SERMON

by Reverend Judith Alltree, delivered on Sunday January 30, 2011
at the Church of the Holy Spirit

EPIPHANY IV – MICAH 8:8

 

A few weeks ago a young Tunisian fruit seller named Mohammed Bouazizi doused himself with flammable liquid and set himself on fire.  He had been humiliated one time too many by the government officials in his small town, who continued to harass him, often refusing to grant him his work permit.  Many times Mohammad had to bribe officials to get the permit, paying more than the $5.00 he would make for the day.  He was also abused by the local police who, if he had the permit, would shut his stall down for no reason.  A young man whose dream was to put his sisters through school and university was trapped in a place in society from which he saw no escape.  His sheer frustration drove him to abandon his dreams and kill himself. 

Tragically, this type of event, a cri de Coeur of monumental proportions, occurs all too often in our world, and yet, more often goes unnoticed.  This one has not.  As young Mohammed Bouazizi lay dying in hospital in Tunis, a whole movement grew in his name, made up of men and women who are suffering similar fates at the hands of those in authority: the incredibly wealthy minority who live in a country where the vast majority receive an average monthly wage of $200.00.  Within days, the movement grew to such proportions that the government was toppled, the leader and his family forced to leave Tunisia; a new leader was appointed, along with the promise of elections and a real democracy to follow. 

Now the world watches in wonder and amazement as this same movement spreads across other parts of the Arab world: Egypt, Yemen and now even Jordan, where the disparity between the rich and poor is more dramatic than it is in a country such as ours.  In those parts of the world, there is no social welfare system, no security net.  The poor just get poorer while the rich get richer.  It’s a cliché, but it’s the truth.

The interesting thing is that no major political event was the catalyst for these uprisings: no coups d’etat from a power hungry military leader, no invasion from a well-meaning but ignorant superpower, just a 26-year old fruit seller whose death shocked his compatriots into action.  As in Eastern Europe in 1989, this is a grass-roots revolution for justice, equality, and freedom, not just to honour the memory of Mohammed Bouazizi, but for the life and freedom of the vast majority of the population in this part of the world, where democracy is a dream because elections are fraudulent; where political oppression and political power walk hand in hand; where justice is a word, not an activity. 

In that same part of the world 29 centuries ago, life was not much different than it is today.  It was the time right before the Assyrian invasion:  the temple was full of people, the coffers were overflowing with money, so the religious leaders looked the other way, ignoring the fact that the urban elite who worshipped there were separated from God.  Sure they went to worship, but on the other side of the temple wall they still practiced the “exploitative policies that generate wealth at the expense of the vulnerable”. (p. 292, Feasting:PP)  As we would say today, they could talk the talk, but not walk the walk. 

The Prophet Micah, who was a contemporary of Isaiah, was from a small farming district in central Israel.   He was outspoken in his defense of the poor farmers of the region who were often exploited by the rich landowners.  And when these same people had to move into urban areas in order to find new work, because they had lost their land and living, it was Micah who advocated for them, speaking out against the rich in an attempt to get justice for the poor. 

Micah’s greatest concern, however, was about the people’s separation from God, the lack of obedience to God.  The Covenant between Israel and God, as confirmed by Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, no longer had any meaning for the wealthy, who believed they were in control of their destiny in the same way they controlled the country and their wealth: they paid lip service to God and nothing more.  They paid off God in the Temple, or so they thought, in order to continue to lead lives of excess outside of the Temple.   Those same people were also living on the very edge of disaster as soon the Assyrians would invade Israel and drag them off into slavery.

But the God who created them and loved them from the beginning was still trying to get their attention, to get them to change their ways.  When He asked through Micah  “what have I done to you to deserve this kind of treatment?” they miss the point.  They have a “that was then, this is now” attitude about their relationship with God, with each other and with those they should be caring about.  Their response is a petulant “what more does God want from us?” and a very typical, childlike exaggeration “should we sacrifice thousands of rams? Ten thousand rivers of oil?  Our first born child?”  The excess of these offerings is ridiculous: the common practice was to sacrifice one ram; a dozen was deemed excessive but would feed a huge group of people; and as for human sacrifice? That in itself is a grotesque and vile suggestion, especially to the One who would himself make that same sacrifice in the future to a much greater purpose.

God cannot be manipulated by human beings, and the suggestions offered by Israel are rejected.  Instead, what Micah tells them is this: “He has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?”  (Micah 8:8) No sacrifices, animal or human.  Nothing that simple, that can be done in a moment and literally walked away from when complete.  “To enact justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with God, are not single acts that can be checked off the list and left behind. On an individual and social scale, in ways large and small, this is a way of life.” (Amy Oden, workingpreacher.org, Jan. 29/11)

To do justice means not just to offer a handout but to stop the practices that lead to the necessity for needing a handout: we must work actively to create jobs, stop exploiting our land and it’s resources; to offer better and more accessible education to more people; and most importantly, to take care of the most vulnerable in our society. 

To “love kindness” isn’t about being nice to people, but to offer the kind of “loyal love” (hesed in Hebrew, agape in Greek) to others that God has offered to us; an unconditional love that is about genuine caring for others – without concern for consequence or return.  And to walk humbly with God is to take care of our own relationship with God, a walk of faith that will completely reorient our lives.  (To use another word: repentance)

God’s justice does not always resemble our justice; it doesn’t mean always getting what we want; it means getting what is right in God’s eyes.  Humility is not a competition; it’s daily action, on a narrow path, and not everyone is going to love you for it.  It means listening to what God needs us to do and doing it in spite of what anyone else may tell us to do.  To do kindness is to put others ahead of ourselves, and to do so willingly.  Or, as Jesus says: Love God with all your heart, your mind, your soul and your strength, and love your neighbours as yourselves. 

Has much changed in our world in the past 28 centuries?   In 1986, Canadian singer/songwriter/ peace activist and devout Christian Bruce Cockburn traveled to Nicaragua.  One result of that trip was the song “Waiting for a Miracle”.  The words of the last verse are:

Struggle for a dollar, scuffle for a dime
Step out from the past and try to hold the line
So how come history takes such a long, long time When you're waiting for a miracle

These words were written about Nicaragua in 1986, but they could have been written about Tunis in 2011, or Israel in the 8th C BCE.  So, sadly, no, not much has changed in our world in the past 28 centuries.
I am sad that a 26-year old man felt so hopeless that he would find it necessary to take such devastating action; certainly this is not what God would have wanted for him.  What God would have wanted was for the abuses he was suffering to have ended so that he could carry on with making a living for himself, to support his sisters and mother.  But now we are witness to the fact that Mohammed Bouazizi’s untimely death has inspired thousands of people throughout countries in the middle east, surrounding Micah’s ancient Israel, in their own battle for justice. 

We who are blessed to live in this country must never for a moment take our lives here so for granted that we forget to do all that God requires of us: to seek justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with our God.

 

AMEN.

 

Sermon copyright © 2011 by Rev. Judith Alltree.