Monday, December 17, 2012

Third Sunday of Advent: "...and the Rich Must Lie Down with the Poor"


Zephaniah 3:14-20
Canticle 10
Philippians 4:4-7
Luke 3:7-18

At one time or other, we have all heard someone make a call for a return to the basics.  It is often a cry that laments the present state of things in favor of some past, prettily clothed in nostalgia.  In our day it is all too often the cry of some religious or social conservatives, and which often hearkens back only so far as the time of their childhood.  It is a call usually to a very narrow understanding of personal morality, and while posed as a challenge, whether to individuals or society generally, it is actually a desire for facile comfort – comfort in the midst of change, comfort in the midst of the unknown, comfort in the midst of the stranger. 

Yet the call for a re-engagement with the basics is not a bad thing in and of itself, especially if we are realistic about what those basics are, especially if are prepared to be challenged by their significance and sometimes surprising ramifications.  Take for example, the book of Deuteronomy in which God says, “If there is among you anyone in need, a member of your community in any of your towns within the land that the Lord your God is giving you, do not be hard-hearted or tight-fisted toward your needy neighbor…Since there will never cease to be some in need on the earth, I therefore command you, ‘Open your hand to the poor and needy neighbor in your land.’ ” (Deuteronomy 15:7, 11)  As Christians, one can’t get any more basic than Torah, God’s covenant with the Jews, our ancestors in faith.  The message is similar in the prophets: “Is not this the fast that I choose?  Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin?” (Isaiah 58:6a, 7)  Or, “this was the guilt of your sister Sodom: she and her daughters had pride, excess of food, and prosperous ease, but did not aid the poor and needy.” (Ezekiel 16:49  The ethical demands here are far from privatized, far from nostalgic.  They challenged the Hebrews into new ways of understanding and contextualizing their relationship with God, their responsibilities to others.

John the Baptist is trying to recapture this vision.  In the wilderness he is making a call for a return to the basics – yes, but there is nothing of nostalgia or privatized morality.  The Gospels, justly or not, present a Judaism losing vitality; a Judaism in which people justified themselves not by what they did or how they lived, but by claiming an ontological connection with the past, for example through a genealogical relationship to the patriarchs: “We have Abraham as our ancestor.” (Luke 3:8)  Rather, John reminds them of the covenant.  He calls them back to the basics of God’s will and purposes expressed in the law and the prophets:  “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.” (Luke 3:11)  He calls the people not to some idealized past, but the living truth of God’s law of justice and compassion, and to the making of it a present reality among them.  This too was in large part the message of Jesus and which he called – as I have often said – the kingdom of God.  He called people to the basics, and not only to the basics of the law, but to the very basics of our human existence – the basic reality that we cannot control everything, the basic reality that worrying or fretting changes nothing, the basic reality of our utter dependence on God, the basic reality that little of we think is ours really is ours: “…do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own.  Today’s trouble is enough for today” (Matthew 6:34); “Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you.” (Matthew 5:42)  Jesus’ call to basics, like John’s, was not just a lament for a bygone era, but a challenge to live at a more human level, to live with more compassion and understanding, to live more authentically.

When we really begin to ponder on the basics of life, we recognize how little we can control and how much of what we receive is at the hands of others or of God, or both.  Those of us who are more or less comfortably well-off can hide from that reality more easily.  We can distract ourselves by our possessions or our wherewithal to make plans and follow them through; but have real tragedy or disaster come our way, and we realize how much we are at the whim of things.  They level the playing field, unmasking the lies we tell ourselves about self-sufficiency, about the power we have over the events of our lives.  And while a simplistic call to basics is about controlling things according to our comfort zone, the scriptural call to basics is about giving up that false sense of control or superiority, recognizing how much we are all of us in the same boat in one way or another, recognizing our own poverty in any of its many forms.

There is little doubt that for many of us, the poor and issues of poverty make us feel just a little uncomfortable.  It’s more than just guilt, but rather the hint they may suggest that “there but for the grace of God, go I” or we.  In part, for this reason in so many cultures and among so many people the poor are ignored or demonized (we used to do this with the sick as well, but that’s perhaps another sermon for another time).  The call to the basics of Torah, of the prophets, of John the Baptist and of Jesus confronts us with the reality of the poor and the downtrodden, and the truth that they are not separate from us:  “You shall also love the stranger, for you were strangers in the land of Egypt.” (Deuteronomy 10:19)  A return to the basics in this respect, can carry us into the a future of living more honestly, can point out the many little ways we hide from, ignore or disguise the precariousness of our existence; and can make us more compassionate, more willing to see ourselves in the other.  A return to the basics, in this respect, challenges us to engage with our basic, shared humanity regardless of anything else.  It allows us to the see the poor and disadvantaged not as other, but as us, and demands that we make a difference in their situation; which could be ours but for grace or luck.

The future God plans for us, and envisions for the human family is enshrined in much of  the ethical teaching of Torah and in the pronouncements of the prophets.  Both John the Baptist and Jesus emphasized this aspect of the Jewish tradition, this particular concern for the poor and preoccupation with the most vulnerable in society.  It is basic to anything we may want to say about God, basic to any engagement with the Gospel.  When people cry out for a return to the basics, I wish they would think about this – rather than some cozy view of the 1950s.  I wish they would allow themselves to be challenged by the reality of our basic and shared humanity, seeing themselves in the poor and disregarded, and especially in Advent when we not only prepare ourselves to celebrate Christmas, but when we look to and confront the truth that, as an old song says:
“The time it will come when our Saviour on earth
   “And the world will agree with one voice…
“Saints, Angels and men, Hallelujahs will sing,
   “And the rich must lie down with the poor.”
            

No comments:

Post a Comment