose of him. "For the hurt of my poor people I am hurt, I mourn, and dismay has taken hold of me." This cannot be healthy, but is it healthy not to feel the pain on Main Street and the back streets? Is it healthy to discount your gut feelings? What pushes us into action is warmed hearts and gut feelings. Try telling your spouse that, on the whole, you thought it was the rational thing to marry him or her.
The word on the street is that despite the claims of Madison Avenue or Pennsylvania Avenue or the Champs-Elysees or Downing Street or Wall Street there is serious pain on Main Street and the back streets. Zion will not protect us from the consequences of the choices that we have made. There will be no balm in Gilead unless we come to terms with the outcome of our actions. Release of tears for our plight might help release us from our denial.
1 Timothy 2:1-7
This seems like good, sound tactical advice that anyone living on the street would recognize as the wise move. Timothy, like Romans, offers sound advice for those who live under oppression. Pray for kings and emperors and all manner of people in positions of authority and power. Above all, make a good show of it. When you happen to be without power, make clear to the powers that be that you are no threat to them. This piece of sound advice comes to mind whenever I am pulled over by the highway patrol. However infrequent those occasions are, I know enough to follow instructions, be pleasant and helpful, and give evidence that this is an aberrant anomaly.
Is this what the letter writer intends in verse 3? "This is right and is acceptable in the sight of God our Savior, who desires everyone to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth." One can hardly find any dignity in this. This is something more there than mere tactical survival.
Pray for people in high positions if it is going to be anything more than a survival tactic. Yet, maybe survival is at stake in such prayers -- the survival of a vital spiritual life. In a democracy, we have some responsibility to offer those who we place in these positions, something more than our cutting, cynical criticism. On the street, it can be all too easy to become cynical. On the street, it is easy to get caught up in seeking rights without responsibilities when those in high positions become objects of our frustrations rather than our prayers. It can be difficult not to allow our cynicism to enter into our prayer life: "Oh, Lord, redeem our leaders from their pig-ignorance that they may no longer persist in their stupid ways." Jesus says his burden is light, his yoke is easy. Taking up this burden of praying that our leaders might live a quiet and peaceable life might lift us and those in high places.
Of course, those in high places are not only in places but also they patrol our streets. The prayer that Timothy calls us to forces us to put ourselves in the shoes of those who walk our streets to keep them and us safe. It puts us in the place of praying for their families who bear the burdens of their occupations. Certainly, putting ourselves in other's places rather than putting them in what we think is their place is at the heart of the gospel. This is right and is acceptable in the sight of God our Savior, who desires everyone to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.
Certainly, the letter of Timothy takes a different tact than the gospel of Luke, "He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly." This can be quite a jolt if you have occupied one of those thrones. While their pay did not reflect it, I remember the high regard in which teachers were held when I was growing up. It can be a hard thing to be caught between parents and administrators and politicians who think that your classroom can be the sight of the resolution of their problems. Loss of status may not be something that clergy are unfamiliar with as they go about their work. Word on the street is that shifting standards and expectations have often made it difficult for those in high positions. "First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for everyone, for kings and all who are in high positions, so that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and dignity."
Having just screened the movie, The Last King of Scotland, the story of Idi Amin, the Ugandan dictator, who was responsible for the death of 300,000 of his own citizens, I recognize that the notion of praying for those who hold high positions does not come easily in all cases. The most depressing aspect of the story was that no one in the movie seemed to be able to appeal to any transcendent power to break the cycle of violence. Crane Briton, in The Anatomy of Revolution, points out that often those who bring down such dictatorships become part of the pattern they are trying to break. Praying for those in places of power, those who are about to fall from power, and those who are about to enter power might save those who offer the prayers from becoming more a part of the problem than part of the answer. Word on the street is that "This is right and is acceptable in the sight of God our Savior, who desires everyone to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth."
Luke 16:1-13
In this story, Jesus seems to give us a very street-wise, "children of this world" resolution of a dilemma that many feel can befall any of us at any time. "There was a rich man who had a manager, and charges were brought to him that this man was squandering his property." Mismanagement, incompetence, in over his head: any of this could happen to us despite our best efforts. The fact that the word "scorpion" is in the middle of the Greek word suggests that we might have something here of Enron proportions -- some overreaching that perhaps began small but has now gotten out of hand. Who knows? Perhaps we have here a bit of office politics that could leave anyone out to dry.
Faced with the moment of crises, the manager demonstrates street savvy that he did not get at the equivalent of MIT or Harvard Business School. He has a keen sense of his own limitations out on the street. He does not have the stomach to beg or the physical constitution to dig. When you are about to be cast out of the system, one or the other is in your future. It is to be noted this is the choice for most of the world's people. After prudent analysis, the manager hits upon his scheme to survive by buying friends at the expense of the rich man.
We are outraged -- this man has some nerve. Yet, he is commended by his master. Go figure! What is the world coming to? This is quite a jolt to our sensibilities. Whenever that happens upon hearing one of Jesus' stories it is a surefire sign that Jesus has us where he wants us. We are forced to consider that however beyond the pale it may seem to us, the actions of this man have some redeeming features.
