God's Eminent Domain
Sermon
Sermons on the First Readings
Series II, Cycle C
Object:
What would you do if you opened your mailbox one day to find a letter from the city or county announcing that you have to move? That land your grandparents worked so hard to till, or for which you struggled so long to purchase is deemed the best land available for a new shopping mall. The appraisers will soon be checking out your home to determine its fair market value and you are expected to vacate.
For a group of homeowners in New London, Connecticut, this nightmare became reality when the city attempted to force them to sell their property to make way for a hotel and other private facilities. In June of 2005, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled 5-to-4 that their local government (and yours) has the power to confiscate private property, not only for public projects like roads and parks, but also in the name of economic development. A lot of folks disagree.
This authority, known as "eminent domain" is not new. Included in our Constitution's Fifth Amendment on private property is a "takings clause" which permits such confiscation for the purpose of roads, bridges, and public infrastructure like utility easements. What makes this decision different is that now governments are permitted to claim property for the benefit of private enterprise rather than public use alone. Opponents fear that the private property of poor and middle-class communities has been further jeopardized.
Most of us are not strangers to the impact of eminent domain. In the 1930s many farmers in Ohio's Muskingum River Watershed were forced to sell their homesteads for the cause of flood control. Whole towns were demolished as dams were constructed. Later, the Interstate Highway System would claim even more homes and farms, all in the name of progress. In 1960, the movie, Wild River, starred Montgomery Clift and Lee Remick. It depicted the plight of similar folks in the Tennessee River Valley. The tension focused on a sensitive and compassionate TVA agent (played by Clift), called in to remove an elderly matriarch who stubbornly refused to leave her ancestral home in the flood plain. Here were the graves of her husband and children and the home she had known all her days. Here it was that she intended to die. The movie called into question many assumptions and values of a changing country, and probed the tension between personal rights and public progress. As with most real-life stories about these events, the ending was bittersweet.
We, the people, determined long ago that roads, public recreation, electric power, and public utilities are all good things that come with a human price. Now shopping centers fit into this category as well.
Regardless of how we feel about eminent domain, it is here to stay, but in today's scripture lesson, the prophet Jeremiah reminds his nation about a greater and higher eminent dominion that must be recognized, even by the Supreme Court. To quote the psalmist, "The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof."
To assert God's claim to eminent domain Jeremiah uses a story from his own everyday experience, a kind of living parable. Perhaps we can walk with him a while as he journeys to the potter's workshop. Take a moment to look around to see the various bowls and pitchers in various stages of the process -- some dried and awaiting the fire, perhaps a few finished pieces on display, and maybe even some that are cast aside as cracked or broken. At the center of it all is the potter himself, his attention fixed on the wheel and its clay. Watch with Jeremiah as the potter spins this lump, as it rises and takes its shape through the slight movements of the potter's fingers. A flick of the wrist, a slight movement in the fingers, and the clay becomes a bowl, maybe then a pitcher or vase. Another shift of the hands and it all collapses on itself and is again just a lump of clay with entirely new possibilities -- all of it at the imaginative whim of the craftsman.
Here amidst the daily labor of an ordinary potter, Jeremiah discerns the wisdom of his nation's extraordinary God. "You are like clay in the crafter's hand," God says. It was precious clay -- called into existence from the barren womb of Sarah and Abraham through a simple promise spoken by God. It was imported clay -- scraped together by God's own mighty hand from the weak and helpless tribe of slaves, baptized in the waters of the Jordan, purified by a daily struggle for survival in their desert wanderings, and shaped by judges, prophets, and kings under God's watchful eye and attentive hand.
But this vessel proved to be less than intended. Marred by religious idolatry and political corruption its shape was contorted and now useless for its original purpose -- to offer praise to God, and justice and hope to humanity. It was time to redesign. "Am I not free to do with this vessel as I choose?" God asks.
God's claim of eminent domain runs contrary to our twenty-first-century-American convictions. As others have pointed out, the Frank Sinatra classic "I Did It My Way" is popular sentiment in our culture, albeit poor theology. "It's my life" (or body), we say, "and I can do as I choose." Drugs and alcohol, sexual promiscuity, gluttony -- "Don't tell me what to do. My destiny is in my own hands." Such sentiments are perhaps a comfortable security blanket, but they are no more realistic than, "It's my property and I can do what I please with it." It all sounds good until you test it out in court.
The people of Jeremiah's Judah snuggled protectively in the notion that they controlled their own destiny. When it came to politics, their leaders bargained with pharaohs and kings for the best deal they could get; and then changed sides when it suited their homeland security needs. Political wheels were greased with the sweat and blood of the poor and the powerless. Their covenant to worship Yahweh alone was watered down for the sake of the practical, the efficient, and the politically correct.
