All Along The Watchtower
Stories
Object:
Contents
What's Up This Week
"All Along the Watchtower" by Keith Hewitt
"The Year Everything Changed" by Argile Smith
"Once God Has Spoken..." by John Sumwalt
"And They Followed Him?" by C. David McKirachan
What's Up This Week
Angels play a major role in the public mind -- opinion surveys have indicated that a very large portion of the public has a deep belief in the reality and power of angels. But what are they, and how do they play their role in everyday life? On that point, there's quite a bit of disagreement. In this edition of StoryShare, Keith Hewitt offers an intriguing portrait of one angel who stands on guard, ready to carry out his assigned role of bringing destruction on the city of Nineveh. Fortunately, the powers that be in Nineveh listened to Jonah when he communicated the word of the Lord, and the angel was able to stand down. But what about us -- will we listen when a modern-day Jonah comes to us? Will we recognize him? Will we be willing to change, or will we treat him as just another irritating crank? Only the Lord knows for sure. Argile Smith takes an interesting look at the changes wrought on a small town by the arrival of a major retail chain store that drives small family-run stores out of business -- and John Sumwalt shares another view on that subject with a provocative fable about a contemporary Jonah who reluctantly does the Lord's bidding... with very surprising results. And finally, David McKirachan offers a wry commentary as he analyzes his initial skepticism about how quickly those first disciples called by Jesus dropped everything and followed him on his improbable path.
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All Along the Watchtower
by Keith Hewitt
Jonah 3:1-5, 10
Say "angel" to most people, and they have all sorts of mental images -- wings, clouds, harps, that Roma Downey chick. If human society is good for anything -- and let's be honest, the jury's still out on that one -- we can safely say that it excels at the art of imprinting people with preconceptions. So let's get a few of them out of the way right now, before we go any further:
One: Angels aren't the spirits of the departed, meaning your dead uncle Charlie is never going to be an angel, no matter what kind of life he led. Neither is that Clarence guy from the Christmas movie, bell or no bell.
Two: Angels are immortal, not eternal, meaning they have a point of origin but no endpoint, and they don't have eternity as a frame of reference -- they don't have the sensory system to grasp the totality of space and time as one instant of here and now, the way God can.
Three: Angels are powerful, but they're not omnipotent. They can't transcend or change the laws of the universe -- that's up to the One who made them -- but what they can do is focus those laws in order to achieve certain desired ends, in ways that humans cannot.
Four: Angels are not all the same. Yes, angels come from the same mold, but they have intelligence and something analogous to human feelings, so they are individuals. And they have specialties. There are watchers; there are messengers; there are guardians; and there's us. The executioners.
Not like the ones that throw the switch, or put the needle in, or set the noose. Executioners as in those who carry out (execute) an action ordained by a higher power. (Honest. See definition 2 in your dictionary.) The Boss passes judgment, or needs something done, or -- well, you name it -- and the call goes out to us... the ones in the trenches.
If we hadn't already existed by the time humanity turned its collective back on God, he would have had to invent us -- but then, he already knew we would be needed, so we were there almost from the get-go. I sometimes wonder if the Boss gets profoundly bored because he knows how everything is going to turn out, or if he hides the future from himself some of the time, just to keep things interesting. I know he behaves that way sometimes in order to let the drama of free choice play out -- even though, in the eternal frame of reference, everything has already been done and decided.
Even though it's already done and decided, that doesn't mean it's been predetermined -- it's just that the eternal frame of reference collapses time so that everything happens at once, so it looks predetermined... but here I am, trying to explain the inexplicable, like trying to explain the color purple (the actual color, 400 nanometers, not the long, depressing movie) to a blind person. No offense.
Take Nineveh -- I remember standing outside the Mashki gate, staring up at it, and wondering how these people could build such a thing with bare hands and a primitive set of tools. The walls were magnificent -- 50 feet high, almost 50 feet thick, built (they thought) to stand up to eternity. Every 60 feet or so was a watchtower, and there were these fortress-like gates every half-mile. Any army coming up against this city would pound itself against these unassailable ramparts as uselessly as waves crashing against a rocky shore. The people behind those walls would surely believe they were safe from anything.
They had never heard of Sodom or Gomorrah, I suppose -- or any number of other towns that had strayed beyond redemption during human history. I stood still just outside the gate and felt the wind whip warm against my skin as it ended its journey across the flat, dry plain -- imagined it a day or two hence, suddenly hot enough to char skin and blacken bone. The scent of camels hovered in the wake of a long caravan of the haughty, spitting beasts as they wound their way from the road to the gate, and blended with it I could almost smell the acrid stench of flesh and flame. Riders spoke loudly to pedestrians, shopkeepers, and local residents streaming into and out of the city, warning them out of the way, clucking orders to the beasts beneath them.
Inside, past the walls, I could hear the riot of sound that rose from the bazaars -- residents and travelers, merchants and suppliers, men and women, all conducting business as though the sun coming up tomorrow was a certainty. In the apartments within and the houses without, men and women talked, argued, yelled at children, lived their lives... waiting, though they did not know it. Faintly, almost borne on the wind from some far-off place, I heard shrieks and screams, cries and curses, the unforgettable sound of humanity becoming inhuman in its last tortured moments of life.
"Oh, God," I sighed, "is this as it must be?"
"Patience," a voice said, softly, almost in my ear.
"They have strayed so far... can one man bring them back?"
"It is their choice. Now and in the future."
