Feast Day of John the Baptist – Malachi 3:1-4
I’m feeling a little frustrated this week. I’ve been getting more involved lately in my role as director of public policy for the synod, and as part of that, I’ve decided to take the advice of one of the great theologians of the 20th century, Reinhard Niebuhr, and add reading the news to my daily devotions and prayer, along side the Bible. The idea is to help see scripture as truly applicable to today’s circumstances. The reality is… a bit disheartening.
The big story this week has, of course, been the conviction of Penn State football coach Jerry Sandusky on 45 counts of child molestation. The upcoming election and the hate it spews is, of course, enough to get anyone angry, though of course our worries aren’t nearly as bad as those surrounding the announcement of Egypt’s new president this morning, with protesters in the streets and talk of revolution. And then I think of all the things that don’t get covered in the news, the people still starving, the wars still being fought. Everywhere I look, I feel more and more saddened by the state of affairs in our world.
And so, I look to the Church, to Christianity, to find hope. And instead, it looks just like a mirror of the rest of the world. William Lynn, an assistant to the bishop in Roman Archdiocese of Philadelphia, was convicted on Friday of child endangerment, because of mismanagement of molestation charges against a priest in his responsibility. A CNN commentary this week talked about the popular redefinition of Christianity, turning “Love your neighbor” into “Hate the gays, Mormons, and Muslims.” (1) And I think of all the things that are suffering as Christianity slips in numbers — the tighter and tighter budgets of organizations like Lutheran Social Services and Lutheran World Hunger and Lutheran World Relief.
It can’t be helped, that growing sense of frustration, a feeling of doubt. Where is God in all this? Isn’t Christianity a faith that proclaims a world transformed? What’s the problem? Or maybe Christianity is just a nice idea, a faith that can help tell us what we can do to live well, to be good people, a sort of “Good Works Club,” but that isn’t really bigger than ourselves.
If you’ve been listening to my sermons lately, you know my pattern is to say that this isn’t a new question (which suggests it’s time for me to come up with a new pattern). But this question is so old, and so important, that it has it’s own name. The question of theodicy–where is God in all this–is something the ancient Hebrews had been asking for a very long time. And it’s exactly this that led to the prophecy of Malachi in today’s reading.
Most of us don’t know our Biblical history, so here’s an overview of the situation: In the early 500’s B.C., the Babylonians attacked and captured Jerusalem. They took the powerful, wealthy, and educated people from Israel and relocated them, exiled them, to Babylon, leaving behind only the poorest of the poor. A little less than 100 years later, a new force was in power (the Persians) who let the exiles go home, and start rebuilding. What they found when they got there was disheartening. They began to wonder just where God was in all of this. Perhaps He had abandoned them, their land, their people.
Theodicy is a problem. It’s supposed to be one of those unanswerable questions. But Malachi answers it, and I think he has the right answer. In the midst of the mess of our world, where is God? God is here. For the exiles, that meant here, in God’s holy land, among His holy people, in His holy temple. Malachi speaks of a messenger that is coming to show us God’s presence.
And then listen to these words: He is like a refiner’s fire, and like fuller’s soap. These are powerful words! A refiner’s fire, a heat so powerful that it can remove impurities from precious silver. And a fuller’s soap– We don’t have fullers in today’s world, but the modern analogy would be the scouring, caustic chemicals that a dry cleaner uses to get the dirt and grime and stains out of the most precious of fabrics.
There are two things to hear here. The first is that we are precious. Valuable. That we matter to God. It may seem like God isn’t particularly invested in the problems of this world. But in fact, Malachi wants us to know that there is nothing more important to God. It’s a refrain I repeat again and again when I do children’s sermons, sounding I’m sure like a broken record. But God loves us, truly loves us, and what happens to us matters. We are precious in His sight.
The second thing we need to notice is that God is busy, hard at work. And that work is powerful. Powerful enough to separate out and destroy all of the impurities, all of the evil, all of the hate, all of the brokenness of the world. Yes, we should be brokenhearted at the bad news we read. But how much worse if these things are never brought to light? If people are allowed to go on hurting others, hurting children? If the voices of protesters are ignored and elections are controlled by dictators? If hungry are never fed, if violence is never stopped, if sickness is never healed?
No, the Gospel has power to do these things. Even here, even now. In just three weeks, Sue Hudson and I will be going to New Orleans with 14 of our youth members. There, we’ll join with 36,000 other Lutherans from around the country to bring healing to the city that was devastated–is still devastated–by Hurricane Katrina in 2005, to tell the people who live there that we have not forgotten, that God has not forgotten them, that they are precious, that God works with power. At the same time, at the synod assembly I asked people to write letters to their senators to help provide funding to stop domestic violence. Within 24 hours, all fifty blank letters I’d brought were gone, mailed, to provide witness to those people who suffer abuse that they are precious, that God works for them with power.
And look at the relationships that people here, in this congregation, share with one another. I have seen people here care for one another, celebrate with one another, show love to each other that is as deep as the love we have for our families. These are not relationships that can grow up in a “Good Works Club.” They can only come from the power of the Gospel, from the love we have in Christ Jesus.
This is what John the Baptist and his story reminds us, today as we celebrate his birth. John’s message was clear. As prophet of the most high, John baptized and preached repentance and forgiveness of sins. He taught people to turn away from their old lives. And turn– Where? Not to him, not to good works, not to some wonderful vision. But to turn to Jesus. To turn to the Christ that is here. Walking here among us. Here in the bread and wine. Here in the people that gather in love. Here to renew the world in healing and righteousness. Here with power. Amen.
(1) Dean Obeidallah. “Where are the Good Christians?” CNN Online. Available online at http://us.cnn.com/2012/06/21/opinion/obeidallah-christians-radicals/index.html?c&page=2