They paid a heavy price: Jerusalem sacked, the temple destroyed, their leaders deported. At the hands of their enemies the religious and governmental institutions that defined their world were demolished. Families were uprooted and sent into exile. They discovered the hard way just how fragile their dominion really was.
It is a lesson not lost on us today: like when our medical tests confirm our worst fears, or when our spouse suddenly walks out on the marriage. It is a lesson we learn when our child ends up in prison, or worse yet, the morgue. It is a rude awakening when the hurricane or earthquake or flood claims our earthly possessions, our community, even our lives. Our destiny is not within our grasp -- and we hate that!
Neither is our destiny at the peril of merciless forces or cruel fate or even the Supreme Court. Amidst the agony of their exile, Judah found hope within Jeremiah's words. The same potter who destroys the vessel with a flick of the wrist has the power to rebuild and reshape the demolished lump of clay into a new work of art. Amidst the grief and confusion of life's chaos, they were taunted and tempted to believe that God is either powerless or cold-hearted. Ultimately, they chose another path. They chose to affirm, in the words of the children's prayer, "God is great and God is good."
Like it or not, in the end, true eminent domain is God's alone. When we acknowledge this fact, we are freed from our futile strivings for self-domination and from the anxiety such strivings produce. We cannot determine our own destiny; we can only receive it from the hand of God. When we relinquish all illusions of self-determination, we are freed to hear the good news: God is working on our behalf to give to us what we can never achieve on our own terms. Jesus gave his life to reveal God's love, God's goodness -- and Easter revealed God's power. When called to obedience, even unto death, Jesus did not resist; and his affirmation of God's eminent domain changed the course of human history. And, just as miraculously, he has changed us!
Whether or not our culture chooses to acknowledge it, God is Lord of all creation and ultimately our human destiny is in God's hands alone. It's a good thing. Left to our own schemes we know the mess we can make. We can either deny this reality or we can yield to the Potter's hand. We can continue our futile efforts at self-domination, which can only end in brokenness and ruin, or we can work within God's eminent domain and experience the joy and peace of being who God envisioned us to be.
"Am I not free to do with you as I choose?" God asks each of us today.
Absolutely.
In the words of the hymn,
Have thine own way, Lord! Have thine own way!
Hold o'er my being absolute sway.
Fill with thy Spirit, till all shall see
Christ only, always, living in me.
-- "Have Thine Own Way, Lord," words by Adelaide Pollard, 1902
For a group of homeowners in New London, Connecticut, this nightmare became reality when the city attempted to force them to sell their property to make way for a hotel and other private facilities. In June of 2005, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled 5-to-4 that their local government (and yours) has the power to confiscate private property, not only for public projects like roads and parks, but also in the name of economic development. A lot of folks disagree.
This authority, known as "eminent domain" is not new. Included in our Constitution's Fifth Amendment on private property is a "takings clause" which permits such confiscation for the purpose of roads, bridges, and public infrastructure like utility easements. What makes this decision different is that now governments are permitted to claim property for the benefit of private enterprise rather than public use alone. Opponents fear that the private property of poor and middle-class communities has been further jeopardized.
Most of us are not strangers to the impact of eminent domain. In the 1930s many farmers in Ohio's Muskingum River Watershed were forced to sell their homesteads for the cause of flood control. Whole towns were demolished as dams were constructed. Later, the Interstate Highway System would claim even more homes and farms, all in the name of progress. In 1960, the movie, Wild River, starred Montgomery Clift and Lee Remick. It depicted the plight of similar folks in the Tennessee River Valley. The tension focused on a sensitive and compassionate TVA agent (played by Clift), called in to remove an elderly matriarch who stubbornly refused to leave her ancestral home in the flood plain. Here were the graves of her husband and children and the home she had known all her days. Here it was that she intended to die. The movie called into question many assumptions and values of a changing country, and probed the tension between personal rights and public progress. As with most real-life stories about these events, the ending was bittersweet.
We, the people, determined long ago that roads, public recreation, electric power, and public utilities are all good things that come with a human price. Now shopping centers fit into this category as well.
Regardless of how we feel about eminent domain, it is here to stay, but in today's scripture lesson, the prophet Jeremiah reminds his nation about a greater and higher eminent dominion that must be recognized, even by the Supreme Court. To quote the psalmist, "The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof."
