Do the Right Thing -- A Lectionary Reflection
Judges
4:1-7
1
Thessalonians 5:1-11
Matthew
25:14-30
Do
the Right Thing
As
we near the end of the liturgical calendar the texts are taking on a more
“judgmental” tone, or at least they mention judgment as a possibility for our
consideration. These are not always
comfortable texts, especially when the finger begins to point back at us. It’s okay, it seems, when the finger points
elsewhere, but we’d rather it not point at us.
Before
us are three texts that speak of doing the right thing. In Judges 4 we see a word of judgment on
Israel, which “did evil in the Lord’s sight.”
But all is not lost, for despite the challenges of the enemy who has
acted as an arm of divine judgment, there is one who rises to the occasion –
Deborah – who will deliver the people.
In Paul’s first letter to the Thessalonians, we hear a call to live
soberly in anticipation of the Day of Judgment, while Jesus tells a parable
about making good use of the gifts of God – in anticipation of the Day of
Judgment. In each case there is an
invitation to look at one’s life and discern whether one is doing the right
thing.
The
lectionary has taken us from the Genesis stories of the patriarchs to the story
of Moses and the Exodus and then on to the entrance into the Promised Land
under Joshua. Now, we come to the time
of inhabitation. They people now have
their homeland, but here in the fourth chapter of Judges we hear a word of
judgment on the people: “Again Israel did evil in the Lord’s
sight.” This will be a constant refrain
in the ongoing story of Israel. The
times in which they do right alternate with the days in which they do evil in
the Lord’s sight. In the days of the
monarchy, so the story goes, there will be the Hezekiahs and the Josiahs, but
there will also be the Ahabs and the Manasseh’s. Even David, who starts off as one close to
God, ends up living a rather indecent life.
Too often they don’t do the right thing, which is a good reminder that
when left to our own devices we often choose unwisely.
In Judges 4, with this
indictment that the people did evil comes a sentence of judgment. In this case, Israel is “sold” into the hands
of the Canaanite King Jabin, whose army is led by Sisera. For twenty years the Israelites are subjected
to their cruel rule, enforced by Sisera’s nine hundred iron chariots. It’s a bit like saying, the modern equivalent
of 900 armored up, M-1 Abrams tanks.
This is a pretty invincible force. There is little hope of deliverance. The Promised Land has begun to look a lot less
promising. But all is not lost, for there are those who do what is right, and
one of those figures is, Deborah, a prophet and judge over Israel. She would sit under a palm tree in the hills between
Ramah and Bethel, and the people would come seeking her wisdom. In this position of leader of the remnant of
Israel, she calls for Barak of Kadesh, and empowers him to call up an army of
10,000 soldiers from the tribes of Naphtali and Zebulun and take up a position
on Mount Tabor. From there, she promises
that Sisera and his chariot led army will be drawn into battle at Wadi Kishon,
and there Yahweh will deliver the enemy into Barak’s hands. Reading forward, you see that Barak did as he
was commanded, and the enemy was defeated – though it would take another woman
of strength and courage to end the life of Sisera. What is interesting here, as we read on past
the demarcation of the lectionary passage, it is Yahweh who defeats the
enemy. God is on their side. What do we take from this? For those of us who seek to avoid violence,
this passage can be difficult to deal with.
On the other hand, it lifts up a woman of great strength, reminding us
that while the ancient world was patriarchal in orientation, there are these
important reminders that women played important roles. They could take leadership, and thus in our
own more “enlightened age” we should be willing to recognize their gifts more
fully. There is also a contrast here
between those who did evil and those who, like Deborah, remain faithful, and do
the right thing.
In
1 Thessalonians, perhaps one of Paul’s earliest letters, Paul deals with
questions of the “eschaton,” the future return of Christ and with this the Day
of Judgment. You can see in this letter
Paul’s readiness for this age to end, while trying to keep his churches focused
on their place in this time and space.
He doesn’t want them to rest on their laurels and cruise into the end of
the season, because even if he believes that the end might come soon, he also
knows that no one knows when the Day of the Lord will come. Indeed, the Lord might come as a “thief in
the night.” That is, the Lord will
likely come when we least expect it, so we need to be ready and alert. When things seem calm and secure, that is
when the time of judgment likely will come.