"What do you mean?" I frowned. We are told what we need to know. We are not blindly obedient, but rather I think of us as tools with minds. The difference between an executioner and an automaton is that sometimes what we need to know does not satisfy us.
"One day, one man will come to bring everyone back," the voice said patiently. "If humans are capable of redemption, they must show it at times like this."
"So this is an exercise?"
"Nothing so simple. Watch and wait."
I stood quietly for a few moments more, surrounded by smells and sounds from present and future melded together, but nothing else was said. I sighed again, resigned to duty, and set myself to watch and wait.
I was watching, on alert, when Jonah came to Nineveh, attached to a caravan from the east. I watched the man and smiled to myself, in spite of what I knew was coming. I knew what had happened to Jonah, the fish and the storm -- I was not there, but watchers talk almost as much as they watch. He seemed to me to be an unlikely prophet.
When he entered the city, I walked with him, walked about the crowded streets as Jonah walked them. I listened to him, tried not to see the faces, meet the eyes of the people who lived there. I saw him speak to the crowds, then stood at the palace gates as he entered the court of the king to deliver the message he had been given -- the call for the people of Nineveh to renounce their sins and turn away from evil, to turn back to God... or be destroyed.
I watched and waited, as sure of the outcome as though I had suddenly acquired that eternal frame of reference.
Then it happened. The people of Nineveh actually -- for the moment, at least -- realized they had strayed. They turned away from their collective sins and asked for forgiveness... led by the king himself. As they broke out the sackcloth, that voice in my ear said simply, "Stand down. There will be no destruction today."
"Gladly," I said, and I made my way back to the Mashki gate. My steps were light as I threaded my way through the crowd, dodging children, slipping between men and women, shoppers and shopkeepers. As I walked, the smell of death faded away.
You know, I've never liked that part of my job, but I'm good at it. It's been awhile since I stood that kind of deathwatch, waiting to bring ruin to a city. Centuries later that one man the Boss had talked about had come, and times have changed.
But you know, I think they're changing again. Watchers talk, you know.
How righteous is your city these days?
Keith Hewitt is the author of NaTiVity Dramas: Four Nontraditional Christmas Plays for All Ages (CSS). He is a lay speaker, co-youth leader, and former Sunday school teacher at Wilmot United Methodist Church in Wilmot, Wisconsin. He lives in southeastern Wisconsin with his wife and two children, and works in the IT department at a major public safety testing organization.
The Year Everything Changed
by Argile Smith
Jonah 3:1-5, 10; 1 Corinthians 7:29-31
When Mike saw that he needed to fill up his car, he checked his GPS for help with finding a gas station. The part of the country through which he was traveling was new to him, so he didn't know where to stop along the freeway. But he wasn't concerned because he had learned to trust his GPS to find whatever he needed as he traveled. Sure enough, it directed him to an exit just four miles ahead. When he took the exit, he was instructed to drive a few miles into a town where a gas station could be found. He followed the instructions just as the device that spoke with a British accent had given them. Within minutes, he could see the station on the left.
His GPS couldn't give him any help, however, with any other details about the place he had been directed. When he pulled up to the station, he noticed that it looked almost dilapidated. Only a couple of old gas pumps greeted him as he pulled up on asphalt that was pock marked with potholes. As he got out of his car, he surveyed the terrain and discovered that the entire town looked a lot like the gas station. The place appeared to have been a bustling center of commerce at one time, perhaps several years ago, but not anymore.
He walked in the door of the station and toward the cash register. There he met the attendant, a kindly old gentleman whose smile could melt the coldest heart. The attendant's demeanor invited Mike to strike up a conversation and soon the two of them were talking like old friends.
Somewhere in the conversation, Mike brought up the town. He commented on the fact that he could see plenty of buildings nearby but that most of them seemed to be vacant. "With all due respect," he said, "the place looks like a ghost town."
"It doesn't just look like it, it is a ghost town," the attendant replied.
"What happened? Did everyone move away or something?"
"No, everyone's here. In fact, the population of the area has grown. No, what happened is that a new store moved to town a few years ago."
"A new store cleaned out the town?"
"Yep. It's hard to believe, isn't it? But that's what happened."
The store was big, indeed, as Mike found out as he continued to listen to the attendant's description of it. The store building was bigger than the hangar at the Air National Guard base located just outside of town. In fact, the building even looked like a hangar. No one in town had seen so much concrete and steel go into the construction of the spacious building. The parking lot was large enough for everyone in town to park and shop at the same time if they wanted. That convenience alone drove people toward it. Unfortunately, the shops in town had limited parking, and the folks couldn't use it unless they knew how to parallel park their vehicles.
The attendant went on to tell about the migration of the people toward the big new store. He described how the small stores in town were owned and operated primarily by local folks. He mentioned a couple of the mom-and-pop operations that had graced Main Street for decades. Then he went on to say that one at a time, each of the stores eventually had to close. The big store had put all of them out of business. Then, with a little regret in his voice, he added, "It looks like my little station here may be next."
Mike almost hated to bring his conversation to a close, but he knew that he needed to be on his way. He paid for his gas with cash because the attendant didn't take credit cards. After he pumped his own gas, he got back in his car to make his way back to the freeway. At the last second, he decided to see the big store for himself. Again he consulted his GPS and found out how to get to it. Not far out of town, he could see the store rising up on the horizon on the right. Just like the attendant said, the huge parking lot served as a welcome mat for everyone to come inside the gigantic store. Underneath the colossal store sign was the "Open 24 Hours a Day" message. Around the store, Mike could see a strip shopping center that looked almost new. A couple of chain restaurants had been built recently, and they appeared to be open for business.