To assert God's claim to eminent domain Jeremiah uses a story from his own everyday experience, a kind of living parable. Perhaps we can walk with him a while as he journeys to the potter's workshop. Take a moment to look around to see the various bowls and pitchers in various stages of the process -- some dried and awaiting the fire, perhaps a few finished pieces on display, and maybe even some that are cast aside as cracked or broken. At the center of it all is the potter himself, his attention fixed on the wheel and its clay. Watch with Jeremiah as the potter spins this lump, as it rises and takes its shape through the slight movements of the potter's fingers. A flick of the wrist, a slight movement in the fingers, and the clay becomes a bowl, maybe then a pitcher or vase. Another shift of the hands and it all collapses on itself and is again just a lump of clay with entirely new possibilities -- all of it at the imaginative whim of the craftsman.
Here amidst the daily labor of an ordinary potter, Jeremiah discerns the wisdom of his nation's extraordinary God. "You are like clay in the crafter's hand," God says. It was precious clay -- called into existence from the barren womb of Sarah and Abraham through a simple promise spoken by God. It was imported clay -- scraped together by God's own mighty hand from the weak and helpless tribe of slaves, baptized in the waters of the Jordan, purified by a daily struggle for survival in their desert wanderings, and shaped by judges, prophets, and kings under God's watchful eye and attentive hand.
But this vessel proved to be less than intended. Marred by religious idolatry and political corruption its shape was contorted and now useless for its original purpose -- to offer praise to God, and justice and hope to humanity. It was time to redesign. "Am I not free to do with this vessel as I choose?" God asks.
God's claim of eminent domain runs contrary to our twenty-first-century-American convictions. As others have pointed out, the Frank Sinatra classic "I Did It My Way" is popular sentiment in our culture, albeit poor theology. "It's my life" (or body), we say, "and I can do as I choose." Drugs and alcohol, sexual promiscuity, gluttony -- "Don't tell me what to do. My destiny is in my own hands." Such sentiments are perhaps a comfortable security blanket, but they are no more realistic than, "It's my property and I can do what I please with it." It all sounds good until you test it out in court.
The people of Jeremiah's Judah snuggled protectively in the notion that they controlled their own destiny. When it came to politics, their leaders bargained with pharaohs and kings for the best deal they could get; and then changed sides when it suited their homeland security needs. Political wheels were greased with the sweat and blood of the poor and the powerless. Their covenant to worship Yahweh alone was watered down for the sake of the practical, the efficient, and the politically correct.
They paid a heavy price: Jerusalem sacked, the temple destroyed, their leaders deported. At the hands of their enemies the religious and governmental institutions that defined their world were demolished. Families were uprooted and sent into exile. They discovered the hard way just how fragile their dominion really was.
It is a lesson not lost on us today: like when our medical tests confirm our worst fears, or when our spouse suddenly walks out on the marriage. It is a lesson we learn when our child ends up in prison, or worse yet, the morgue. It is a rude awakening when the hurricane or earthquake or flood claims our earthly possessions, our community, even our lives. Our destiny is not within our grasp -- and we hate that!
Neither is our destiny at the peril of merciless forces or cruel fate or even the Supreme Court. Amidst the agony of their exile, Judah found hope within Jeremiah's words. The same potter who destroys the vessel with a flick of the wrist has the power to rebuild and reshape the demolished lump of clay into a new work of art. Amidst the grief and confusion of life's chaos, they were taunted and tempted to believe that God is either powerless or cold-hearted. Ultimately, they chose another path. They chose to affirm, in the words of the children's prayer, "God is great and God is good."
Like it or not, in the end, true eminent domain is God's alone. When we acknowledge this fact, we are freed from our futile strivings for self-domination and from the anxiety such strivings produce. We cannot determine our own destiny; we can only receive it from the hand of God. When we relinquish all illusions of self-determination, we are freed to hear the good news: God is working on our behalf to give to us what we can never achieve on our own terms. Jesus gave his life to reveal God's love, God's goodness -- and Easter revealed God's power. When called to obedience, even unto death, Jesus did not resist; and his affirmation of God's eminent domain changed the course of human history. And, just as miraculously, he has changed us!
Whether or not our culture chooses to acknowledge it, God is Lord of all creation and ultimately our human destiny is in God's hands alone. It's a good thing. Left to our own schemes we know the mess we can make. We can either deny this reality or we can yield to the Potter's hand. We can continue our futile efforts at self-domination, which can only end in brokenness and ruin, or we can work within God's eminent domain and experience the joy and peace of being who God envisioned us to be.
"Am I not free to do with you as I choose?" God asks each of us today.
Absolutely.
In the words of the hymn,
Have thine own way, Lord! Have thine own way!
Hold o'er my being absolute sway.
Fill with thy Spirit, till all shall see
Christ only, always, living in me.
-- "Have Thine Own Way, Lord," words by Adelaide Pollard, 1902