It’s a message that many have failed to heed down through the centuries. We can get complacent, and that’s not
wise. But, as Paul tells the
Thessalonians – you don’t live in the darkness of night, when the thief is
prowling about. No, you live in the
light of day. You are children of light
and children of the day. As such, you
should not be falling asleep, but instead, you ought to be awake and
sober. Sleep and drunkenness, they are
products of the night, but living in the day we should be sober. In support of this call to sober living, Paul
brings into play what we often refer to as the “armor of God.” It’s not as expansive as in Ephesians, but
it’s there – a breastplate of faith and love and a helmet of hope of
salvation. There isn’t a sword as in
Ephesians, but the defensive armor is seen here as a sign of protection as the
Thessalonians seek to remain true to their faith. That’s because, Paul says, they’re not
destined for wrath but salvation through Jesus Christ, who “died for us, so
that whether we are awake or asleep we may live in him.” The point being? Perhaps this is a reminder that ultimately
our faithfulness is rooted in God’s faithfulness. Even as God stands in the gap with Deborah,
so God does the same now with the Thessalonians. Do the right thing, yes, but remember that
you may do so because you stand in relationship with God. So encourage each other and build each other
up with this word of assurance.
Finally
we come to the Parable of the Talents, a parable that comes right before the
famous Matthean judgment scene where God judges between sheep and goats. That theme of judgment is here also. It’s a well known parable and one that falls
right in the middle of many a stewardship campaign (as is true for my congregation). We can and do speak of investment of money
and time and ability. But, I stand
somewhat “convicted,” but comments made by Stanley Hauerwas in his commentary
on Matthew. Hauerwas declares that too
often we misuse this text – in part for stewardship sermons – because it’s used
to justify economic principles foreign to the message and purpose of
Jesus. He writes:
Jesus is not using this parable to recommend that we work hard, make all we can, to give all we can. Rather, the parable is a clear judgment on those who think they deserve what they have earned, as well as those who do not know how precious is the gift they have been given. [Matthew (Brazos Theological Commentary on the Bible), p. 210].
What Hauerwas reminds us of is that the original
talents (contextually a talent is worth about fifteen years of wages for the
common worker) aren’t something we’ve earned or deserved. They are gifts – charisms or graces. We have
responsibility for their usage, and in God’s wisdom, we’re given what we can
handle.
The focus of the
parable is on the decision of the third servant, who chose to bury the talent
lest the master judge him harshly for losing it, because he embraces a
principle of scarcity. He believes that
life is a zero-sum game, where there’s only so much to go around. If one has honor then the other will be left
with nothing. Since he didn’t have much
to start with he’s not going to go to any trouble putting it to use. How often do we look at life in this way – if
you have something then that must have been gained at my expense? If we live our lives by this principle, how
will it affect the way we look at each other?
Remember that immediately following this passage is the teaching on the Day
of Judgment, where the king divides the sheep from the goats on the basis of
how they treated the “least of these.”
So, since we’ve been blessed with abundance, may we live out of that
abundance. That would seem to be what it
means to do the right thing.
So, especially in light
of the judgment scene to follow, it would be wise for us not to take the
sentence that suggests that “to those who have, more will be given, and they
will have an abundance, but those who have nothing, even what they have will be
taken away” in a way that would encourage the infamous 1% to pad their bank
accounts at the expense of the bottom 50% of society. To do so would be to encourage them to
embrace the principle of scarcity rather than abundance, and that is not in
tune with ways of God’s realm.
So, if we take this
parable together with Paul’s admonition in 1 Thessalonians 5 about staying
awake and being sober, might we understand this parable is offered in answer to
the question: How do we live lives of
justice and mercy and love in anticipation of the Day of Judgment? How might we risk that which has been given us
by grace, so that good may come to our world?
Yes, how shall we spend our
time? Do we sit on the gifts of God
because we don’t trust God to treat us fairly?
Or do go out in into the world and let these gifts of God make an impact
on the world that God loves? Is this
what it means to do the right thing?
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