Grace and Holy Trinity Cathedral

Sermon

Campaign Promises

September 19, 2004 (Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost -- Proper 20)

By The Very Rev. Terry White, Dean

- Amos 8:4-7
- Psalm 138
- 1 Timothy 2:1-8
- Luke 16:1-13

(From The Lectionary Page)

The story is told of a senator who meets an untimely end and arrives at the entrance to Heaven where St. Peter warmly greets her. "Welcome to Heaven. Before you settle in, I have orders from higher up. Because you were a senator, you have the privilege of spending one day in Hell and one day in Heaven. Then you can choose where to spend eternity."

St. Peter escorts her to the elevator, and down to Hell she goes. When the doors open, the senator finds herself in the middle of a beautifully landscaped ground. In the distance is a clubhouse, and she sees all of her most powerful friends and high officials who worked behind the scenes to lobby and influence. They run to greet her, and reminisce about the good old times. They play some golf and then dine on lobster. The Devil drops by, who really is a very friendly guy, a surprisingly good dancer with a great sense of humor.

Before she realizes it, it is time to go. Everyone gives her a big hug and waves as the doors close and the elevator begins rising. The elevator doors reopen in Heaven where St. Peter is waiting for her.

“Now it's time to visit Heaven.” So 24 hours pass with the senator cloud hopping with a lovely group of contented souls. They relax, sing God’s praises, and have a grand time. Before she realizes it, the 24 hours have gone by, and St. Peter returns. "Now you must choose the place where you want to spend eternity."

The senator reflects for only a moment and then answers: "Well, I would never have guessed it, but though Heaven has been delightful, I think I would be better off in Hell."

So Saint Peter escorts her to the elevator, and she goes down, to Hell. The doors of the elevator open, and a horrible stench fills the air around her. Startled, she looks out onto a barren land covered with garbage. She sees all her friends, dressed in rotten rags, picking up the trash, crying out in anguish. The Devil comes over to welcome her to home sweet home.

"I don't understand," stammers the senator. "Yesterday I was here, it was beautiful. We ate lobster and danced and had a great time. Now all there is is a wasteland, and my friends cry out with despair pleading for an end to their eternal torment."

The Devil smiled. "Senator, you of all people should understand. Yesterday, we were campaigning. Today you voted for us."

As wickedly clever as is today’s Gospel lesson, in this presidential election year, it is both a dream and a nightmare to have these readings from Amos and First Timothy to work with. I was told this past week that some people at the cathedral were waiting to see how the new guy could handle sticky situations. Well, this one is of my own choosing, so away here we go!

Comparing the tone of our first two readings, we have some contrasts, to put it mildly. The prophet Amos was fed up with those rulers, officials and community leaders who trampled the needy, who brought to ruin the poor of the land, and bought off the needy with a few coins and some sandals. Thus, Amos pronounced that God would not forget their unjust decisions, and how the people who needed the benevolent care and protection of those in authority the most, the poor, were in fact cheated. Amos does not give thanks for these who are in authority, and then makes a chilling proclamation: the day is soon coming when the people will hunger for the word of the Lord, but it will not be found. ‘A’ stands for Amos and Angry.

Contrast Amos with Paul’s words to Timothy. Paul was hardly naive about the complexities and moral ambiguities of public life, but he would not give into to cynicism. In fact, this was why Paul said that men and women in public life needed our prayers all the more. Paul new that it would be dangerous for new Christian communities to be seen as not being loyal to the empire. But Paul did not flinch for questioning and confronting when necessary. And as the final verses of the reading make clear, Paul’s society was dealing with a smorgasbord of ideas comparable to the range of issues we deal with today. (H. O’Driscoll, The Word Among Us, Year C, Vol. 3, p.114)

I find that both of these lessons challenge the level of debate of many issues in our country. But lest I point to the speck in the eye of politics, I have enough logs to deal with in the Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion. The Church takes a backseat to no one when it comes to demonizing those we disagree with, or failing to listen to legitimate concerns of others, or effectively shutting off debate by putting up formidable barriers. It is scary to watch society and the church drift towards a point where we may no longer feel confident in saying that there is more which unites us than divides us.

The author of today’s psalm says that our response to such turmoil and division is to sing of Divine love, which endures forever. God does not abandon us, but strengthens us and shows us a way through the deepest of trouble. We react to the poor being trampled, promises broken, power abused, and rhetoric that appeals to fear – by trusting in God. With God, we can and will overcome all else.

A common scene after a fiercely waged primary race is the famous Unity Breakfast. While I want to maintain St. Paul’s spirit of charity, I am suspicious that after months of campaigning on the weaknesses of one’s opponent that all is made better with bacon, eggs, and jam.

But then again, I do that there is a Meal which produces Unity. It is the Meal we are celebrating now. The Son of God by his death and resurrection united us to God and each other forever. As we receive the most precious Body and Blood of Christ, unity overcomes estrangement, fear is cast out, and we are renewed, re-created in the image of Christ. There is nothing so discouraging and truly regrettable as when we, as the Body of Christ, judge others as not being worthy of this meal, or refuse to take our seat at the Holy Table with those we cannot forgive or accept.

For when we receive the Body of Christ and become Christ’s Body in the world, then Amos’ complaints are done away with, for we don’t wait for rulers to care for the poor – we do it. We lift up the trampled down, restore the ill to health, give voice to the voiceless, and replace injustice with righteousness and peace.

I began with a joke on politicians, so let me end with a joke on clergy.

The priest stood at the door shaking hands after the Eucharist had concluded. Little Jonathon walked up to the rector and said, “Good morning. This is for you.” And Jonathon handed Father Leo a dollar bill.

The priest responded, “Jonathon, that’s very nice of you, but you had best put that money in the offering plate.”

“No,” said Jonathon. “It’s for you. In today’s sermon you that we should help poor people. My daddy often says that you are the poorest preacher we’ve ever had, so here’s a dollar to help you!”

My sisters and brothers:

May this be a time for each of us, and together as the Church, to renew our trust in God’s ability to make us the servant church we are called to be.

May we pray for those in authority, both in society and in the church, for the demands are great and issues are often complex.

And when we get angry like the prophet Amos, let us harness that anger and convert the energy into action, by assuming our responsibility as citizens AND as the baptized to build up the reign of God.

Let us not make empty promises, but instead work tirelessly for an end to want, neglect, ignorance and despair, by giving of our time, energy and money.

And most of all, let us not neglect this Holy Meal, where true Unity is offered, where we are made one with Almighty God and with one another. Let us never turn people away, both by what we do and not do.

This Table is large enough for all, and meant for all.

No more campaign promises – it is time to vote and get to work.

Amen.