Everything Except God
Sermon
PROPHETS, PIONEERS AND POSSIBILITIES
Sermons for Pentecost [Last Third]
Robert Coles, a child psychiatrist who taught at Harvard University, decided to travel to the South in the early days of the civil rights struggle to see for himself what effect the tension was having upon little children. He soon developed a special interest in Ruby Bridges, a six-year-old black girl in New Orleans. She walked bravely to class each morning accompanied by federal marshals who protected her from the ever-present abuse of an angry mob.
How was she able to stand such tension? Where did a little girl like Ruby get such courage?
Coles was a trained social scientist. He knew what to look for. He asked her all kinds of questions.
One day, Ruby’s mother felt comfortable enough to ask Coles to come to the house. She talked to him at the kitchen table and inquired about what kind of questions he was asking her daughter. He explained that it was important to learn how she was handling stress. He queried her about her appetite, her sleeping habits and other relevant matters.
Ruby’s mother replied: “You’re a doctor and I shouldn’t be asking you questions… But my husband and I were talking the other night, and we decided that you asked our daughter about everything except God.”
That was the turning point for Coles. When he saw Ruby again he quizzed her from a different angle. Where did she get her courage to face those angry mobs each day? She replied: “I am sure the Lord was watching, not only me but those other people, too.” He went and visited her black Baptist Church and learned what gave her courage. The Christian Gospel, the supportive fellowship of a loving congregation, as well as her own family enabled her to be the remarkable young girl she was.1
Coles had inquired about everything except God — the most important thing in Ruby’s life.
In the fifth chapter of the book of Amos we have an account of the fiery eighth-century prophet addressing his people. The setting is not absolutely certain but in all probability he spoke to them on a feast day at the sacred sanctuary at Bethel. This particular center of worship was the pride of Israel’s cultic system. Bethel had everything.
Tradition — Bethel went back to the patriarch Jacob, the spot where he had his dramatic dream of the ladder connecting heaven and earth, with angels ascending and descending upon the ladder. To Jacob, this place was none other than “The House of God,” and “The Gate of Heaven.” Later Samuel would judge the people in the same place. After King Solomon died and the kingdom was divided, Bethel became one of the chief sanctuaries for the people of Israel.
Sights and sounds — here there was much excitement as animals were killed for sacrifices. Incense was burned. Exhilarating music was played. There was nothing dull about worship at Bethel, in fact there was entertainment for all. The crowds flocked to Bethel.
Prestige — in time Bethel became associated with the king; it was the site of the royal shrine. The best and the most powerful people were apt to be seen at this place.
Yes, Bethel had everything except God.
Amos had been observing the worshipers at Bethel. He noted that they were busy going about their religious duties, but there was the absence of real love and sincere devotion to God in what they were doing. Furthermore, the same people saw no connection between what they were doing at this feast and their dealings in the marketplace throughout the week.
What is riveting about Amos’ critique is that the shepherd prophet from Tekoa in Judah did not attack Baalism or foreign idol worship but rather he exposed the emptiness and the hypocrisy of the worship of Yahweh, the God of Israel. God was enthusiastically praised at Bethel, but was conspicuously absent when it came to personal and social relationships at other times and in other places. In a word, Amos was more concerned with a saving knowledge of God and with ethical righteousness as a sign that their religious experience was genuine.
Could it be possible that our worship, habitual as it may be, includes everything except God? We are undoubtedly shocked at such a notion, but the prophet’s words ought not to be taken lightly. If we are prone like the Bethel worshipers to glory in entertainment, excitement and ecstasy rather than in an encounter with the true and living God what can we do about it?
Amos has two directives for us.
Seek The Lord And Live
In our Scripture passage today Amos’ message contains two basic imperatives. The first one is “Seek the Lord and live (5:6).”
Amos begins with theology. The people have been looking for God in the wrong places. The prophet is emphatic that they should not go to Bethel to find God, but rather they should seek the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the true and living God.
These words send chills up and down the spine of all who worship. Are we simply going through the motions, or are we really seeking communion with the Lord? It is so natural to deceive ourselves.
For a number of years our new congregation worshiped in an unimposing community building. I recall one particular Sunday when a family came to worship for the first time. The young couple had a little boy who stayed in a kindergarten room in an adjoining building during the morning worship service. After depositing the boy in his room the parents promised to show him the church where the big people worshiped.
