Nancy E. Petty

Pullen Memorial Baptist Church

July 15, 2007 – Seventh Sunday after Pentecost

Text: Amos 7:10-17

Priest Confronts Prophet

For years, W.W. Finlator stood where I am standing right now, on this hallowed and sacred ground, and said things that irritated the “you know what” out of people. Whether it was about the discrimination of people based on their skin color, the injustices of the Vietnam war, the ignorance and short sightedness of his own people—the Baptists, the unfairness of how powerful institutions and privileged systems treated the least among us, a company’s failure to unionize, or issues of civil liberties he stood his ground and spoke his truth based on the principles and convictions of his faith. His words often troubled the comfortable and comforted the troubled.  As I said about him at his funeral, “…he [was a prophet who] cried out for justice and was often the lone voice speaking in a wilderness of special interests and backroom deals that so often omitted any consideration of justice for all.” And, like the prophet Amos, he frequently encountered serious and sometimes severe opposition from his listeners.

None of us like hearing things that challenge our tightly held biases and systems that make us the powerful and the privileged. I don’t know any among us who delight in hearing that we must love our enemies, pray for those who persecute us, sell all we have and give the proceeds to the poor, and lose our life in order to find it. Neither do we want to hear that to continue to live on this earth, we must consume less, share more, rethink what defines comfort, and acknowledge our interdependence with all God’s creation. We don’t want anyone telling us that the way we are living is reckless, selfish, irresponsible, and unfaithful. For the most part we are a people who enjoy our power and privilege and daily luxuries and we don’t want anyone—preacher, politician, community leader—suggesting to us that we must give those up, share with others, or change how we are living. While our world is very different than Amos’, one thing hasn’t changed about us humans: we don’t like today’s prophets any more than Amaziah and his people liked theirs.

The passage that Gretchen and Larry have read for us this morning is not an easy one to understand. The cast of characters—Amos, the unpopular prophet; Amaziah, the priest who had authority over the sanctuary at Bethel; and Jeroboam, king of Israel—illustrates what happens when those representing the powerful and privileged institutions confront those representing God’s truth. To set the backdrop to this story, it is important to know that Amos has been traveling throughout the northern kingdom preaching and prophesying a message of judgment and impending doom on the people of Israel. His gloomy message, like that of all the prophets, is based on the people’s self indulgence and their unfaithfulness to God. He accuses them of trampling the poor and taking their share of the grain. He says they “push aside the needy in the gate” and follow after what is evil. Their fine houses, good wine and extravagant luxuries at the expense of the poor and needy render their religious offerings and sacrifices empty. Amos’ prediction of God’s judgment for such behavior is one of death for the king and exile for the people. Not a popular message. And now it has reached the center of the kingdom, where all the power and privilege reside. Priest Amaziah, representing the religious institution (and, no doubt, his own interests) senses that the decadent lifestyle of the wealthy is about to come crashing down. He seeks to discredit Amos in a desperate attempt to stop the truth from becoming known. He goes to the king and reports Amos’ prediction; concluding that Amos is conspiring against the King, and thereby Bethel itself. Amaziah then goes to Amos and strongly suggests that he leave Bethel, the home of the king; telling him to save the doom and gloom for Judah. Amos’s response to Amaziah is a bit confusing. He tells Amaziah that he is not a prophet, nor a prophet’s son; but a herdsman. But he also says that God took him from following his flock and said to him, “Go, prophesy to my people Israel.”

It might be interesting to note again here that the prophets of old were not a popular lot. They were generally at best ignored, and at worst killed or banished; and surely Amos was aware that following God’s call to leave his peaceful life as a simple herdsman was not going to have a good personal outcome. And yet he must have believed that he had no choice. God had called him out and out he went. Perhaps W.W. Finlator knew, as well, that speaking out against the injustices of his time would not be well received. But, like Amos, he had an obligation to speak, so speak he did.

While this passage says something to us about prophets and how the world treats them, it strikes me that possibly the message this text has for us is as much about our participation in institutions and palaces of power and privilege than about prophets. When God chooses to bypass our institutions, it is inevitable that those who maintain them and benefit from them will resist, as Amaziah did. Like us, the Hebrews were a stubborn people complacent in a lifestyle protected by the institution. And like the Hebrew people of Amos’ day, we don’t always want to make the sacrifices necessary to create a just and caring community. We can easily fall under the spell of false gods, such as technology and materialism, and drift away from what should be central to our covenant with God and one another. When this happens there are often painful consequences that follow.

