Ordinary
28B
Oct 11, 2015
Ancho + Corona
Oct 11, 2015
Ancho + Corona
Scripture:
Job 23: 1-17; Mark 10: 17-31
Job 23: 1-17; Mark 10: 17-31
I’d like to
open and close this sermon time with a song that my Great-grandfather wrote the
lyrics to:
Stars
that shine above
Tell of God’s love
For even when clouds hide,
Still, they are there
So, we, dear Father
Though shadows hide Thee,
Know Thou art keeping watch
With tenderest care.
Tell of God’s love
For even when clouds hide,
Still, they are there
So, we, dear Father
Though shadows hide Thee,
Know Thou art keeping watch
With tenderest care.
Last Friday was the day of the
Ancho Star Party, when we gathered to study the heavens and marvel at God’s
beautiful creation. Yet, in Corona, the world seemed shrouded in cloud. It was
like a blanket, covering over everything – that cloud clung to the ground and
to the sky above. As I drove down to Ancho, I kept thinking that it was like
the world was disappearing around me. Even after heading through the Tecalote
pass, the clouds covered the skies above. We had gathered to view the heavens,
but the heavens were closed to us.
Yet, like the blanket it
resembled, it was comforting too. After all, we were able to have fellowship
and food – to warm the church not only with the woodstove, but with love and
affirmation. Even not being able to see the stars, we studied about the history
of the constellations, and practiced with our star charts. Could we identify
the stars? Could we remember their relations to each other?
That’s where Job is in our
passage today – in the midst of cloud-wrapped darkness. Verse 17, in the
Revised Standard Version, reads “For I am hemmed in by darkness, and thick
darkness covers my face.” For Job, it’s worse: not only can he not see the
stars, but he has no food or fellowship with his friends or his wife. He and
his friends have spent 20 chapters discussing theological points, about why Job
“deserves” to be punished with suffering, and Job refutes all their points. The
arguing has already gone on so long that it’s stopped being about what the
other person said. We’ve all had arguments that have done this, right? Where
you stop listening to the other person , and just argue, almost against
yourself? Well, Job’s response to Eliphaz, which we read today, does not
directly address the concerns he raised in the last chapter. It seems as though
these friends did their best for Job while they sat with him silently, in vigil
for the first week; now, all their yammering is just making things worse.
This darkness that Job finds
himself in is a form of unknowing – Job is asking, “how can I know how to find
God?” After all, Job desperately wants to see God – look at verse 3, “If only I
knew where to find God, I would go to his court.” But why does Job want to go
to God? To argue his case before the great judge.
It’s clear that Job initially
thinks that God either doesn’t know about his situation, or that God just
hasn’t taken everything into account. Look at verse 7 – “Honest people can reason
with [God], so I would be forever acquitted by my judge.” Job’s not wrong that
God is an honest judge – but he is wrong in thinking that God is avoiding him. Every
direction that Job goes, he feels like God is not there. This is directly
opposite the experience of God described by the Psalmist in Psalm 139:
Where can I go from your spirit? Or where can I
flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there; if I make my bed
in Sheol, you are there. If I take the wings of the morning, and settle at the
furthest limits of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me and your right
hand shall hold me fast.
Compare that to verse 10 of our
Job text: “For [God] knows where I am going, and when [God] tries me, I will
come out as pure as gold.” You see? Job thinks God is purposefully avoiding
him, so as to not let him come to trial – as Job thinks he will surely come out
“as pure as gold.”
Job’s reaction is not to curse
God, as his wife suggested last week, or to falsely seek absolution for sins
that he truly hasn’t committed – but to lament. Now, this isn’t immediate;
remember, we’ve been listening to Job talking for 20 chapters about God;
but here, Job starts to address his own fears.
Lament is a Latin word that we’ve
adopted through French influence into English. It means, literally, to “weep,
wail, or mourn” in Latin – and that’s a good translation of the Hebrew,
“saphat”, meaning literally to “tear your hair” or figuratively, to mourn
openly. Mourning and Lamenting tend to go hand-in-hand, but lamenting has an
extra sense of seeking retribution for unjust treatment. Therefore, we lament
more situations than we mourn – after all, when we say the Lord’s Prayer, we
are lamenting that God’s kingdom is not yet on earth, and asking for the
strength to help build it. When we stand up for not only ourselves, but those
whose voices are not heard, we are participating in lamentations.