When his class was over, the little boy burst into the community building, looked around, and exclaimed to his parents: “Where’s the church?” It sure did not look like a church to him. By this time, the worship center had been taken down, the chairs had been put away and what he saw was a group of people standing around eating cookies and drinking coffee or juice. If we had been in the boy’s shoes we probably would have said something similar.
It has been helpful for our young congregations not to worship in a regular church building for several years because we have been able to see rather vividly that the church is not a special ecclesiastical-looking structure but rather a group of committed people serving the living Lord no matter where they happen to worship at a given time. We are grateful for the beautiful, functional church building that we now have, but our worship was just as vibrant in our humble quarters when we first heard the call of God to come together as a covenant community of pioneers.
The prophet’s words sting us. They penetrate. When we hear them we are obliged to ask ourselves: “What are we seeking? What do we hunger and thirst after? What really turns us on? Is it the true and living God? Or do we just like to be cuddled and to be beguiled while we go through our weekly ritual?”
Surely, something deeply fulfilling should happen when we gather about the pulpit, the font and the table!
William Willimon once asked a Roman Catholic liturgical scholar for some advice on how to stimulate Protestant seminarians to have more appreciation for the Lord’s supper. He responded by saying he should begin by teaching cooking classes. Willimon was bewildered. “Because,” he explained, “they will never lead the eucharist with conviction until they first learn the joy of giving good food to hungry people.”2
Something deeply fulfilling does happen in authentic worship. By grace spiritual food is offered. By faith spiritual food is received. Especially in communion we receive the bread of life, and then in Christ’s name we go out to feed others.
It you visit Fort Frederica on Saint Simon’s Island, Georgia, you may see a historical marker. It commemorates the spot where John and Charles Wesley preached to the Indians in 1736. John Wesley’s two-year stay in America was not a happy period in his life, in fact it was for him a time of dashed hopes. If he had died at age 34, he would have been remembered as a good, conscientious man, nonetheless a failure.
After leaving Georgia on Christmas Eve, 1737, John recorded in his journal while at sea: “I came to America to convert the Indians, but, lo who will convert me?”
Shortly after his return to England, on May 24, 1738, to be exact, John Wesley experienced conversion. In his own words: “I felt my heart strangely warmed.” He now knew personally something of the vigor in Amos’ straightforward appeal: “Seek the Lord and live.”
Seek Good And Live
The second basic imperative of Amos’ message was “Seek good, and… live (5:14).” The first imperative concerned theology; the second one involved ethics. We might add that none of the prophets placed more emphasis upon ethical righteousness than did Amos.
In Amos’ day those who worshiped at Bethel held the political, economic and social power in the land; unfortunately, they did not see those persons they oppressed as real people. They knew only that there was money to be earned, rent to be collected, bribes to be made, lavish houses to be built. If anyone stood in their way that was too bad for them.
Do we see the oppressed people of our own day? Or, do we simply ignore them and go about our own religious observances?
Do we see persons who are hurt by racial and religious prejudice?
A recent movie treats this theme with great sensitivity. It is Driving Miss Daisy — the story of a Jewish widow living in Atlanta. It is a moving story with lots of humor and light moments. These two people have a difficult time understanding each other and communicating with each other. Eventually, they learn that they have much in common though from radically different backgrounds. Both of them have been subject to prejudice and discrimination. Gradually, they come to see each other in a different light.
What about women? Have we been aware of the oppression that many women have suffered, and some continue to suffer?
In the latter part of the 19th century Donaldina Cameron founded a mission house in San Francisco to help young Chinese women who were brought to this country to be used in the slave trade that flourished at that time on the West Coast. Those men who profited from the slave trade tried everything possible to intimidate Miss Cameron. They threatened her, bombed her home, obstructed her legal battles in court and told the young women themselves that she was nothing more than a “White Witch.”
Miss Cameron was not deterred. She stood by her young women, went to court with them as their defender and when they were liberated she provided practical education and training. She is credited with rescuing more than 1,500 Chinese young women from the slave trade. Her concern continues today through Cameron House in Chinatown, as a community center serving families of youth of Chinese and Vietnamese descent. Its programs include domestic violence intervention, youth leadership development and housing advocacy.
Are we aware of the ways we do injustice to our youth?
Young people can be forgotten, too. Year after year a levy to raise funds for the public schools in our community failed. It was voted down by many persons who indicated that they were older and did not have children in school at the present. Consequently, they did not see it as their responsibility to support the school levy now that they were retired and on more limited incomes. The community became divided over the issue.
