Fallen Sparrows

June 19, 2005 (Fifth Sunday after Pentecost; Proper 7)

By The Rev. Benjamin J. Newland

- Jeremiah 20:7-13
- Psalm 69:1-18 or 69:7-10, 16-18
- Romans 5:15b-19
- Matthew 10:(16-23)24-33

(From The Lectionary Page)

We begin this week with the words of Jeremiah:

O LORD, you have enticed me,
and I was enticed;
you have overpowered me,
and you have prevailed.

These are the words of a poet seduced by God, lured into a relationship which has now become far more than he bargained for. Jeremiah has agreed to carry the word of the Lord to the people of Israel, yet that word has become a burden, a "reproach and derision all day long." And further, he cannot escape his role:

If I say, "I will not mention him,
or speak any more in his name,"
then within me there is something like a burning fire
shut up in my bones;
I am weary with holding it in,
and I cannot.

These are the words of a reluctant messenger, and no wonder. Jeremiah is given a message to deliver that no one is going to want to hear. And so he tries to not speak. He tries to ignore the compulsion his relationship with God has placed upon him and to hold inside the words he is given to voice. Yet he cannot, for God is with him like a dread warrior, and the urge to speak is like fire within his bones.

So what are these words the poet is ordered to speak? Just what is it that Jeremiah doesn't want to say? Essentially, that Jerusalem has lost its way, abandoned its relationship with the God of Justice, and will therefore soon be destroyed. You can see why Jeremiah might not want to say that, especially not to the priests and rulers of the city who were responsible for things, and probably thought they were doing just fine. Social critics, particularly those who are skilled enough to get under people's skin with the truth, are never very popular. He was right, by the way. Even as Jeremiah read his poetry in the House of the Lord, the newly minted Babylonian Empire was remaking the world in its own image. Jerusalem's brief independence would soon be over.

Jesus is right in tune with the idea of reluctant messengers sent into hostile territory. He comes right out and tells his disciples that he's sending them like sheep to the wolves. He warns them that they will be rejected more often than not, that they will be dragged before synagogues and councils, governors and kings, to be ridiculed and flogged for their efforts. Brothers will betray brothers, children their parents, and there will be death and hatred for the messengers because of Jesus and the words he is giving them to speak.

This was probably less than encouraging to the disciples. They followed Jesus because they believed in the new world he was telling them about: the Kingdom of God, which was unlike any kingdom or nation or empire ever seen before on Earth. New not because God had just now thought it up, but because we'd never pulled it off before. The disciples wanted to create this Kingdom of God on earth with Jesus' help, yet here he was telling them that he was going to leave them to it, and that they could expect some serious opposition while they were at it.

This is the grim reality that faced the disciples as they set about building the Kingdom of God. It's not quite as bad today for Christians that want to try and make the world a better place by practicing their faith in God. Perhaps the deaths warned of by Jesus are more often metaphorical deaths these days: death of pride, or death of financial security, or death of a career's worth of achievement.

My favorite part of the Gospel reading is that bit at the end about the sparrows. We tend to imbue anything Jesus says in the Gospels with an air of religious dignity and gravitas, but let us remember that he's talking about sparrows, which are hardly the world's most noble bird. After all of his grim warnings about what the disciples were up against, I imagine Jesus offering some light-hearted consolation:

"What about the sparrows?" he asks. "You can buy two of these annoying little birds for a penny, but why would you want them anyways? Yet even these loud-mouthed, greedy little things are precious in the sight of God. God knows when even one of these little winged abominations falls from its perch. How much more must God value you, when you are known so well that the hairs of your head are counted?"

The Son of God informs his disciples, and by proxy those of us hearing his words today, that whatever hardships we have to face in going about his business, God holds us dearly. People who can kill your body are scary. But a major theme of religion is transcending the scary. So, while people may kill your body, they cannot kill your soul. While the world may mock your efforts to create the Kingdom of God on Earth, they cannot take from you the peace that comes from doing God's work. If you have nothing to die for, you have nothing to live for. Somewhat morbid, perhaps, but true nonetheless.

And your death may be required, in one way or another. Notice how Jesus said that God would know when a sparrow fell, but he never said God would do anything about it? It may be that not one sparrow will fall without God, but the Sparrow will still fall. God give us the courage to fly and to fall, and the comfort of being known by grace.