On Missions

On Missions

Our “Words” Series

A Sermon for First Austin: a baptist community of faith

By Jared Slack

Micah 6:1-8

September 2, 2018

“I don’t know Jared, it just doesn’t seem like anything I say is getting through to her.” These were words coming to me from the other side of a phone call. Similar words to the many I’ve heard in the past 17 years of being in ministry. 

These words come from a time when I was a chaplain at a home for teenagers and one of the countless conversations with a parent who’d just had a really bad weekend home-visit with their child who spent the majority of their time living where I worked.

“I just feel like she hates our family. Her behavior isn’t improving, she lies to us, she sneaks out when she’s home, and hangs out with the same people that got her into all this trouble in the first place.” 

And before I can say anything, she asks the question I knew was coming:

“Jared, what am I doing wrong?”

Fast forward to my time working in ministry on a college campus.

“I don’t know Jared, it just doesn’t seem like anything I say is getting through to them. I keep telling my parents that the major they want me to pick isn’t the right fit for me and that I really want to switch to something that I’m actually passionate about. I’m just afraid I’ll be a huge disappointment to them if I don’t choose the path they expect from me and I don’t want to carry that burden of having to prove that I wasn’t wrong for going a different direction.” 

And before I can say anything, he asks me the question I knew was coming:

“What am I doing wrong?”

Now fast forward to just a few years later. Sitting across the table from a friend going through a rough patch in his marriage.

“I don’t know Jared. I just feel like she doesn’t care about me anymore. I mean, she says that she loves me but she doesn’t really act like it. I’ve asked her multiple times to go with me to see a couples counselor, but she just responds by being really distant and closing herself off. ” 

And before I can say anything, he asks me the question I knew was coming:

“What am I doing wrong?”

And finally fast forward to just this week on Thursday.

It’s 2 o’ clock and I’m sitting in my usual spot on a couch next to a big open window overlooking some of Austin’s beautiful green belt talking with my therapist.

While I’m not about to open the insane can of worms that is what’s going on in this brain of mine, I assure you that on a rather regular basis some form of that question we always know is coming slips right out of my mouth…

“What am I doing wrong?”

Now for quite a while many scholars have suggested that Micah 6:1-8 is best understood as a depiction of a courtroom scene. One in which God takes on the role of a prosecutor laying out a well-documented legal case against Israel, the chosen people. Which is a fair reading of the text and one that has served us well for some time. So this week as I sat down with a cup of coffee, cracked open my laptop, and began reading through some commentaries and lectionary blogs I couldn’t shake this thought that there seemed to be something else behind this text lingering in the air. 

As you all know, I’m not one to question any of our well-worn traditions or suggest we take a look at things from a different perspective without good reason, but I wonder if you’d give me a bit of a longer leash today so we might see if there’s another worthwhile vantage point to view this from.

In these 8 verses, the prophet purposefully uses language to paint a picture for us of a courtroom scene. One that skillfully conveys all the feelings and emotions brought on by the day’s proceedings. It’s in this depiction that we find a plaintiff, God, who’s reached their limit and is so fed up that they’ve foolishly gone and done something so shame stirring and rumor mill starting as to bring your very own family to court - as though this were some day time faux court TV reality show.

With words like, “hear” and “rise” and “plead your case” the seriousness with which we’re supposed to take these complaints becomes all the more evident. It seems that in all this, something has absolutely touched the very nerve of God.

So I wondered further and deeper into the other words coming from the prophets mouth… “words” is after all what this series we’re in is all about… and I began to come across other words that painted a sort of different, but similar picture, one oddly familiar to me.

“Oh my people… In what have I wearied you? Answer me!”

And before I can say anything, God was asking the question that I already knew was coming:

What am I doing wrong?

And in that moment, something entirely new and different began to come together about this passage. Yes, clearly the prophet wants us to picture a full-fledged courtroom scene complete with banging gavels and angelic jury. But what if there’s another picture we’re supposed to see, too? One maybe not resting simply on the surface, but one deep down below in the depths where less and less light gets to and where less and less of us think to look.

You see, in the courtroom we have the image of God loud and commanding, leveling accusations one after the other. Lining out all these complaints and what feels like a never-ending litany of ways in which Israel has missed the mark with near reckless abandon.

But what if in all these words and feelings of shame, anger, fear, and resentment we weren’t actually bearing witness to someone who needs a good lawyer, but rather someone who actually just really needs a good therapist?

Now, don’t hear me saying that I think God is just like some awkward parent or an insecure college kid, or even an anxiety laden 35 year old man… but maybe I am.

Because as I kept reading this week's text over and over these words, “O my people, what I have I done to you? For I brought you up from the land of Egypt and redeemed you from the house of slavery… O my people remember what happened… that you may know the saving acts of the Lord.”

It all makes me think that maybe, just maybe it isn’t all that far off base for me to say that God comes across here a little bit like an angsty teen or worrisome parent. 

“O my people,” wails God, “what am I doing wrong?”