The Session of our congregation, consisting of the pastor and the elders, finally came to grips with the issue. Eventually, we set forth our own statement backing the proposed levy because we felt it was best for our youth and indirectly for the well-being of the whole community. This was not a carefree public statement to make to our congregation or to the community. As a young congregation we still had a fragile existence. We could not afford to alienate too many people. Our numbers were not that great to begin with. But, it soon became a matter of ethical righteousness. Were we going to seek good or not? Conscious that we were not infallible and could make mistakes, notwithstanding, we felt the situation called for us to take our stand with the children and youth of our community who would suffer the most if we did not have proper funding for education.
We too are called to be peacemakers breaking down barriers that separate people in all spheres of society.
No matter how much we are entertained and are inspired at worship, if we do not translate that liturgical experience into concern for the people about us, many of whom do feel oppressed in one fashion or another, we have missed the point of ethical righteousness. The kind of worship that Amos advocates has a direct impact upon establishing “justice in the gate.” The best definition of peace-making that I have run across is these words by Clarence Jordan who starkly delineated peacemaking in these terms: “It’s what God does.”3
On a visit to the dentist a while back I had some time on my hands. I read the Sports illustrated and National Geographic magazines. The only other magazines remaining on the table were women’s magazines. I picked up one of them (I do not recall which one) and read an article by a woman who was drawing a distinction between infatuation and love. Perhaps thinking of her relationship with a friend she wrote something like the following.
Infatuation is when you think that he is as sexy as Robert Redford, as intelligent as Henry Kissinger, as noble as Ralph Nader, as comical as Woody Allen and as authentic as Jimmy Connors.
Love is when you realize that he is as sexy as Woody Allen, as intelligent as Jimmy Connors, as comical as Ralph Nader, as athletic as Henry Kissinger, and nothing like Robert Redford — but you will take him anyway.
At times, it seems that we do not really have much to do about the way we feel in our deepest personal relationships.
Being a part of dynamic worship is like that, too. We are drawn together not by infatuation with externals, but by sincere love. We have been overcome by an irresistible love. We cannot stay away from the service. We are on the edge of our seats. We know that we are in the presence of the One who is greater than the sum total of the people present.
At the close of the service the living Lord who has called us and bound us together then sends out to “establish justice in the gate,” that is in the common round of life not excluding the market place.
How was she able to stand such tension? Where did a little girl like Ruby get such courage?
Coles was a trained social scientist. He knew what to look for. He asked her all kinds of questions.
One day, Ruby’s mother felt comfortable enough to ask Coles to come to the house. She talked to him at the kitchen table and inquired about what kind of questions he was asking her daughter. He explained that it was important to learn how she was handling stress. He queried her about her appetite, her sleeping habits and other relevant matters.
Ruby’s mother replied: “You’re a doctor and I shouldn’t be asking you questions… But my husband and I were talking the other night, and we decided that you asked our daughter about everything except God.”
That was the turning point for Coles. When he saw Ruby again he quizzed her from a different angle. Where did she get her courage to face those angry mobs each day? She replied: “I am sure the Lord was watching, not only me but those other people, too.” He went and visited her black Baptist Church and learned what gave her courage. The Christian Gospel, the supportive fellowship of a loving congregation, as well as her own family enabled her to be the remarkable young girl she was.1
Coles had inquired about everything except God — the most important thing in Ruby’s life.
In the fifth chapter of the book of Amos we have an account of the fiery eighth-century prophet addressing his people. The setting is not absolutely certain but in all probability he spoke to them on a feast day at the sacred sanctuary at Bethel. This particular center of worship was the pride of Israel’s cultic system. Bethel had everything.
Tradition — Bethel went back to the patriarch Jacob, the spot where he had his dramatic dream of the ladder connecting heaven and earth, with angels ascending and descending upon the ladder. To Jacob, this place was none other than “The House of God,” and “The Gate of Heaven.” Later Samuel would judge the people in the same place. After King Solomon died and the kingdom was divided, Bethel became one of the chief sanctuaries for the people of Israel.
Sights and sounds — here there was much excitement as animals were killed for sacrifices. Incense was burned. Exhilarating music was played. There was nothing dull about worship at Bethel, in fact there was entertainment for all. The crowds flocked to Bethel.