Job, in the darkness of
unknowing, illustrates what to do: Lament! Cry against the systems that hold
back justice. Speak up for yourself and others who are being mistreated.
To see what happens when we don’t
lament, let’s take a look at our Gospel lesson. Here, we see Jesus approached
by an unknowing man. He runs up, throws himself at Jesus’ feet, and asks Jesus
how to inherit eternal life. The man is showing such enthusiasm – even calling
Jesus, “Good Teacher,” a title which is never repeated by anyone else in the
Bible. But Jesus deflects his question, first responding that no one but God is
truly good. The man shows that he is listening by next calling Jesus by the
plain title, Teacher.
So, Jesus asks him if he’s kept a
series of commandments: Don’t murder. Don’t commit adultery. Don’t steal. Don’t
cheat/defraud. Honor your father and mother. It’s interesting that these
commandments are all (but one) from the Decalogue, the ten commandments. The
ones left out from that list are all about God: Keep God first, make no idols,
keep the Sabbath.
Oh, and one is swapped – Jesus
says don’t cheat or defraud, instead of don’t covet. We’ll come back to this in
a bit.
The man responds that he has kept
them all, and Jesus tells him, “But wait… there’s one more thing! Go, sell all
you have, give the money to the poor, come and follow me.” There are five verbs
in this “one more thing” – Go, sell, give, come, follow. And this seems
straightforward, if a bit convicting: Just keeping the commandments isn’t
enough. One must also eek the bettering of the world – acting against the
injustice of poverty.
But… that’s not the whole story.
Look at the question and answer again: “What must I DO to INHERIT eternal
life?” Jesus' answer: Commandments. The commandments Jesus lists – even the
wonky “don’t cheat/defraud” – are proscriptions against actions that you DO to
get an inheritance. Don’t murder – you can get an inheritance usually only
after a person dies, so murder might seem like a way to get it. Don’t commit
adultery – Well, Jesus has just finished saying that divorcing someone and
remarrying is committing adultery. Whether or not we still hold to that today,
the point is that by re-marrying someone, you could receive an inheritance from
someone else. Don’t steal – this is straightforward, don’t steal someone else’s
inheritance. Don’t lie – don’t say that an inheritance is yours in order to
receive that inheritance. Don’t cheat/defraud – this is similar to don’t lie –
don’t pretend to be someone else to receive their inheritance. If Jesus had
said, “don’t covet,” it wouldn’t have been as strong an indicator, as coveting
often leads to a desire to cheat/defraud. Honor your father and mother – after
all, if you don’t, they’ll cut you out of their will, and you won’t receive an
inheritance.
All of this is Jesus checking to
see if this man has done anything that he REALLY shouldn’t have. It is this
man’s unknowing – of the fact that inheritance isn’t something you DO something
to get – that leads to Jesus’ exchange that it is difficult for the rich to
enter heaven. Often, wealth is associated with power, or with goodness – just
look at Job’s friends, who think he must have done something bad, since he’s
lost all of his wealth. With that mindset, you might very well think you can DO
something in order to secure for yourself what you want – that is, what you
covet.
This man wanted eternal life for
himself – and wanted to throw his wealth at the problem in order to get it. But
you can’t buy eternal life! It’s not like you’ll find it on Amazon or E-bay,
listed under “Salvation – Eternal life!” So, Jesus is telling the rich man to
publicly lament – to cry against the injustice of poverty and do something
about it.
Job has lost everything, and
laments that God seems far away – and so, Job laments in the darkness of
unknowing. He cries against the injustice and cries for a fair trial. The rich
man has lost nothing, has much, and wants more. Jesus calls him to lament
against the injustice of his standing, and the way society is structured, and
he refuses, going away sad.
That leads us to this question: Which of these men
does God look on with favor?
The answer? Both of them – but
only one is truly seeking God.
Just as we at Ancho were seeking
the stars – by studying, and waiting together, the clouds cleared up just in
time. It was a beautiful miracle that that which we were seeking was revealed
to us when it suited God – in God’s own time. As we’ll see next week, that’s
how it is with Job, too.
May you seek God – lamenting
against injustice, and doing what you can to help bring God’s kingdom here on
earth. Amen.
I am not
afraid
When the shadows fall
And it grows too dark to see
For Thou, dear Lord,
Who watches over all,
Will care for my loved ones and me
When the shadows fall
And it grows too dark to see
For Thou, dear Lord,
Who watches over all,
Will care for my loved ones and me