What Mike witnessed was a paradigm shift in which the arrival of the new store had prompted a change in the culture of the people in the town. For them, the new store brought with it a different way of looking at their lives in terms of commerce.
Likewise, the revival in Nineveh brought a change in the way God looked at the people who lived there (Jonah 3:1-5, 10). The new perspective would be difficult for Jonah to grasp. In 1 Corinthians 7:29-31, Paul showed that a Christian worldview fostered a paradigm shift that gave believers life according to a new perspective shaped by a relationship with Christ.
Argile Smith is the pastor of First Baptist Church in Biloxi, Mississippi. He previously served as the vice president for advancement at William Carey University in Hattiesburg, Mississippi, and as a preaching professor, chairman of the division of pastoral ministries, and director of the communications center at New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary (NOBTS). While at NOTBS, Smith regularly hosted the Gateway to Truth program on the FamilyNet television network. Smith's articles have been widely published in church periodicals, and he is the author or editor of four books.
Once God Has Spoken...
by John Sumwalt
Jonah 3:1-5, 10; Psalm 62:5-12
Put no confidence in extortion, and set no vain hopes on robbery; if riches increase, do not set your heart on them. Once God has spoken; twice have I heard this; that power belongs to God, and steadfast love to you, O Lord. For you repay to all according to their work.
-- Psalm 62:10-12
It was on a Thursday morning that Jonah received the first strange text message: "Go to Mall Marty World, that great retail outlet, and raise a stink about their exploitative wages and unjust benefits. If you tell them, they will do what's right." It didn't say whom the message was from, but Jonah knew who it was. There could be no doubt. But he wasn't going to do it, no way. Jonah didn't want Mall Marty World to do what was right. He wanted all of their stores to burn down.
Jonah hated Mall Marty World. His mom had been employed there after his dad died because there was nowhere else to work in their little town. The hardware store, the pharmacy, the grocery store, the donut shop, the convenience store on the corner, the florist shop, and the bakery had all closed because they couldn't compete with the Mall Marty Super Center. So Jonah's mom stocked shelves at Mall Marty World, 37 hours a week at minimum wage, and barely made enough to keep food on the table. When they had to go to the doctor, well, they didn't go to the doctor because they couldn't afford to be sick.
When Jonah graduated from high school he vowed that someday he would see that Mall Marty World got all they had coming to them.
Go to Mall Marty World, indeed, and for what? They wouldn't listen to him. They were a multinational corporation. They didn't have to listen to anybody.
Jonah hopped on his Harley and roared off in the opposite direction from Mall Marty World. He hadn't gone more than two or three miles when his cell phone rang again. This time the message was delivered in a deep resonant voice that sounded like a combination of Morgan Freeman and James Earl Jones:
"Jonah, go to Mall Marty World and tell them to change their ways." Jonah threw the cell phone toward the ditch and shifted the Harley into a higher gear. The cell phone was swept up by a great gust of wind. It landed on a mattress in the back of a Chevy S-10 pick-up.
Jonah's Harley began to sputter and spit. He pulled off the road to see what was wrong. The Chevy S-10 stopped behind him. The driver got out and handed him his cell phone. "I think you lost this." There was another text message. It read simply, "You know what to do."
Jonah threw up his arms, looked up at the cumulus clouds that were hovering overhead, and said, "Okay, I get it; there is no getting away from you." He turned the Harley around and headed back toward Mall Marty World, muttering all the way: "How am I going to do this?"
And then it hit him -- a purple-tinted plastic bag that flew out the window of the semi in front of him. Jonah was blinded for a moment and nearly lost control of the Harley. When he was finally able to stop, the bag was stuck on the zipper of his leather jacket. When he peeled it off he saw a simple logo, a check mark, and three little words: "Just do it!" Jonah threw up his arms again: "All right, already, I'm doing the best I can!"
When he pulled into the massive 700-acre Mall Marty World parking lot, Jonah still didn't know what he was going to do. He parked the bike, stowed his helmet, and began walking toward the big glass automatic doors of the super center. As he came into the store he was met by a gregarious old farmer in bib overalls, the kind of good-hearted soul who is beloved in the community and hired by Mall Marty Worlds everywhere to put a friendly face on their cold corporate greed.
Jonah returned his smile as he grabbed a shopping cart and pushed it toward the front of the store. Now he knew what he was going to do. He counted 24 checkout counters. He stopped in front of number 12, climbed up into the cart and called out at the top of his voice, "Attention Mall Marty shoppers; I have a message from The-One-Who-Cannot-Be-Ignored."
Strangely, everything stopped; the checkers stopped checking, the shoppers stopped shopping, the friendly old Mall Marty World greeter adjusted his suspenders and forgot to smile for awhile. All eyes were on the peculiar young man standing up in the shopping cart. Jonah took a deep breath, looked up toward the sea of fluorescent lights hanging down from the ceiling, and muttered under his breath, "I hope you know what you're doing because I'm lost down here. What am I supposed to say now?"
It seemed to Jonah that time stopped for a while. No one moved. Not a sound was heard. It was like a scene from a bad disaster movie. Things started moving again when a very well-dressed woman approached him, smiled, and said, "Can I help you, sir? I am the CEO of Mall Marty World. I just happened to stop at this store today on my way to our annual board of directors meeting."
