Episode 40: 5/18/09

Readings:

Psalm 79
Leviticus 25:33-55
James 1:1-15
Luke 9:18-27

Sermon:

When I was a teenager I was constantly arguing with my mother. Many times I would think confidently that I was ahead until I would make the mistake of asking Why? one time too many. Then she would roll out her heavy-duty discussion-ending ultimate appeal-to-authority answer: “Because I am your mother, who carried you in my womb for nine months and went down to death’s door to deliver you. That’s why.”

Although I would roll my eyes at this dramatic account of my coming into the world, it did have the desired effect of reminding me that whatever disagreements I had with my mother, she had done something for me that, combined with her continuing love and care, demanded my trust and respect and obedience.

We see something similar in today’s Old Testament reading. When God commands the Israelites to treat the poor and enslaved among them fairly and humanely, He reminds them that He is the Lord God who brought them out of Egypt into the Promised Land, a summary version of the events of the Passover, the crossing of the Red Sea, His continuing love and care throughout the forty years of wandering in the wilderness. God reminds His people of these events to show that He is not commanding them out of caprice or as a tyrant, but as someone who has proven Himself worthy of their trust and respect and obedience.

He also reminds them of their recent history in order to inspire in them not a desire for revenge for their sufferings, but something much more radical: a sense of compassion for their fellow man. It’s hard for us as modern people to realize how truly revolutionary these commands were. Even in these difficult economic times, when many among us are losing their jobs and their homes, we do not have to worry about being sold into slavery, along with our families, in order to pay off our debts.

For most of human history, however, the prospect of being enslaved was a realistic fear for people of all classes and countries: the constant threat of war, conquest and capture affected every member of society, from the king and his nobles, who would make valuable hostages, to the merchants and farmers who suffered from the economic devastation following both large- and small-scale conflicts. And even in times of peace, there were natural disasters such as drought or famine, and domestic tragedies such as the death of a husband or father, that could propel families into a life of captivity and bondage.

We see this throughout the Old Testament, for example in the story of the widow who came to Elijah for help when she was overwhelmed by debts and her two young sons were about to be taken into slavery as payment. We see it in the New Testament in Jesus’ parable of the ungrateful servant, who after being forgiven a tremendous debt that he could never repay, in turn showed no mercy to a fellow servant who owed him a much smaller debt. We see it in the words of the prophets who warned Israel that God would judge them for their treatment of the poor and the oppressed, the widowed and the orphaned.

The very idea that the poor and the oppressed, the widowed and the orphaned should be treated humanely and not as cattle in the field comes back to this radical command by God to His people: remember that I brought you out of slavery in Egypt. The whole concept of social justice and human rights was born out of that command.

Our recent history has been consumed with the idea of social justice: reformers struggled for many long years to abolish institutions such as slavery and indentured servitude, and most of our economic safety net, such as social security, disability insurance, bankruptcy laws, came as efforts to protect the poor and oppressed, the widowed and orphaned, the victims of natural or man-made disasters from starving in the streets or languishing in debtor’s prisons. These reformers have often been dedicated Christians and Jews who took seriously God’s command to love their neighbor as themselves.

We have also seen the terrible consequences that have followed when men sought change based on a desire for revenge rather than compassion for their fellow man: the horrors of the Nazis and Communists and Islamic extremists who have sought to remold society in ways God never intended, resulting in the slaughter of millions of innocents and the slavery of millions more. We see it in the terrorists and criminals who take hostages and traffic in human lives, treating them as nothing more than cattle to be bought and sold for money or political concessions.

We may feel helpless to do anything about this, we may even feel that God does not concern Himself with these matters anymore. But this ignores the fact that God is the same yesterday, today, and forever, and that His burning desire is to set His people free, both from the chains of sin, but also from the cruel bonds of human slavery. We may grow impatient, as the Psalmist did when he cried out:

Why should the nations say,
"Where is their God?"*
Before our eyes, make known among the nations
that you avenge the outpoured blood of your servants.
(Psalm 79:10)

But as we lift up our prayers on behalf of the poor and the oppressed, the prisoners, the hostages, the modern-day slaves, we must remember that our God is the Lord God who brought His people out of slavery in Egypt into the Promised Land. By His mighty actions in the past, He has proven Himself faithful and trustworthy. When we plead like the Psalmist:

May the groans of the prisoners come before you;*
by the strength of your arm
preserve those condemned to die.
(Psalm 79:11)

we can feel confident that our God is the same God who not only carries us in His arms but has, through His Son, Our Savior, gone down to death’s door to deliver us.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.