When Is It Finished?
Sermon at Oakhurst Baptist Church
Sunday, March 14, 2004
Leslie Withers
The Word from the cross:
Later, knowing that all was now completed, and so that the Scripture would be fulfilled, Jesus said, "I am thirsty." A jar of wine vinegar was there, so they soaked a sponge in it, put the sponge on a stalk of the hyssop plant, and lifted it to Jesus' lips. When he had received the drink, Jesus said, "It is finished." With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit. John 19:28-30
The Gospel reading:
At that time some Pharisees came to Jesus and said to him, "Leave this place and go somewhere else. Herod wants to kill you."
He replied, "Go tell that fox, 'I will drive out demons and heal people today and tomorrow, and on the third day I will reach my goal.' In any case, I must keep going today and tomorrow and the next day--for surely no prophet can die outside Jerusalem!
"O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing! Look, your house is left to you desolate. I tell you, you will not see me again until you say, 'Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.'
Luke 13:31-35
I found out that I was going to be preaching from this lectionary text on the week after Rabbi Salkin preached here for our Covenant Sunday. As you may recall, Rabbi Salkin spoke eloquently about aspects of the movie The Passion of the Christ that were anti-Semitic or could provoke anti-Semitism. Going beyond the Gospel texts, the movie draws on Catholic traditions dating back to the Middle Ages in which Jews bear blood-guilt for Jesus’ torture and death.
So then I am presented with this text:
It is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem. Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it!
Yes, Jerusalem is a Jewish city, the capital of the nation of Israel. But Jerusalem was the place not because Jews lived there, but because it was at the center of life in that part of the world.
Clarence Jordan was a graduate of Southern Seminary who got the radical idea that we were actually supposed to follow Jesus and model our lives after his teachings. He moved to rural south Georgia, near Americas, and founded an inter-racial Christian community called Koinonia Partners. By day he farmed, and at night he worked on his own translation of the Gospels from the Greek into Southern vernacular. He called them the Cotton Patch Gospels, and set them in Georgia. Listen now to the Cotton Patch version of the Luke passage.
Just then some church members came to him and said, “You better clear out of here in a hurry, because Governor Herod wants to kill you”
He said to them, “Go tell that sly old fox that today and tomorrow I’m casting out demons and carrying on my healing work. The day after that I’ll be finished. You know, I’ve got to keep going today, tomorrow and the day after tomorrow, because it just isn’t proper for a prophet to get killed outside the state capital.
“O Atlanta, Atlanta, you crush the life out of your men of God, and ostracize those who try to show you a better way. Many a time I’ve wanted to bring your citizens together as a hen gathers her biddies under her wings, and you would have none of it. All right, your city’s future is left up to you. But I’ll tell you this: you won’t see me around again until you’re crying out, “Please, God, send us some dedicated leadership.”
In Clarence Jordan’s version, Nazareth was Valdosta, and Jesus was a “Valdostan” – a hick from the sticks. And Atlanta is the happening place – the center of the particular universe that was the setting for the story.
If someone had set the story in China, then today we’d be saying, Beijing, Beijing, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! And that would also be appropriate.
But to the writers and the early readers of the Gospels, Jerusalem was more than the capital. It was the city of light, the city on the hill, the city build to the glory of God.
Jeru – salem – the very name means city of justice and peace. It is the embodiment on earth of the Holy City that John describes in Revelation 21:1-4.
So it is particularly tragic that Jerusalem the earthly falls so far short of Jerusalem the Golden. It is as though when we try hardest to build something good, to the glory of God, a blessing to suffering humanity that we instead institutionalize evil and build a city that kills prophets and stones strangers.
Will Campbell is another Baptist preacher in the mold of Clarence Jordan. He spoke down in the old fellowship hall here at Oakhurst many years ago, and he said one thing I’ve never forgotten. “All institutions,” he said, “are inherently sinful.”
Walter Wink said something similar but at much greater length in his trilogy about the principalities and powers. Evil is inevitably institutionalized, any time we build an institution. And that evil takes on powers – demonic powers – beyond those we intended to vest in it.
Still, it all boils down to: All institutions are – by their very nature -- sinful. And somehow the ones in which we invest the most passion and hope wind up killing the prophets, stoning those who are sent to it.
Many of you know that two years ago I went to work for Heifer International, an international development agency that provides livestock and technical assistance to poor farmers in rural areas around the world. I felt called to the work and believed that through Heifer I would be able to put the gifts God has given to me in service to the vital work of helping families in poor communities around the world become food self-sufficient. I loved my job, and other people will confirm that I made many useful contributions during those two years.
I don’t think I was any more of a prophet than most people at Heifer, but when my supervisor retired, the man who replaced her abruptly terminated me, with no reasonable explanation. Moreover, I was treated like a criminal – forbidden to speak to my co-workers and only allowed to return to my office under supervision to remove my personal effects. I was given no severance pay and a “neutral” reference. At first they threatened to contest my claim for unemployment benefits if I told anyone what had happened to me.
That was in November, and Oakhurst was about to launch a fundraising drive for Heifer as a part of the special Christmas offerings for missions. After I negotiated to have the “gag” order lifted and I was free to speak I told only a few people at Oakhurst what had happened to me. Somewhere in the world a woman now has a goat. She has milk to give her children and money to send them to school, and that’s a good thing. Raising money to send livestock where it’s needed is good work, and Heifer does it well. I didn’t want confusion over what had happened to me dampen the church’s enthusiasm for that mission.