Jonah looked upward with a "you've got to be kidding me" look on his face. "Somebody pinch me and wake me up from this crazy dream," he thought. The well-dressed woman continued, "It would seem that you have something to say. I'd like to hear it before I go to the board meeting. Mall Marty World wants to keep all of its customers happy."
Jonah said, "It's not the customers that I'm most concerned about; it's the way you treat your employees. They have nowhere else to work and you don't pay them a living wage. When their children are sick, they have no health insurance to pay for their medical care. When they are too old to work, there are no pension funds to help them maintain their mortgage and car payments. It's not right. Your managers and executives live very comfortably."
The well-dressed woman looked up at Jonah with a faraway look in her eyes, and then, as if speaking to some unseen presence, she said, "I know you're right. I've known for a long time. We are going to make this right. From this day forward every employee of Mall Marty World will earn a living wage. Everyone who works for Mall Marty World will get 40 hours of work each week and receive full health benefits and a vested pension. And every past employee of Mall Marty World will be fully compensated for all the lost wages and benefits they should have received all these years." Then she turned and walked toward the door with a confident executive stride.
Jonah looked around at the dumbfounded customers and clerks. "Don't you believe it," he cried out. "It's never going to happen. They are totally corrupt and they are going to get what they deserve some day. Just you wait and see." And with that he climbed out of the shopping cart and walked out of the store.
"You know what they are like," Jonah mumbled, his words trailing off into the wind. "I hope you're satisfied, calling me to come here and make a fool of myself, and for what? They are never going to change. Why don't you do the world a favor and wipe every Mall Marty World store off the face of the earth?"
Jonah went home, kissed his wife and children, then crawled into bed and pulled the covers up over his head. The next morning, when he turned on CNN, he was startled to see the well-dressed woman being interviewed by Wolf Blitzer. She told Wolf everything that had happed in the store the day before, and how she had convinced the board of directors of Mall Marty World to do exactly what she had promised they would do.
Jonah was not happy about what he heard. He switched off the TV, put on a robe and his favorite slippers (which his wife had purchased at the Mall Marty World half-price sale for his birthday), walked out onto the patio, slumped down into a lawn chair (another Mall Marty World special), and began to pout: "This was not the way things were supposed to turn out. Mall Marty World is evil. They don't deserve a second chance."
After a few hours of this self-indulgent sulking, Jonah noticed a torn piece of white paper blowing about in the wind over his head. It landed at his feet and brushed up against his slippers. Jonah bent over and picked up the paper. When he turned it over he saw three little words written in a perfect cursive script: "Get over it!"
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The characters, events and institutions described in this story are purely a figment of the author's perverse imagination. Any resemblance to persons or corrupt corporations, living or dead, is a plausible though highly unlikely coincidence.
John Sumwalt is the pastor of Our Lord's United Methodist Church in New Berlin, Wisconsin. John and his wife Jo Perry-Sumwalt are the former co-editors of StoryShare, and John is the author of nine books.
And They Followed Him?
by C. David McKirachan
Mark 1:14-20
When I was younger, I wondered why these people who became the apostles walked away from their jobs and their families so easily, just because Jesus talked to them. Were they weak minded? Would Jesus want people who could be that easily swayed? Did he hypnotize them? Was he into mind control? None of the simple answers explained away the problems I had with "... and they left their nets and followed him."
I'd heard sermons on the power of Jesus, on the presence of God that lit him and how people were attracted to him. But my problems just wouldn't recede with the "Jesus says jump and they said how high" approach to the call of these people who were so pivotal in the dawning of the new age. Jesus constantly demanded that they wrestle with their own issues, come to their own conclusions, make choices from high ground. He was more likely to tell them to "hoof it" than carry them there.
When I was 13, I went to church camp and had a very clear experience of salvation. I came home lit with the fire of God's love and proceeded to preach to my parents. I was devastated when they didn't praise God and fall on their knees. They told me they were happy and that this would be one of many milestones in my journey of faith. My devastation wore off. The experience and its importance still radiated the Holy Spirit's heat for me, but I realized I had a few more things to learn before I assumed it would all be downloaded at one pop. My parents' patience and unwavering willingness to be present in my life taught me more about God's call than any inspirational moment.
I have remembered that and endeavored to be a willing and patient presence in people's lives. The "patient" part gets rough sometimes. I want to do mind control on those idiots who don't agree with me. It drives me nuts when they take a perfectly clear passage from scripture and run out into right or left field with it, proving again that left to their own they'll wander into Hell. But then I remember that it's not my job to create puppets. If God didn't, why should I try?
So I wonder about this call-response thing. I wonder how they wrestled. I wonder what issues tore and scared them. I wonder about their hungers and their needs. I wonder about their wives and their children. I keep coming back to that patient presence that refuses to let up on any of us. Yes, they gave up a lot. They probably fought battles in the middle of the night, battles of doubt and anxiety that we will never know about except by remembering our own battles. But the gravitational love of Christ somehow would not go away. And so they left their nets and their lives behind and journeyed with him.
But sometimes I still wish I could do mind control....
C. David McKirachan is pastor of the Presbyterian Church at Shrewsbury in central New Jersey. He also teaches at Monmouth University. He is the author of I Happened Upon a Miracle and A Year of Wonder (Westminster John Knox).
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How to Share Stories
You have good stories to share, probably more than you know: personal stories as well as stories from others that you have used over the years. If you have a story you like, whether fictional or "really happened," authored by you or a brief excerpt from a favorite book, send it to StoryShare for review. Simply e-mail the story to us at storyshare@sermonsuite.com.
