Do Good; Seek Justice

Isaiah 1:12-18; Matthew 25:31-40

          I said goodbye to my Presbyterian friends a couple of weeks ago, when their pastor and I exchanged pulpits for the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity.  Jim Roberts and I started the pulpit swap about 23 years ago, and it continued with their current pastor, Christie Ashton.    We missed two or three years for various reasons, so we’ve been doing this pulpit swap for about twenty years.  I will miss it.

          In all those years, I think this is the first time the theme and worship materials originated in this country.  They have come from all over the world. Last year they came from the Middle East Council of Churches.  This year they come from Christians in Minnesota.  I love the texts they chose and the theme—Do Good; Seek Justice.

          Imagine getting a communication from God, maybe a letter.  Or these days an Instagram message.  Take off your skeptic’s hat for a moment.  There is no question as to the authenticity of the communication.  You know it is from God, but you are surprised and maybe a bit confused by its content.  It says something like this:

Please stay away from Me.  I’m fed up with all your church going.  Your offerings mean nothing.  Your rituals are empty.  I roll my eyes every time you call to me.  You lift your arms in praise, but I do not look.  You pray with fervor, but I do not listen.  Here’s why: your hands are covered in blood.  The blood of Black men who are beaten to death in your streets.  The blood of gay kids who commit suicide.  Of the elderly whose Social Security checks you steal.  Of the prisoners whom you treat abominably.  Of the immigrants who are desperate for a future.  You must learn to do good and seek justice.

          It would be a hard word to hear, wouldn’t it?

          That’s basically the word of God to the ancient people of Israel in our text from Isaiah.  This text is presented as a court of law.  God is the judge, and the people of Israel are the defendants.  God brings charges against them.  Now, they were doing the right things.  They entered God’s courts.  They gave offerings and burned incense. They observed the appropriate festivals.  They lifted their arms in praise and their voices in prayer.  But their hands…their hands were full of blood, God charged.

          It is similar to what God said through Isaiah’s contemporary, the prophet Amos:

                                      I hate, I despise your festivals, and take no delight in your solemn assemblies.

                                      Even though you offer me your burnt offerings and grain offerings, I will not accept them;

                                      and the offerings of well-being of your fatted animals I will not look upon.

                                      Take away from me the noise of your songs.

                                       I will not listen to the melody of your harps.

                                      But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever flowing stream. (5:21-24)

          John Archibald, the Pulitzer Prize winning journalist from Birmingham, said something like that to Alabamians recently in a biting opinion piece on AL.com.  I thoroughly enjoyed having John at Weatherly back in October.  I consider him to be an Alabama prophet, along with Dr. Wayne Flynt from Auburn and a few others.  You may have seen the piece I’m referring to.  It was aptly titled, “Time to Call BS on the ‘Bible Belt.’”  Here’s part of what he said.

I’m not interested in what you believe, Alabama.  I’m just starting to believe that you don’t really believe it as much as you talk about it.

I mean, pretty much any reputable religion abhors the kind of stuff Alabama does on a routine basis.

Buddhists deplore the notion of suffering, and say no one is beyond redemption.  Hindus warn that if you hurt each other or the planet herself you’ll have your own karmic comeuppance.  The Qur’an condemns shameful deeds and injustice, and unequal treatment handed out on the basis of wealth or status.

And Christians and Jews have much to agree on.  A proverb tells them to “Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute.  Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy.”

          Archibald then shined a light on the shameful ways we treat prisoners in Alabama.  The way we put dollars and politics over people.  The landfill in Moody that has been spewing carcinogens into the air for weeks.  The refusal to expand healthcare for the poor.  He ends with these cutting words,

I don’t care who you worship, Alabama….  But it might be time to get right with your Maker.

          No, we don’t like a light to shine on our failures.  We resent people pointing out the inconsistencies between what we profess and what we do.  We don’t like to admit that maybe we’ve grown too comfortable and complacent with a system that favors us.  No, we don’t like it one bit.

          But let us have the honesty and integrity to at least ask this question—Is it possible?  Is there some measure of truth to what he says?  That there is a disconnect between what we claim to believe and how we treat the most vulnerable among us.  Is it possible that politics has taken on such an outsized role in our culture that issues that are fundamentally religious have deemed political instead?  And when they become political, we can dismiss them and find ourselves standing diametrically opposed to our religious beliefs.

          The message of our faith is perfectly clear and simple: Do good; seek justice. 

          Isaiah even identified the ones for whom they were to do good and seek justice.  All who are oppressed, he said, especially orphans and widows.  Do good by them and then give your offerings.  Seek justice for them and then offer your prayers.  Wash the blood from your hands, and then come to church.

          Jesus took this prophetic word and gave it a personal meaning.  When you do good and seek justice for people who are oppressed, he told his disciples, it is as if you have done it unto me. 

          What are you talking about, Lord? 

          When I was hungry, you gave me food.  When I was thirsty, you gave me something to drink.  When I was an immigrant, you welcomed me.  When I was naked, you gave me clothes.  When I was sick, you took care of me.  And when I was in prison, you came to visit me.

          But when, Lord?  When did we see you so needy and care for you? You all know the answer to that question.  When you did it to the least of these, you did it to me.

          Do good; seek justice.  According to Jesus, doing good and seeking justice are not about politics.  They are about our faith, and, according to him, they have eternal consequences.  Maybe our Alabama prophet is right.  It’s time for all of us to get right with our Maker.

Closing Prayer

          Wash the blood from our hands, Lord.  Make us instruments of goodness and justice.  Amen.