For the Hebrews, who eventually broke into two kingdoms of Israel/Samaria in the north and Judah/Jerusalem in the south, their complacent and comfortable lives began to fall apart. Despite the historical realities associated with invasions and displacement and exile of “innocent people” by stronger and more ruthless enemies, the Israelites were compelled by their covenant with Yahweh to make sense out of these calamities by understanding them as God’s response to their failure to live up to their covenant with God. Among the possible transgressions against Yahweh that might account for the devastation and displacement that befell the Israelites across their history, the central ones involved ways in which social justice was undermined and faithfulness to God was neglected or abandoned. Since these actions can become insidious and easy to ignore, the role of the prophets, then as now, in calling attention to them is crucial. A prophet’s job was not so much to foretell the future as it was to interpret the present. They point out the ways in which the community is falling away from their covenant, and they either warn of calamites that may follow or give meaning and purpose to the calamites that have already befallen them. They are calling for repentance and a return to the covenantal responsibilities that include justice, mercy, love for one’s neighbor, and faithful worship of God.

Even if we do not believe today that God literally meddles in human affairs through modern day prophets, as people of faith we can understand that there is a moral sphere of life that is crucial to protect and hold together if we are to continue to inhabit this planet with so many others in a way that enhances life for all. It is sometimes painfully evident that when that moral sphere breaks down many people get hurt, including the “innocent” along with the “guilty.” And so, still today, the theological realities the prophets of the Hebrew Scriptures addressed in their times are just as relevant for us today as they were to the Israelites. We still need the voices of the prophets.

But as I said earlier, when God chooses to bypass our institutions, it is inevitable that those who maintain them and benefit from them will resist, just as Amaziah did. So, prophets always face opposition. But opposition is no proof that one has spoken the truth. “Sometimes the decisions you make and the consequences don’t enable you to be loved;” so said President George W. Bush last week in acknowledgement that public opinion might be against him. Sometimes the prophetic voice comes from the masses to the one lone voice rather than the other way around. More than a few people have succumbed to the temptation of thinking that they are in trouble because they are being “prophetic,” when it may be just because they have been undiplomatic, stupid, or wrong. One needs to pray for the grace to know whether one is standing for the truth, or just being difficult. Our president would do well to start praying for grace!

It is not easy, ever, to speak prophetically. Regardless of where you stand—within or on the outside of any institution that represents power and privilege—being a prophet is risky business. As I was preparing this sermon I thought about the one time I felt called to speak what I thought was a prophetic word. It was almost seven years ago. I stood in this pulpit and attempted to say that I didn’t think Pullen had done all the work it could do around issues of women in ministry. In the days that followed I thought I would be run out of town. Some of you questioned me as to how I could dare suggest that Pullen church had more work to do after all the church had done for women in ministry. Did I not know where I was? Was I an ungrateful, angry woman whose expectations had crossed some undefined boundary? In the course of those conversations I questioned whether I have what it takes to be a prophet. I don’t think I was undiplomatic, stupid, or wrong in suggesting that our community had more work to do when it came to the equality of women in the church. But I can tell you that I still get a knot in my stomach when I sense that God is calling me to speak a prophetic word. I wonder if speaking prophetically is worth risking the relationships I have formed within this community that I value so deeply. I wonder if it will keep me from being invited in to be your pastor or priest in your time of need. I struggle with such questions when the prophet within me confronts the priest within me. But I believe that it is a struggle in which we all must engage if we want to be faithful to God’s calling in our lives.

This church, Pullen church, has a long history of being a prophetic voice in the world. It has not been easy and at times in our life together our prophetic voice has caused us internal pain; at other times external pain. Whether as a community or as an individual, being a prophetic voice takes it toll; but, like Amos, when God calls us to speak God’s truth our covenant with God demands that we speak. If we lose sight of our commitment to speak the unpopular but faithful word among ourselves and in our world we have lost our purpose for being. And when we think we are the only ones who have a prophetic word to speak then we have lost our ability to hear God’s word being spoken. The church is not the only place speaking prophetically, and today it may be the last place. Our responsibility is to take up the prophetic cry from wherever we hear it and expand its voice, bringing the church into the relevant social justice issues of our world today.

So, when the priest in you encounters and struggles with the prophet in you, turn around and face it without fear. It is our hope as a people of faith as we seek to represent God in our world.