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StoryShare, January 25, 2009, issue.
Copyright 2009 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
What's Up This Week
"All Along the Watchtower" by Keith Hewitt
"The Year Everything Changed" by Argile Smith
"Once God Has Spoken..." by John Sumwalt
"And They Followed Him?" by C. David McKirachan
What's Up This Week
Angels play a major role in the public mind -- opinion surveys have indicated that a very large portion of the public has a deep belief in the reality and power of angels. But what are they, and how do they play their role in everyday life? On that point, there's quite a bit of disagreement. In this edition of StoryShare, Keith Hewitt offers an intriguing portrait of one angel who stands on guard, ready to carry out his assigned role of bringing destruction on the city of Nineveh. Fortunately, the powers that be in Nineveh listened to Jonah when he communicated the word of the Lord, and the angel was able to stand down. But what about us -- will we listen when a modern-day Jonah comes to us? Will we recognize him? Will we be willing to change, or will we treat him as just another irritating crank? Only the Lord knows for sure. Argile Smith takes an interesting look at the changes wrought on a small town by the arrival of a major retail chain store that drives small family-run stores out of business -- and John Sumwalt shares another view on that subject with a provocative fable about a contemporary Jonah who reluctantly does the Lord's bidding... with very surprising results. And finally, David McKirachan offers a wry commentary as he analyzes his initial skepticism about how quickly those first disciples called by Jesus dropped everything and followed him on his improbable path.
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All Along the Watchtower
by Keith Hewitt
Jonah 3:1-5, 10
Say "angel" to most people, and they have all sorts of mental images -- wings, clouds, harps, that Roma Downey chick. If human society is good for anything -- and let's be honest, the jury's still out on that one -- we can safely say that it excels at the art of imprinting people with preconceptions. So let's get a few of them out of the way right now, before we go any further:
One: Angels aren't the spirits of the departed, meaning your dead uncle Charlie is never going to be an angel, no matter what kind of life he led. Neither is that Clarence guy from the Christmas movie, bell or no bell.
Two: Angels are immortal, not eternal, meaning they have a point of origin but no endpoint, and they don't have eternity as a frame of reference -- they don't have the sensory system to grasp the totality of space and time as one instant of here and now, the way God can.
Three: Angels are powerful, but they're not omnipotent. They can't transcend or change the laws of the universe -- that's up to the One who made them -- but what they can do is focus those laws in order to achieve certain desired ends, in ways that humans cannot.
Four: Angels are not all the same. Yes, angels come from the same mold, but they have intelligence and something analogous to human feelings, so they are individuals. And they have specialties. There are watchers; there are messengers; there are guardians; and there's us. The executioners.
Not like the ones that throw the switch, or put the needle in, or set the noose. Executioners as in those who carry out (execute) an action ordained by a higher power. (Honest. See definition 2 in your dictionary.) The Boss passes judgment, or needs something done, or -- well, you name it -- and the call goes out to us... the ones in the trenches.
If we hadn't already existed by the time humanity turned its collective back on God, he would have had to invent us -- but then, he already knew we would be needed, so we were there almost from the get-go. I sometimes wonder if the Boss gets profoundly bored because he knows how everything is going to turn out, or if he hides the future from himself some of the time, just to keep things interesting. I know he behaves that way sometimes in order to let the drama of free choice play out -- even though, in the eternal frame of reference, everything has already been done and decided.
Even though it's already done and decided, that doesn't mean it's been predetermined -- it's just that the eternal frame of reference collapses time so that everything happens at once, so it looks predetermined... but here I am, trying to explain the inexplicable, like trying to explain the color purple (the actual color, 400 nanometers, not the long, depressing movie) to a blind person. No offense.
Take Nineveh -- I remember standing outside the Mashki gate, staring up at it, and wondering how these people could build such a thing with bare hands and a primitive set of tools. The walls were magnificent -- 50 feet high, almost 50 feet thick, built (they thought) to stand up to eternity. Every 60 feet or so was a watchtower, and there were these fortress-like gates every half-mile. Any army coming up against this city would pound itself against these unassailable ramparts as uselessly as waves crashing against a rocky shore. The people behind those walls would surely believe they were safe from anything.
They had never heard of Sodom or Gomorrah, I suppose -- or any number of other towns that had strayed beyond redemption during human history. I stood still just outside the gate and felt the wind whip warm against my skin as it ended its journey across the flat, dry plain -- imagined it a day or two hence, suddenly hot enough to char skin and blacken bone. The scent of camels hovered in the wake of a long caravan of the haughty, spitting beasts as they wound their way from the road to the gate, and blended with it I could almost smell the acrid stench of flesh and flame. Riders spoke loudly to pedestrians, shopkeepers, and local residents streaming into and out of the city, warning them out of the way, clucking orders to the beasts beneath them.
Inside, past the walls, I could hear the riot of sound that rose from the bazaars -- residents and travelers, merchants and suppliers, men and women, all conducting business as though the sun coming up tomorrow was a certainty. In the apartments within and the houses without, men and women talked, argued, yelled at children, lived their lives... waiting, though they did not know it. Faintly, almost borne on the wind from some far-off place, I heard shrieks and screams, cries and curses, the unforgettable sound of humanity becoming inhuman in its last tortured moments of life.
"Oh, God," I sighed, "is this as it must be?"
"Patience," a voice said, softly, almost in my ear.
"They have strayed so far... can one man bring them back?"
