Loading...There are a lot of pointing fingers out there.
Politicians pointing fingers at refugees, bankers, the 1%, criminals, “welfare cheats”, corporations.
Constituents pointing fingers at politicians in Olympia, or the other Washington.
Parents pointing fingers at schools; schools pointing fingers at parents.
Religious people pointing fingers at immorality.
Unchurched folks pointing fingers at hypocritical church-goers.
Dogs pointing paws at cats, cats pointing paws at dogs.
OK. Maybe not that last one....
Amos, the prophet, points the finger at people in both kingdoms,
especially at people who are in power but don’t use that power to help and advocate for their community. Rather, they take, take, take, but don’t use what they have taken for the good of the whole group. They spend it on meat, wine, oil, and fancy furnishings (while the vast majority of people get by on veggies and grains, no wine or oil, and a simple mat on the floor).
Amos is not poo-poo-ing the fancy furnishing, or good food, per se. Rather, he’s saying some have taken the good stuff, assuming they deserve it, and then use it
AND all the while
there are people in need and who are suffering,
but being ignored by those who could help.
[fingers in ears “la-la-la”]
But, before we get on the “Amos bandwagon”
and run around pointing fingers at other people and what they do or don’t do,
let’s take a look at our own blindness:
And, in the interest of full disclosure, I’ll start with my own blindness:
My driving route home takes me through downtown. Along my route, I see lots of people on the street corners at traffic lights asking for money for food or shelter (some are brutally honest and ask for money for beer or a joint).
I have the ‘non-look’ down: I do not make eye contact with the person with the sign, rather I reach over to open up and read from the magazine that sits in the seat next to me. Or I intently study the billboards or storefronts across the street. I’ll even focus on the traffic signal as though it’s going to tell me something more interesting than “stay still” or “now you can drive again”.
The other day, I was practicing my zone-out-so-that-I-can-ignore-the-people-who-“make”-me-feel-uncomfortable look. When movement caught my eye. It was a man on the corner with a large white cardboard sign that said “Smile. It’s more fun.” He was looking right at me and jerking his sign to make me notice him. It worked. And, I smiled at him (a tight little smile that was, frankly, begrudging) and he raised his fist in a sign of victory and smiled back at me. The light changed and I drove on.
A day or two later on the same street but at a different traffic light, I saw a driver in a truck in front of me, stick his hand out the window and give a big wave. Curious, I wondered at whom he was waving. It was smile-sign guy, who gave a big wave back.
Now, it’s possible that Driver of Truck and Smile-Sign Guy know each other from their kids’ soccer practices (no, not really) or some other venue, but my guess is that they’ve connected in just this sort of way – by actually looking at each other and seeing each other (even if it is in passing at the street corner). No money was given or received. But, the two saw each other and formed a bond, a little mini-community.
They SAW each other.
How often do we really see each other?
Not just what we expect to see, but what’s really there?
Or, the people who are really around us, but that we tend to gloss over?
I get it. I understand.
At least, I think I do.
There is So. Much. to see that it’s overwhelming.
Flooding in this part of the world.
Unending civil war in this part of the world. Oh, and over here too.
Violence and bombings and terrorism and suicide bombings here and there and everywhere – stabbings in shopping malls, pressure cooker bombs, vests filled with explosives worn by children who are coerced into death.
Famine and drought, heat and crop damage over there.
Racism and the killing of unarmed civilians.
Rioting and righteous anger.
Friends, families, and neighbors screaming invectives at each other (or, “unfriending” each other on Facebook) because of politically divergent opinions and radically different support of political candidates.
And, that’s just what I’ve picked up from the internet and newspapers! (No TV news for me. That’s too stressful)
We’re quite good at pointing the finger.
But, we’re not so good at looking at and seeing,
really seeing, the other person.
The created, beloved, gifted, and precious “other” who God loves.
Jesus tells a story about finger pointing. And, about seeing:
A rich man (with all of the trappings of being rich: expensive suits and lobster/steak for dinner every night) and a poor man (homeless, begging for food, wearing the same outfit every day that becomes dirtier each passing day. Who had companions in the homeless dogs that came by.)