Prestige — in time Bethel became associated with the king; it was the site of the royal shrine. The best and the most powerful people were apt to be seen at this place.
Yes, Bethel had everything except God.
Amos had been observing the worshipers at Bethel. He noted that they were busy going about their religious duties, but there was the absence of real love and sincere devotion to God in what they were doing. Furthermore, the same people saw no connection between what they were doing at this feast and their dealings in the marketplace throughout the week.
What is riveting about Amos’ critique is that the shepherd prophet from Tekoa in Judah did not attack Baalism or foreign idol worship but rather he exposed the emptiness and the hypocrisy of the worship of Yahweh, the God of Israel. God was enthusiastically praised at Bethel, but was conspicuously absent when it came to personal and social relationships at other times and in other places. In a word, Amos was more concerned with a saving knowledge of God and with ethical righteousness as a sign that their religious experience was genuine.
Could it be possible that our worship, habitual as it may be, includes everything except God? We are undoubtedly shocked at such a notion, but the prophet’s words ought not to be taken lightly. If we are prone like the Bethel worshipers to glory in entertainment, excitement and ecstasy rather than in an encounter with the true and living God what can we do about it?
Amos has two directives for us.
Seek The Lord And Live
In our Scripture passage today Amos’ message contains two basic imperatives. The first one is “Seek the Lord and live (5:6).”
Amos begins with theology. The people have been looking for God in the wrong places. The prophet is emphatic that they should not go to Bethel to find God, but rather they should seek the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the true and living God.
These words send chills up and down the spine of all who worship. Are we simply going through the motions, or are we really seeking communion with the Lord? It is so natural to deceive ourselves.
For a number of years our new congregation worshiped in an unimposing community building. I recall one particular Sunday when a family came to worship for the first time. The young couple had a little boy who stayed in a kindergarten room in an adjoining building during the morning worship service. After depositing the boy in his room the parents promised to show him the church where the big people worshiped.
When his class was over, the little boy burst into the community building, looked around, and exclaimed to his parents: “Where’s the church?” It sure did not look like a church to him. By this time, the worship center had been taken down, the chairs had been put away and what he saw was a group of people standing around eating cookies and drinking coffee or juice. If we had been in the boy’s shoes we probably would have said something similar.
It has been helpful for our young congregations not to worship in a regular church building for several years because we have been able to see rather vividly that the church is not a special ecclesiastical-looking structure but rather a group of committed people serving the living Lord no matter where they happen to worship at a given time. We are grateful for the beautiful, functional church building that we now have, but our worship was just as vibrant in our humble quarters when we first heard the call of God to come together as a covenant community of pioneers.
The prophet’s words sting us. They penetrate. When we hear them we are obliged to ask ourselves: “What are we seeking? What do we hunger and thirst after? What really turns us on? Is it the true and living God? Or do we just like to be cuddled and to be beguiled while we go through our weekly ritual?”
Surely, something deeply fulfilling should happen when we gather about the pulpit, the font and the table!
William Willimon once asked a Roman Catholic liturgical scholar for some advice on how to stimulate Protestant seminarians to have more appreciation for the Lord’s supper. He responded by saying he should begin by teaching cooking classes. Willimon was bewildered. “Because,” he explained, “they will never lead the eucharist with conviction until they first learn the joy of giving good food to hungry people.”2
Something deeply fulfilling does happen in authentic worship. By grace spiritual food is offered. By faith spiritual food is received. Especially in communion we receive the bread of life, and then in Christ’s name we go out to feed others.
It you visit Fort Frederica on Saint Simon’s Island, Georgia, you may see a historical marker. It commemorates the spot where John and Charles Wesley preached to the Indians in 1736. John Wesley’s two-year stay in America was not a happy period in his life, in fact it was for him a time of dashed hopes. If he had died at age 34, he would have been remembered as a good, conscientious man, nonetheless a failure.
After leaving Georgia on Christmas Eve, 1737, John recorded in his journal while at sea: “I came to America to convert the Indians, but, lo who will convert me?”
Shortly after his return to England, on May 24, 1738, to be exact, John Wesley experienced conversion. In his own words: “I felt my heart strangely warmed.” He now knew personally something of the vigor in Amos’ straightforward appeal: “Seek the Lord and live.”
Seek Good And Live
The second basic imperative of Amos’ message was “Seek good, and… live (5:14).” The first imperative concerned theology; the second one involved ethics. We might add that none of the prophets placed more emphasis upon ethical righteousness than did Amos.