"It is their choice. Now and in the future."
"What do you mean?" I frowned. We are told what we need to know. We are not blindly obedient, but rather I think of us as tools with minds. The difference between an executioner and an automaton is that sometimes what we need to know does not satisfy us.
"One day, one man will come to bring everyone back," the voice said patiently. "If humans are capable of redemption, they must show it at times like this."
"So this is an exercise?"
"Nothing so simple. Watch and wait."
I stood quietly for a few moments more, surrounded by smells and sounds from present and future melded together, but nothing else was said. I sighed again, resigned to duty, and set myself to watch and wait.
I was watching, on alert, when Jonah came to Nineveh, attached to a caravan from the east. I watched the man and smiled to myself, in spite of what I knew was coming. I knew what had happened to Jonah, the fish and the storm -- I was not there, but watchers talk almost as much as they watch. He seemed to me to be an unlikely prophet.
When he entered the city, I walked with him, walked about the crowded streets as Jonah walked them. I listened to him, tried not to see the faces, meet the eyes of the people who lived there. I saw him speak to the crowds, then stood at the palace gates as he entered the court of the king to deliver the message he had been given -- the call for the people of Nineveh to renounce their sins and turn away from evil, to turn back to God... or be destroyed.
I watched and waited, as sure of the outcome as though I had suddenly acquired that eternal frame of reference.
Then it happened. The people of Nineveh actually -- for the moment, at least -- realized they had strayed. They turned away from their collective sins and asked for forgiveness... led by the king himself. As they broke out the sackcloth, that voice in my ear said simply, "Stand down. There will be no destruction today."
"Gladly," I said, and I made my way back to the Mashki gate. My steps were light as I threaded my way through the crowd, dodging children, slipping between men and women, shoppers and shopkeepers. As I walked, the smell of death faded away.
You know, I've never liked that part of my job, but I'm good at it. It's been awhile since I stood that kind of deathwatch, waiting to bring ruin to a city. Centuries later that one man the Boss had talked about had come, and times have changed.
But you know, I think they're changing again. Watchers talk, you know.
How righteous is your city these days?
Keith Hewitt is the author of NaTiVity Dramas: Four Nontraditional Christmas Plays for All Ages (CSS). He is a lay speaker, co-youth leader, and former Sunday school teacher at Wilmot United Methodist Church in Wilmot, Wisconsin. He lives in southeastern Wisconsin with his wife and two children, and works in the IT department at a major public safety testing organization.
The Year Everything Changed
by Argile Smith
Jonah 3:1-5, 10; 1 Corinthians 7:29-31
When Mike saw that he needed to fill up his car, he checked his GPS for help with finding a gas station. The part of the country through which he was traveling was new to him, so he didn't know where to stop along the freeway. But he wasn't concerned because he had learned to trust his GPS to find whatever he needed as he traveled. Sure enough, it directed him to an exit just four miles ahead. When he took the exit, he was instructed to drive a few miles into a town where a gas station could be found. He followed the instructions just as the device that spoke with a British accent had given them. Within minutes, he could see the station on the left.
His GPS couldn't give him any help, however, with any other details about the place he had been directed. When he pulled up to the station, he noticed that it looked almost dilapidated. Only a couple of old gas pumps greeted him as he pulled up on asphalt that was pock marked with potholes. As he got out of his car, he surveyed the terrain and discovered that the entire town looked a lot like the gas station. The place appeared to have been a bustling center of commerce at one time, perhaps several years ago, but not anymore.
He walked in the door of the station and toward the cash register. There he met the attendant, a kindly old gentleman whose smile could melt the coldest heart. The attendant's demeanor invited Mike to strike up a conversation and soon the two of them were talking like old friends.
Somewhere in the conversation, Mike brought up the town. He commented on the fact that he could see plenty of buildings nearby but that most of them seemed to be vacant. "With all due respect," he said, "the place looks like a ghost town."
"It doesn't just look like it, it is a ghost town," the attendant replied.
"What happened? Did everyone move away or something?"
"No, everyone's here. In fact, the population of the area has grown. No, what happened is that a new store moved to town a few years ago."
"A new store cleaned out the town?"
"Yep. It's hard to believe, isn't it? But that's what happened."
The store was big, indeed, as Mike found out as he continued to listen to the attendant's description of it. The store building was bigger than the hangar at the Air National Guard base located just outside of town. In fact, the building even looked like a hangar. No one in town had seen so much concrete and steel go into the construction of the spacious building. The parking lot was large enough for everyone in town to park and shop at the same time if they wanted. That convenience alone drove people toward it. Unfortunately, the shops in town had limited parking, and the folks couldn't use it unless they knew how to parallel park their vehicles.
The attendant went on to tell about the migration of the people toward the big new store. He described how the small stores in town were owned and operated primarily by local folks. He mentioned a couple of the mom-and-pop operations that had graced Main Street for decades. Then he went on to say that one at a time, each of the stores eventually had to close. The big store had put all of them out of business. Then, with a little regret in his voice, he added, "It looks like my little station here may be next."
Mike almost hated to bring his conversation to a close, but he knew that he needed to be on his way. He paid for his gas with cash because the attendant didn't take credit cards. After he pumped his own gas, he got back in his car to make his way back to the freeway. At the last second, he decided to see the big store for himself. Again he consulted his GPS and found out how to get to it. Not far out of town, he could see the store rising up on the horizon on the right. Just like the attendant said, the huge parking lot served as a welcome mat for everyone to come inside the gigantic store. Underneath the colossal store sign was the "Open 24 Hours a Day" message. Around the store, Mike could see a strip shopping center that looked almost new. A couple of chain restaurants had been built recently, and they appeared to be open for business.