He knows that he is in the midst of a crisis that could happen to any one of us. It is not absolutely clear that this man is guilty of anything. We do know that the rumor mill is in high gear. Who knows where this may be coming from? In the nature of things somebody may be bucking for his job. Who knows what enemies the steward might have created on the way up that caused him to be on the way out. The master does not shield him from being the victim of such malicious mayhem. The man is to be commended for he understands a rip-roaring crisis when he sees one.
The church has often responded differently in the face of such a crisis. Church people often operate on naive trust that gets them in trouble. Well-motivated, they do not see themselves as the object of other's evil intention. One thing is clear -- the manager spends no time in whining and moaning, "Woe is me." He knows that he must live in a world where such things can happen even despite his best intentions.
He knows that he will get clobbered out on the street. He is not strong enough to dig. Many churches I know are not strong enough to dig into their past to see what has led them to be where they are. Like the manager, many faith communities are too ashamed to get past family secrets that hold the congregation in their grip. He is to be commended for his sense of self and the acceptance of who he is.
He comes up with the startling conclusion, "I need help." Well, duh! However, many folks never come to the conclusion that they will have to get some assistance and somebody is going to have to pay for it because in the real world such help does not come free. So far so good: Up to now, by and large, we can go along with the commendation that the manager earns.
However, we know that we are headed for a pile up over the way the steward uses his master's resources to get the help he needs. In a sense, the master seems to accept investing his resources in one who has come down on the side of not whining, who is spiritually realistic about his own limitations, and who aggressively seeks help. Perhaps this is the greatest shock of all -- that life might come down on the side of this someone who is trying to manage life in that fashion.
Application
The lectionary texts for this Sunday invite us to consider just what street we are living on or are inspired to live on. In America, the concept of street is developing in a variety of new directions. A recent radio report described the latest marketing fad -- outdoor malls. Only the malls are not called "malls," but "lifestyle centers." The creation of old- fashioned, street-level stores with a matching outdoor square has become the in thing. I live in a retirement community that has whiffs of the opening-credits scene from the Leave It to Beaver television series of my childhood. The mayor of New York City plans to charge $8 to out-of-towners to drive on the city streets of downtown New York. As a native New Yorker, I wonder how many takers there will be and what kinds of cars I won't be seeing any time soon on those streets. Are these the examples of the coming meaning of street smarts?
The texts define street smarts a little bit differently. Who wins and who loses on your street? What does it take to win? What does it take for you to win? How is the street on which you live being shaped by eternal forces? In the midst of this, how do we meet God along the way and will that encounter shape how we walk down our streets? The texts ask us to refine what street smarts are on the street where you live.
Alternative Application
1 Timothy 2:1-7. "For there is one God; there is also one mediator between God and humankind, Christ Jesus, himself human, who gave himself a ransom for all -- this was attested at the right time." Now there is a part of me that resonates with that piece of scripture. However there is a struggle here for me -- one mediator? Does this text plunge me headlong into exclusiveness? If this is where we are coming from in reading the text, we may have found ourselves in an unproductive cultural captivity. Does not the sign "Jesus Christ, King of The Jews" mock all forms and pretentiousness of human systems? I approach the text in fear and trembling lest I play down the good news that I do experience in Jesus Christ or that I so overplay it that I mock what he is really all about.
These are tough thoughts that bring us to a crossroads of passion about our own experience and openness to the experience of others. However, it is at the point of the "cross" roads where we can find vitality.
Preaching The Psalm
Psalm 79:1-9
Asking for forgiveness is not usually the first order of business for someone, even if they are obviously in the wrong. In order to ask for forgiveness, one has to first admit to having done wrong. And that, for most people, can be a difficult journey. In our faith tradition, it's called confession.
In the Protestant community, confession has lost much of its power. In some churches there is still a prayer of confession in the liturgy, but there is not much of an emphasis on a self-conscious, intentional effort to be open with God about our various missteps and misdeeds. The tendency is for many of us to simply move along through life's routines living in varying stages of denial about the things in our life that we have done, or left undone.
It takes a consequence to make us come clean. Often, the consequence has to do with getting caught in the act. A marital infidelity will often continue until it is discovered. Then, in the wake of disclosure and its ramifications, confession will come. The young child succumbing to the temptation to steal candy from the neighborhood store will often keep at it until he or she is caught. Then comes the confession and the plea for forgiveness.
There are times, of course, when forgiveness is not immediately forthcoming. This psalm emerges from the depths of consequences for grievous misdeeds. In the desolation of destruction and upheaval a whole people cry out to God for forgiveness. "How long, O Lord? Will you be angry forever?" It's like the child caught stealing money from the loose change jar. Reprimanded and punished, the child comes and seeks reconciliation. "Mommy, do you still love me?"
So the question comes: Where, in the lives we lead, do we need to ask for forgiveness? Where is it that our actions, or our inaction is something that has caused hurt or harm? Sometimes, the sin we commit is one of mute participation in a sin that the larger community is committing. How guilty, for example, was the average German for the sins of the Nazi regime? How guilty are we for the sins of our community? Are we responsible? Are we to be held accountable? Will we keep it up until, like the writer of this psalm, we grovel in the consequences of our sin and seek forgiveness from the depths of pain? Or is it possible -- is it conceivable -- that a person or a community can stop and take a good look in the mirror? And having looked, can we own up to the reality of our wrongdoing? If so, it just might avoid a world of hurt and pain.
