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Reflections

WHO, ME?
By Harry Heintz

Texts:   Amos 1:1, 7:12-15, James 1:1 

 

Picture this.  Everything is going well in the life of Brunswick Church.  The new building expansion is completed and all the neighbors are thrilled with it.  The new worship center is filling up with people three times each weekend.  Money is flowing in.  We’re running ahead of our challenge budget goal every week of the year.  The national government is stable and the economy is well.  There are not even hints of war.  We gather here for worship, well fed and well dressed.  The parking lots are filled with late model cars without any salt, snow, or dirt on them.  The neighborhoods around us are nicely middle class—all clean and safe.  We don’t know of anyone out of work.  There is not a discouraging word to be heard.

 

Then some outsider walks in and claims that God has sent him to us.  We listen carefully and we notice is that he isn’t from around here.  His accent suggests southern roots.  He looks different.  As he speaks a discomfort settles over us.  It’s not that’s he is insincere; he just seems wrongly informed about us.  He is daring to suggest—that’s too mild—he is actually telling us that God is not impressed by us.  In fact, he tells us that God is repulsed by our fine religiosity.  Shall we have the ushers show him to the door?  Are you feeling the discomfort?  Then you can relate to the congregation to which God sent Amos.

 

The nation of Israel had split in two.  There were these north-south tensions that lingered; territorial stuff.  On the surface everything looked good in the Northern Kingdom called Israel.  The economy was doing very nicely.  The government was stable.  The trains ran on time.  King Jeroboam II, we’ll called him King Jerry Jr., ran a tight ship.  He didn’t have to negotiate with the other party—his party was the only party and there is nothing quite as efficient as one party government.  Best of all, people were filling the pews for worship.  The government and the dominant religion worked hand in hand and prosperity was the result.  When Israel looked to Judah in the south, beset by all kinds of problems, they couldn’t help but be grateful for how well it was going for them up north.  Who could be anything but upbeat? 

 

We have heard the phrase, “If it’s not broken, don’t fix it.”  There is wisdom in that saying, but it is limited wisdom.  We need trouble-shooters (an interesting name for such people) who poke around.  Several years ago a hose to our washing machine burst during the night and we awoke to several inches of water in our basement.  I wish I had checked those hoses before one broke.  When my car is in the garage for anything I want the mechanic to check everything.  When I go to the dentist . . . I don’t want him to poke around too much.  “If it’s not broken, don’t fix it.”  I have a friend who responds to that by saying, “If it ain't broken, break it.”  Sometimes we need to break a good thing to make way for a better thing. What looks well is not always well.

 

All seemed well in Israel.  Who could be anything but upbeat?  Yahweh, the God of Israel and of the universe, that’s who.  God’s concern is for right worship and right living, not “pay your dues and get it over with” Sunday worship.  God’s concern is for the poor and disadvantaged, who are often ignored and despised by the wealthy and the not so wealthy.  God’s concern is for integrated living:  head, heart, and hands united in serving God and others. All was not well.

 

Israel needed to hear a true word, one that neither professional priests nor politicians would speak.  Whom would God use to speak that unpopular word?  Someone well acquainted with Israel’s culture present needs?  Someone with extensive background in diplomatic missions?  Someone who would have instant credibility with King Jerry Jr. and the priests he had in his pocket?  Someone with smooth speech and a thick skin?  It would not be easy to find just that person, but surely God could do it.

 

Whom did God pick for this plum of an assignment?  God picked one of the most unlikely people imaginable.  God picked a southerner to go north.  God picked an agri-business entrepreneur to proclaim the prophetic word.  Amos was thrust outside his comfort zone.  Amos was not qualified for such a task, not by normal standards.  He didn’t have the right bloodlines or the right training or the right address.  Further, he didn’t volunteer for this assignment.  That made him a perfect choice.  God wasn’t asking for volunteers.  God was calling.

 

Amos was proclaiming God’s prophetic word to Israel and it was greatly troubling Amaziah, chief priest of King Jerry’s personal shrine at Bethel.  Amaziah told the king what this outsider had been saying.  King Jerry gave Amaziah permission to set this foreigner right, right out of Israel.  Here is how “The Message” renders Amaziah’s words:  “Get out of here and go back to Judah where you came from!  Hang out there.  Do your preaching there.  But no more preaching at Bethel!  Don’t show your face here again.  This is the king’s chapel.  This is a royal shrine.”