What Mike witnessed was a paradigm shift in which the arrival of the new store had prompted a change in the culture of the people in the town. For them, the new store brought with it a different way of looking at their lives in terms of commerce.
Likewise, the revival in Nineveh brought a change in the way God looked at the people who lived there (Jonah 3:1-5, 10). The new perspective would be difficult for Jonah to grasp. In 1 Corinthians 7:29-31, Paul showed that a Christian worldview fostered a paradigm shift that gave believers life according to a new perspective shaped by a relationship with Christ.
Argile Smith is the pastor of First Baptist Church in Biloxi, Mississippi. He previously served as the vice president for advancement at William Carey University in Hattiesburg, Mississippi, and as a preaching professor, chairman of the division of pastoral ministries, and director of the communications center at New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary (NOBTS). While at NOTBS, Smith regularly hosted the Gateway to Truth program on the FamilyNet television network. Smith's articles have been widely published in church periodicals, and he is the author or editor of four books.
Once God Has Spoken...
by John Sumwalt
Jonah 3:1-5, 10; Psalm 62:5-12
Put no confidence in extortion, and set no vain hopes on robbery; if riches increase, do not set your heart on them. Once God has spoken; twice have I heard this; that power belongs to God, and steadfast love to you, O Lord. For you repay to all according to their work.
-- Psalm 62:10-12
It was on a Thursday morning that Jonah received the first strange text message: "Go to Mall Marty World, that great retail outlet, and raise a stink about their exploitative wages and unjust benefits. If you tell them, they will do what's right." It didn't say whom the message was from, but Jonah knew who it was. There could be no doubt. But he wasn't going to do it, no way. Jonah didn't want Mall Marty World to do what was right. He wanted all of their stores to burn down.
Jonah hated Mall Marty World. His mom had been employed there after his dad died because there was nowhere else to work in their little town. The hardware store, the pharmacy, the grocery store, the donut shop, the convenience store on the corner, the florist shop, and the bakery had all closed because they couldn't compete with the Mall Marty Super Center. So Jonah's mom stocked shelves at Mall Marty World, 37 hours a week at minimum wage, and barely made enough to keep food on the table. When they had to go to the doctor, well, they didn't go to the doctor because they couldn't afford to be sick.
When Jonah graduated from high school he vowed that someday he would see that Mall Marty World got all they had coming to them.
Go to Mall Marty World, indeed, and for what? They wouldn't listen to him. They were a multinational corporation. They didn't have to listen to anybody.
Jonah hopped on his Harley and roared off in the opposite direction from Mall Marty World. He hadn't gone more than two or three miles when his cell phone rang again. This time the message was delivered in a deep resonant voice that sounded like a combination of Morgan Freeman and James Earl Jones:
"Jonah, go to Mall Marty World and tell them to change their ways." Jonah threw the cell phone toward the ditch and shifted the Harley into a higher gear. The cell phone was swept up by a great gust of wind. It landed on a mattress in the back of a Chevy S-10 pick-up.
Jonah's Harley began to sputter and spit. He pulled off the road to see what was wrong. The Chevy S-10 stopped behind him. The driver got out and handed him his cell phone. "I think you lost this." There was another text message. It read simply, "You know what to do."
Jonah threw up his arms, looked up at the cumulus clouds that were hovering overhead, and said, "Okay, I get it; there is no getting away from you." He turned the Harley around and headed back toward Mall Marty World, muttering all the way: "How am I going to do this?"
And then it hit him -- a purple-tinted plastic bag that flew out the window of the semi in front of him. Jonah was blinded for a moment and nearly lost control of the Harley. When he was finally able to stop, the bag was stuck on the zipper of his leather jacket. When he peeled it off he saw a simple logo, a check mark, and three little words: "Just do it!" Jonah threw up his arms again: "All right, already, I'm doing the best I can!"
When he pulled into the massive 700-acre Mall Marty World parking lot, Jonah still didn't know what he was going to do. He parked the bike, stowed his helmet, and began walking toward the big glass automatic doors of the super center. As he came into the store he was met by a gregarious old farmer in bib overalls, the kind of good-hearted soul who is beloved in the community and hired by Mall Marty Worlds everywhere to put a friendly face on their cold corporate greed.
Jonah returned his smile as he grabbed a shopping cart and pushed it toward the front of the store. Now he knew what he was going to do. He counted 24 checkout counters. He stopped in front of number 12, climbed up into the cart and called out at the top of his voice, "Attention Mall Marty shoppers; I have a message from The-One-Who-Cannot-Be-Ignored."
Strangely, everything stopped; the checkers stopped checking, the shoppers stopped shopping, the friendly old Mall Marty World greeter adjusted his suspenders and forgot to smile for awhile. All eyes were on the peculiar young man standing up in the shopping cart. Jonah took a deep breath, looked up toward the sea of fluorescent lights hanging down from the ceiling, and muttered under his breath, "I hope you know what you're doing because I'm lost down here. What am I supposed to say now?"
It seemed to Jonah that time stopped for a while. No one moved. Not a sound was heard. It was like a scene from a bad disaster movie. Things started moving again when a very well-dressed woman approached him, smiled, and said, "Can I help you, sir? I am the CEO of Mall Marty World. I just happened to stop at this store today on my way to our annual board of directors meeting."