You see, I think you and I tend to assume that God is always going to lead with the strongest voice, but what if something else is happening in these moments and we’re missing them? What if God’s words aren’t only meant to convict Israel of their disobedience but could also be part of God’s own soul work to reveal the true depth of God’s heartbreak because of Israel’s lack of interest in things like justice, mercy, and humility? 

Friends, it seems like Micah 6 reflects an achingly raw plea for some answers. It seems to me like God is pleading with Israel like a parent desperate for the affection of rebellious child. Or a child aching to be seen by their parents for who they were really and truly created to be.

The prophet Micah pictures for us an exacerbated God, aimlessly wondering about what else could be done or said to convince Israel to finally be the kind of people they were created to be.

People who do justice.

People who love kindness.

People who walk in humility.

So God calls out to the mountains, the hills, and the very foundations of the earth to bear witnesses to God’s accusation that the people have become treacherously self-serving and have forgotten God’s generosity and love. They’ve forgotten the saving acts of God that brought them out of slavery and gave them a new home. 

Through the prophet, God speaks in pleading tones, as a parent would to a child who ignores their love or as a child would speak to their parents who willfully ignore their very heart.

And even more in these words, we find down in this place another question, a burning one, that seems to be at the heart of all of this:

Could I have done anything better?

God says, “what have I done to you?” My people, tell me what could I have done. What could I have done to make things turn out differently, or to at least help them turn out better than this.

These are the words and questions of someone experiencing the most real and raw feeling of them all. The feeling of self-doubt that comes with being in relationship. Opening one’s self and allowing others to see you and know the things that make you tick, the things that make you want to get out of bed in the morning.

And the thing is even with all this vulnerable exposure… God’s people still miss the point. They miss the tone… the crack in the foundation… “God what else do you want from us? Do you want more sacrifices? More expensive livestock? How about a thousand sheep? How much more comfortably pious would you like us to be?”

Yes, these people are religious. Some might even describe them as being faithful. But the Prophet Micah makes it clear that their idea of what religion means is pretty far off from God’s hopes for them and for the world.

And so “What does God want?” you ask. Well, the prophet begrudgingly provides the answer.

God wants us to do justice  —- to be a voice for oppressed persons, widows and immigrants, both legal and illegal, to fight for the rights of the disabled, for minorities, for the elderly, for poor persons, and for every single other person that this world attempts to treat as anything less than God’s child.

God also wants us to love kindness. The Hebrew word here is hesed which means loving-kindness. We respond to God’s love not necessarily by returning it to God, but rather by sharing it with others through kindness and compassion. Because if the message already wasn’t clear enough, it seems that God wants to remind us yet again that no amount of personal devotion or perfected piety can quench God’s desire that we be a people of service and action.

And finally, we’re invited to walk humbly with God: choosing every day to listen for God’s voice where ever it may be heard; by getting to know our neighbors and paying attention to all the ways that God is moving and acting in our world as we’re being shown what faithfulness looks and feels like.

Because at the end of the day, God has said that this is what it means to be a people who are on mission. This is what it means to be obedient to the deepest desires of God’s very own heart. This is what it means to pursue the things that God is passionate about.

I believe the mission that God has in mind for us is nothing less than the remaking and total renewal of the whole world. And for some reason God has decided to do that extremely hard, seemingly impossible task in and through people just like you and me.

I get it; it honestly seems like a plan destined for failure. And if the new aches and pains greeting me each morning as I try to get myself out of bed are any indication, it seems that we’re all running pretty short on time if we want to get much of anything done.

But friends I do believe that God is calling us to be partners on a mission to make the world a better place. A mission of bringing people out of whatever captivity they find themselves in. Whether it be poverty out on the streets or it be apathy sitting here in these pews. God’s ultimate desire is to work with us to bring about the kind of world where every single person can experience the kind of care and compassion that they were designed for.

That’s why the word “mission” is so important to the life of this congregation. It’s important to our life, because it’s important to God’s life.

So whenever the next pleading email is sent out from someone in our church asking for help moving furniture, needing people to bring baked goods for the Oak Springs carnival, calling for volunteers to help build a tiny home at Community First Village, inviting you to join one of our truck runs, or do something crazy like get on a plane a fly half way across the world to do the important work of encouraging and caring for our Global partners.

Don’t think of it as just another thing the church came up with to make your life just a teensy bit more busy… and believe me, I know you’re busy, I’m busy too. There’s a lot of really good stuff streaming right now and in just a few months the trout are going to be calling my name on the Guadalupe River.

But when that next email arrives in your inbox I want you to pause and take a moment to remember this little pep talk we had here today. I want you to remember that you’re being invited to participate in the mission of God and to have your life changed. To experience the fullness of what God desires for you and for the world. To have a hand in bringing about the day when every single person gets the chance to experience the fullness of life that comes by way of doing justice, loving kindness, and walking humbly with God. AMEN.

*artwork: The Last Supper, Print by Sadao Watanabe, artnet.com/artists/sadao-watanabe