Both men die. The poor man is carried away by the angels to be in the bosom of Abraham (a stand in for the love and promise of God). The rich man goes to the place of the dead and is tormented because it’s a place of emptiness and desolation. Even though there’s a wide gap – a huge chasm – between the two (keep in mind this is a parable that’s helping us to understand the point of the story, not a description of what heaven and hell are like), the rich man, from his desolate place, looks across the gap and sees the poor man, consoled and loved, and tells Abraham to send the poor man to come comfort him: “A bit of cool water for me! It’s agony over here!!”
Abraham replies, “My dear child, nope. There’s a great reversal going on: you had good things in life (and didn’t share them) and now you have the pain of loss; Lazarus had nothing in life (and begged to be seen) and now he is seen and cared for. Besides this even-ing up of things, there’s a big wide gap between us that no one can cross over. A gap, by the way, that you reinforced every time you ignored Lazarus!
The rich man begs for Abraham to send an early warning system to his siblings. But, Abraham reminds them that they have an early warning system: Moses, Amos, and other prophets. Folks who’s very job it was to warn the people that human beings are not made to be selfishly alone and “grabby”; rather humans are made to be in community, to share and celebrate one another’s presence, and to SEE each other.
The rich man still doesn’t get it. “But,” he argues (what a debater!), “if someone from the dead goes to my siblings....!”
This story from Jesus (nor my re-telling of it) is not about
what the afterlife looks like (especially hell), or
the “just deserts” that rich people are going to get.
Like the snippet from Amos’ powerful message,
we are being reminded that
even though we might look past people in need
God sees and cares for all of the beloved people.
There’s such a great parallel between the situations of the “rich man” in the parable and the people in Amos’ warning, people on their “ivory benches” eating expensive food, with the time and idleness for music-making.
If we’re really listening, we hear ourselves in this set-up.
Oh, maybe we don’t have ivory benches to lounge upon,
& we may not perceive ourselves to be in the same class as the rich man,
Yet, maybe there is some truth to it:
we ignore people around us who need to be and deserve to be seen –
the people holding the signs as we drive by,
immigrants who are leaving desperate situations of economic or physical violence that we just cannot even fathom,
racial realities and divisions that we blithely ignore because they don’t seem real to us (so therefore can’t be real?)
Amos and Jesus (and even the writer to Timothy, in our Epistle) make us feel uncomfortable. They poke and prod at us. They needle us.
Because maybe we’re too complacent.
Because God gets angry when some God’s beloved and claimed people are overlooked and ignored. God is reminding us that we’re not the only ones who are beloved and cherished!
Look, and see!
Look, and see! God’s beloved people – everywhere.
Look beyond whatever barrier we put up.
The barrier of physical distance,
or labels,
or newscasts (including the opinion blatherers),
or prejudice,
or fear,
or, even, what seems logical or prudent.
Look beyond the differences and our own shortcomings,
and see.
See the people who God sees.
See the beloved who the Spirit comforts.
See the outcasts and pariahs who Jesus hangs out with.
See the children, women, and men – God’s beloved people – who deserve our care, attention, and fellowship. Who deserve to be seen.
My dear friends,
Not only do we have Moses, Amos, and all the prophets to remind us of this common humanity that we have and this responsibility that we have to care for the people around us,
we have Jesus
who crossed the chasm
who came back from the dead (indeed, went to the place of the dead to make sure to include all of the dead wherever they might be)
who sees you and me
who sees “Smile-sign”guy and “driver of truck” guy
who sees the little inflatable boats of refugees, and the immigrants escaping poverty by riding on the tops of the railroad cars
who sees the children, women, and men experiencing poverty, or abuse, or trafficking
who sees the people we gloss over because we forget to look.
We have Jesus and we know the compassion of God embodied in the life and ministry of Jesus.
We gather each week to celebrate his victory over the grave,
we celebrate the gift of forgiveness when we gather at the Table,
we rejoice in the life we’ve been given in the waters of Baptism.
We give thanks that we live in the light of God’s grace, mercy, and abundance.
We are the people who follow the crucified and Risen Lord.
We are also the people called to see the world (and the people in it, ALL the people in it) as beloved.
We are the people called to love the people of the world as God loves them.
We are the people called to be shaped by the love that God has for us
to live the abundant life of community,
grace,
love,
compassion,
service and mercy
with all of our brothers and sisters.
Right now.
Amen