Jonah looked upward with a "you've got to be kidding me" look on his face. "Somebody pinch me and wake me up from this crazy dream," he thought. The well-dressed woman continued, "It would seem that you have something to say. I'd like to hear it before I go to the board meeting. Mall Marty World wants to keep all of its customers happy."
Jonah said, "It's not the customers that I'm most concerned about; it's the way you treat your employees. They have nowhere else to work and you don't pay them a living wage. When their children are sick, they have no health insurance to pay for their medical care. When they are too old to work, there are no pension funds to help them maintain their mortgage and car payments. It's not right. Your managers and executives live very comfortably."
The well-dressed woman looked up at Jonah with a faraway look in her eyes, and then, as if speaking to some unseen presence, she said, "I know you're right. I've known for a long time. We are going to make this right. From this day forward every employee of Mall Marty World will earn a living wage. Everyone who works for Mall Marty World will get 40 hours of work each week and receive full health benefits and a vested pension. And every past employee of Mall Marty World will be fully compensated for all the lost wages and benefits they should have received all these years." Then she turned and walked toward the door with a confident executive stride.
Jonah looked around at the dumbfounded customers and clerks. "Don't you believe it," he cried out. "It's never going to happen. They are totally corrupt and they are going to get what they deserve some day. Just you wait and see." And with that he climbed out of the shopping cart and walked out of the store.
"You know what they are like," Jonah mumbled, his words trailing off into the wind. "I hope you're satisfied, calling me to come here and make a fool of myself, and for what? They are never going to change. Why don't you do the world a favor and wipe every Mall Marty World store off the face of the earth?"
Jonah went home, kissed his wife and children, then crawled into bed and pulled the covers up over his head. The next morning, when he turned on CNN, he was startled to see the well-dressed woman being interviewed by Wolf Blitzer. She told Wolf everything that had happed in the store the day before, and how she had convinced the board of directors of Mall Marty World to do exactly what she had promised they would do.
Jonah was not happy about what he heard. He switched off the TV, put on a robe and his favorite slippers (which his wife had purchased at the Mall Marty World half-price sale for his birthday), walked out onto the patio, slumped down into a lawn chair (another Mall Marty World special), and began to pout: "This was not the way things were supposed to turn out. Mall Marty World is evil. They don't deserve a second chance."
After a few hours of this self-indulgent sulking, Jonah noticed a torn piece of white paper blowing about in the wind over his head. It landed at his feet and brushed up against his slippers. Jonah bent over and picked up the paper. When he turned it over he saw three little words written in a perfect cursive script: "Get over it!"
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The characters, events and institutions described in this story are purely a figment of the author's perverse imagination. Any resemblance to persons or corrupt corporations, living or dead, is a plausible though highly unlikely coincidence.
John Sumwalt is the pastor of Our Lord's United Methodist Church in New Berlin, Wisconsin. John and his wife Jo Perry-Sumwalt are the former co-editors of StoryShare, and John is the author of nine books.
And They Followed Him?
by C. David McKirachan
Mark 1:14-20
When I was younger, I wondered why these people who became the apostles walked away from their jobs and their families so easily, just because Jesus talked to them. Were they weak minded? Would Jesus want people who could be that easily swayed? Did he hypnotize them? Was he into mind control? None of the simple answers explained away the problems I had with "... and they left their nets and followed him."
I'd heard sermons on the power of Jesus, on the presence of God that lit him and how people were attracted to him. But my problems just wouldn't recede with the "Jesus says jump and they said how high" approach to the call of these people who were so pivotal in the dawning of the new age. Jesus constantly demanded that they wrestle with their own issues, come to their own conclusions, make choices from high ground. He was more likely to tell them to "hoof it" than carry them there.
When I was 13, I went to church camp and had a very clear experience of salvation. I came home lit with the fire of God's love and proceeded to preach to my parents. I was devastated when they didn't praise God and fall on their knees. They told me they were happy and that this would be one of many milestones in my journey of faith. My devastation wore off. The experience and its importance still radiated the Holy Spirit's heat for me, but I realized I had a few more things to learn before I assumed it would all be downloaded at one pop. My parents' patience and unwavering willingness to be present in my life taught me more about God's call than any inspirational moment.
I have remembered that and endeavored to be a willing and patient presence in people's lives. The "patient" part gets rough sometimes. I want to do mind control on those idiots who don't agree with me. It drives me nuts when they take a perfectly clear passage from scripture and run out into right or left field with it, proving again that left to their own they'll wander into Hell. But then I remember that it's not my job to create puppets. If God didn't, why should I try?
So I wonder about this call-response thing. I wonder how they wrestled. I wonder what issues tore and scared them. I wonder about their hungers and their needs. I wonder about their wives and their children. I keep coming back to that patient presence that refuses to let up on any of us. Yes, they gave up a lot. They probably fought battles in the middle of the night, battles of doubt and anxiety that we will never know about except by remembering our own battles. But the gravitational love of Christ somehow would not go away. And so they left their nets and their lives behind and journeyed with him.
But sometimes I still wish I could do mind control....
C. David McKirachan is pastor of the Presbyterian Church at Shrewsbury in central New Jersey. He also teaches at Monmouth University. He is the author of I Happened Upon a Miracle and A Year of Wonder (Westminster John Knox).
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StoryShare, January 25, 2009, issue.
Copyright 2009 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 517 South Main Street, Lima, Ohio 45804.