 

When someone with the full authority of the highest ruler in the land tells you to scram, what do you do?  It all depends on why you are there and by whose authority.  Amos hears Amaziah’s threat and responds.  “I am no prophet, nor a prophet’s son; but I am a herdsman, and a dresser of sycamore trees, and the LORD took me from following the flock, and the LORD said to me, ‘Go, prophesy to my people Israel.’”  Amos understands what we have come to call “amateur ministry.”  It is not ministry for money, but for love of God.  The key is not one’s credentials, but one’s calling.  What matters is not one’s formal education, but one’s faithful response.  The authenticity is not in smooth presentation, but in a servant’s heart.  Amos wasn’t doing this for one penny, but in response to a calling from God he never asked for or sought and, at times, probably wished hasn’t come to him.

 

James, on the other hand, might be seen as a likely candidate for proclaiming the word.  James was the half-brother of Jesus, a son of Joseph and Mary born after Jesus.  Just a couple of months ago we heard of a major archeological find.  A burial box found just outside Jerusalem has this inscription on it:  “James, son of Joseph, brother of Jesus.”  That kind of burial box was used in the time of James.  Experts are seeing this as very likely the burial box of James, brother of Jesus, who wrote this fascinating New Testament book.  For good bloodlines and rich first-hand experience, James was no more fit for what God called him to do than was Amos, or you, or me.  It was all of grace that God tapped Amos on the shoulder and tapped James on the shoulder.

 

When has God tapped you on the shoulder for some task or calling that wasn’t your idea?  For me it happened in this way.  I never dreamed of being a preacher.  No one who knew me as a teenager would have dreamed of me being a preacher.  My father was a carpenter and my mother a homemaker and waitress.  My dream was to play second base for the Los Angeles Dodgers or be a pilot.  When it was clear that I would never play anything for the Dodgers, I applied for officer training as a pilot in the Air Force.  I passed the tests, which gave me great pride.  Then I got married and the pilots’ school which I was planning on filled up before I got there and God tapped me on the shoulder.  It wasn’t dramatic.  I can’t mark one day.  There was no heavenly voice or no writing in the sky.  No one looked me in the eye and said, “God wants you to be a pastor.”  To this day I’m amazed at this.  I didn’t seek it or choose it and some days I wonder what in the world I’m doing.  A child of southern California, I never thought I would spend the greater part of my life in a town in upstate New York that I had never heard of until I interviewed there—and come to love it as home.  Some days I feel like a great success and some days I feel like a royal failure.  Most weeks I feel a little of each.  My work causes some people joy and others consternation.  The challenges before me now are as great as I’ve ever known and some days I want to hide from them.  But I will not.  I am neither a prophet nor a prophet’s son.  For whatever reasons, the Lord tapped me on the shoulder and gave me a ministry here.

 

I believe that God has tapped you on the shoulder too.  God has called you into the ministry of the Good News of Jesus.  Whether you ever get paid for it or not matters not at all.  Whether your daily calling is as a carpenter or a homemaker/waitress, as a student or a senator, as an engineer or an electrician, as a receptionist or a retailer—your life and work matter to God as much as Amos’s or James’s or mine.  The heart beat of this congregation is the Spirit of God working in us together and individually, calling all of us into ministry.  The calling is not ours; it is always God’s.  We respond.  It is not our ability, but our availability.  We do not initiate; we cooperate.  We do not go; we are sent.  Jesus said, “You did not choose me but I chose you.”

 

These words from a young African martyr speak for us, the called:

 

"I’m part of the fellowship of the unashamed.  I have stepped over the line.

The decision has been made.  I’m a disciple of Jesus Christ.

I won’t look back, let up, slow down, back away, or be still.

I’m finished and done with low living, sight walking, small planning, smooth knees,

colorless dreams, tamed visions, mundane talking, cheap living, and dwarfed goals.

I no longer need preeminence, prosperity, position, promotions, plaudits, or popularity.

I don’t have to be right, first, tops, recognized, praised, regarded, or rewarded.

I now live by faith, lean on his promise, walk by his patience, lift by prayer, and work by power.

I will not flinch in the face of sacrifice, hesitate in the presence of the adversary,

negotiate at the table of the enemy, or meander in the maze of mediocrity.

I am a disciple of Jesus Christ.

I must go on till he comes, give till I drop, preach till all know, and work till he stops me.

He will have no problem recognizing me—my banner will be clear!"

 

 

 

 

Harry is pastor of Brunswick Presbyterian Church in Troy, NY.

 

 

 

 

 

35 days until

December 27-31, 2009