Since I was terminated I have heard from a remarkable number of people working for other nonprofit organizations who’ve had similar experiences. The institution that they thought was a vehicle for saving the world turned on them and treated them unjustly or cruelly or both. Killing the prophets and stoning those who are sent to them…I know people to whom it’s happened at Amnesty International, Care, Habitat for Humanity, Sierra Club and others. We’ve all read about the corrupt United Way official who cooked the books and pocketed the money, or the head of a major Baptist denomination who used the denomination’s funds to build a mansion for his mistress. Not to mention the questionable practices of some of the groups raising money for the victims of 9/11.
And then there’s the Southern Baptist Convention. I know that many of you devoted large portions of your lives to making that institution an effective vehicle for doing God’s work in this world. To see that body, for which so many people prayed and worked and sacrificed, fallen into such evil ways is deeply painful.
How are we to do God’s work in the world when every temple we try to build turns into the tower of Babel instead?
What was Jesus’ response to corruption in Jerusalem? He’s not angry. He doesn’t call down God’s wrath on the wicked city or start turning people into pillars of salt. Instead he mourns: “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”
He weeps, and yet he turns toward Jerusalem. “Go and tell that fox for me, ‘Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work. Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.’”
Today and tomorrow -- we keep doing the work for as long as we can. We send a goat to Haiti, a flock of chickens to Afghanistan; we build a house for Habitat; we write letters on behalf of Amnesty International. One of my favorite lines in the old hymn “I will arise and go to Jesus,” is “If you wait until you’re better, you will never go at all.” If we wait to find the perfect institution, the purely good organization to which we can give time and money, then we’ll wait on the sidelines all our lives. We need to wade on in and improve and strengthen the effort as best we can.
Sometimes we have to simply say the work is finished, as Heifer is finished for me, as the Southern Baptist Convention is finished for all of us. It is truly finished. But wasn’t it good that we stayed as long as we could, casting out demons and healing people? (At least, we tried.) Several of you sitting in these pews this morning wouldn’t be here if we hadn’t stayed in the Southern Baptist Convention to bring God’s light into that darkness for as long as we were able. Paradoxically, their attempt to “kill the prophet” brought us to your attention and you to us. God works in amazing ways.
Earlier I quoted Will Campbell, who said in the Fellowship Hall of Oakhurst Baptist Church – “All institutions are inherently sinful.” He went on to say that the church is the most sinful of them all, because the institutional church is so sure it’s serving a divine mandate and is therefore immune to sin. We all chuckled at the irony of a Baptist preacher standing in a church facility, speaking in program sponsored by the church, calling the church sinful. We were able to chuckle because of course we all understand that Oakhurst is exempt. After all, we are not here by chance – we are the church.
And today – today of all days, surely I’m not going to stand here and say that Oakhurst Baptist Church is a sin-filled, sinful institution – not just as we’re getting ready to launch a capital fundraising campaign for the building!
Well no, I’m not. I honestly do think this faith community does better at staying faithful than most institutions I’ve known. There have been times when most of us have not been compassionate toward a few of us whose needs or opinions are different. We can get lost in our own bureaucracy and neglect to put in a handicapped entrance for years. We need to be vigilant and prayerful and always mindful of the diversities we embrace.
As I look back over pain and suffering caused by sinful institutions I have known and loved, the key ingredient seems to be power – power, and its sidekicks wealth and status. Herod, grasping for power, kills innocent children and then finally kills the prophet. I suspect I’m gone from Heifer because I was perceived as a threat to someone’s power. The Southern Baptist Convention was defending its power as an institution when it kicked us out.
It’s not easy to accumulate power or status at Oakhurst. We have not only our covenant but also a church structure based on that covenant that rotates power and status among many people. When is the last time you saw a chair of deacons make a power grab? It’s not going to happen. Or can you even imagine Amy Greene as a dictator? Even the power of the pulpit is dispersed. Hearing from many different voices helps us stay faithful to God and faithful to our covenant. Lanny thought when he became senior pastor at Oakhurst he had real power. But a couple of months after he arrived the deacons had a meeting and forgot to invite him. So much for the power of the pastor.
No, in this church every member is truly a minister, and that’s where our power lies.
I’ll confess I worried a few years ago as our new building took shape that having an attractive facility would somehow turn our heads, that we’d put our treasure into bricks and mortar and forget who we are called to be. But that has not happened. We have new mission groups, new activities in the building, new opportunities to serve our neighborhood, new members joining and making new things happen.
We’re always in danger of falling into complacency, of being proud to the point of arrogance, of failing to heed the voices at our margins. But then we have this season of Lent to reflect, repent, to turn to Jerusalem , to turn to God.
O God of earth and altar, bow down and hear our prayer.
Our earthly leaders falter, our people drift and die;
The walls of gold entomb us, the swords of scorn divide;
Take not thy thunder from us, but take away our pride.
Awaken us to action and forge us into one
Defying sect and faction; O God, Your will be done!
Oppressive systems snare us; our apathies increase.
Great God, in mercy spare us for justice and for peace!
This beautiful prayer by Gilbert Chesterton and Jane Parker Huber is set to music as the hymn, “O God of Earth and Altar.” Please join me.
Benediction
Go now to do the work that God has set before you, even if that means going to the State Capital. Cast out demons. Heal the sick. Keep on working tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. Keep it up until you can say, “It is finished.”