In Amos’ day those who worshiped at Bethel held the political, economic and social power in the land; unfortunately, they did not see those persons they oppressed as real people. They knew only that there was money to be earned, rent to be collected, bribes to be made, lavish houses to be built. If anyone stood in their way that was too bad for them.
Do we see the oppressed people of our own day? Or, do we simply ignore them and go about our own religious observances?
Do we see persons who are hurt by racial and religious prejudice?
A recent movie treats this theme with great sensitivity. It is Driving Miss Daisy — the story of a Jewish widow living in Atlanta. It is a moving story with lots of humor and light moments. These two people have a difficult time understanding each other and communicating with each other. Eventually, they learn that they have much in common though from radically different backgrounds. Both of them have been subject to prejudice and discrimination. Gradually, they come to see each other in a different light.
What about women? Have we been aware of the oppression that many women have suffered, and some continue to suffer?
In the latter part of the 19th century Donaldina Cameron founded a mission house in San Francisco to help young Chinese women who were brought to this country to be used in the slave trade that flourished at that time on the West Coast. Those men who profited from the slave trade tried everything possible to intimidate Miss Cameron. They threatened her, bombed her home, obstructed her legal battles in court and told the young women themselves that she was nothing more than a “White Witch.”
Miss Cameron was not deterred. She stood by her young women, went to court with them as their defender and when they were liberated she provided practical education and training. She is credited with rescuing more than 1,500 Chinese young women from the slave trade. Her concern continues today through Cameron House in Chinatown, as a community center serving families of youth of Chinese and Vietnamese descent. Its programs include domestic violence intervention, youth leadership development and housing advocacy.
Are we aware of the ways we do injustice to our youth?
Young people can be forgotten, too. Year after year a levy to raise funds for the public schools in our community failed. It was voted down by many persons who indicated that they were older and did not have children in school at the present. Consequently, they did not see it as their responsibility to support the school levy now that they were retired and on more limited incomes. The community became divided over the issue.
The Session of our congregation, consisting of the pastor and the elders, finally came to grips with the issue. Eventually, we set forth our own statement backing the proposed levy because we felt it was best for our youth and indirectly for the well-being of the whole community. This was not a carefree public statement to make to our congregation or to the community. As a young congregation we still had a fragile existence. We could not afford to alienate too many people. Our numbers were not that great to begin with. But, it soon became a matter of ethical righteousness. Were we going to seek good or not? Conscious that we were not infallible and could make mistakes, notwithstanding, we felt the situation called for us to take our stand with the children and youth of our community who would suffer the most if we did not have proper funding for education.
We too are called to be peacemakers breaking down barriers that separate people in all spheres of society.
No matter how much we are entertained and are inspired at worship, if we do not translate that liturgical experience into concern for the people about us, many of whom do feel oppressed in one fashion or another, we have missed the point of ethical righteousness. The kind of worship that Amos advocates has a direct impact upon establishing “justice in the gate.” The best definition of peace-making that I have run across is these words by Clarence Jordan who starkly delineated peacemaking in these terms: “It’s what God does.”3
On a visit to the dentist a while back I had some time on my hands. I read the Sports illustrated and National Geographic magazines. The only other magazines remaining on the table were women’s magazines. I picked up one of them (I do not recall which one) and read an article by a woman who was drawing a distinction between infatuation and love. Perhaps thinking of her relationship with a friend she wrote something like the following.
Infatuation is when you think that he is as sexy as Robert Redford, as intelligent as Henry Kissinger, as noble as Ralph Nader, as comical as Woody Allen and as authentic as Jimmy Connors.
Love is when you realize that he is as sexy as Woody Allen, as intelligent as Jimmy Connors, as comical as Ralph Nader, as athletic as Henry Kissinger, and nothing like Robert Redford — but you will take him anyway.
At times, it seems that we do not really have much to do about the way we feel in our deepest personal relationships.
Being a part of dynamic worship is like that, too. We are drawn together not by infatuation with externals, but by sincere love. We have been overcome by an irresistible love. We cannot stay away from the service. We are on the edge of our seats. We know that we are in the presence of the One who is greater than the sum total of the people present.
At the close of the service the living Lord who has called us and bound us together then sends out to “establish justice in the gate,” that is in the common round of life not excluding the market place.
