August 28, 2022

Priorities are interesting things. Quite often, we don’t even notice our own priorities are off–even startlingly so–but we do notice priority problems in others pretty quickly. We prioritize little things while putting huge issues on the backburner. Or, we ignore something that is a problem and focus on something we enjoy instead. We prioritize the wrong thing. This reminds me of a story I came across the other day about some friends who went hunting.  

A group of friends went deer hunting and paired off in twos for the day. That night one of the hunters returned alone, staggering under an eight-point buck. “Where’s Harry?” he was asked.

“Harry had a stroke of some kind. He’s a couple of miles back up the trail.”

“You left Harry laying there, and carried the deer back?”

“Well,” said the hunter, “I figured no one was going to steal Harry.” 

No one would do such a thing, right? In Isaiah 58, our passage for this morning, God calls the people out on their priority problems. They were fasting, but for all the wrong reasons. They were putting themselves first instead of God, and they prioritized doing whatever would get them ahead instead of what would help other people the most. As I read this passage and studied it, I couldn’t help but think of the Abbott and Costello skit “Who’s on First.” In the skit, Abbott and Costello banter back and forth about the silly names in baseball, and they get twisted up in confusion over the ball players named Who, What, and I Don’t Know. 

We’re not talking baseball this morning and today’s Scripture reading didn’t have any names that would confuse us or trip us up, but Isaiah 58 does beg the question, “Who’s on First?” Are we putting ourselves first, or are we looking first for God and what God wants?

This morning we are continuing our sermon series on the Great Ends of the Church. The so-called “Great Ends” are a list of six convictions or mission statements in the Presbyterian Book of Order. We’ve looked at four of these so far: salvation, discipleship, worship, and faith. Today we are looking at the fifth great end of the church: “the promotion of social righteousness.” As with the other great ends of the church we’ve explored, this one is a mouthful of words that can be hard to get our minds around. What does “the promotion of social righteousness” really mean? I would like to suggest that this great end of the church is the second part of Jesus’ answer to the person who asked which commandment was the greatest. The first was to love God with all that we are–our hearts, souls, minds, and strength. But, Jesus added that a second is like it: to love our neighbors as ourselves. 

The first great end of the church teaches us that salvation through Jesus is what it’s all about–salvation not only for the life to come, but also in the life we’re currently living. The second 

great end reminds us that salvation isn’t the end of the journey, it’s the beginning. We are to learn and grow as disciples of Jesus. The third great end–worship–is all about giving praise and honor to the God who created and called us. And the four great end–faith–reminds us that the faith we hold dear is foolishness and a scandal, but that doesn’t make it any less true. These four great ends are at work in each of us individually and as a church, and the result of our life in Christ should be a life that cares about the people God places into our paths. 

The people Isaiah wrote to had a priority problem. Listen to the way he describes it in verses 3-4: The people said to God, “‘Why do we fast, but you do not see? Why humble ourselves, but you do not notice?’” God responds, “Look, you serve your own interest on your fast day, and oppress all your workers. Look, you fast only to quarrel and to fight and to strike with a wicked fist. Such fasting as you do today will not make your voice heard on high.” The people seemed to think if they followed the rules of religious fasting and if they bowed their heads and looked humble that God would give them whatever they wanted. Fasting and religious observance had become a way for the people to try to get what they wanted rather than a way to learn what God wanted and to be faithful to him.

Earlier this week, I had the opportunity to spend a couple of days on a spiritual retreat with Lutheran pastors from the Nebraska panhandle. They invited me to come as their retreat presenter to share some of what I wrote about in my book The Sacred Pulse. The pastors I got to spend time with were some of the most genuine, compassionate, and hospitable people I’ve ever met, and they showed me what it looks like to care for others, to untie the thong of the yoke, and to release the burden others are carrying.

Early in the morning on the last day we were together, I went to pack my items into my suitcase and found a note. The note invited me to come outside if I wanted to take a walk. Now, many of you may not know that I’m a morning person. Or, maybe you do know that. I love to go to bed early and wake up early and enjoy the quiet moments before the chaotic pace of life begins for the day. But, I’m also a routine-oriented person. When I wake up in the morning, I have rituals I like to follow. I brush my teeth. I start hydrating with a large glass of water. I make my breakfast and take my morning medicine. I saw this note inviting me for a walk sitting on my shoes, and I was conflicted. Do I decide to skip those morning activities and take a walk first? 

I decided that I would rather have the walk and conversation and do my morning routine when I got back, but I had to think about it long and hard first. My traveling companion wanted to show me a place that inspired her, and she promised we would take a shortcut to get there. What she didn’t tell me was that we’d have to hop a barbed wire fence in order to take the shortcut. I had worn jeans, a nice top, and a cardigan. I wasn’t exactly dressed for hopping cow fences. But, she was leading the way and I didn’t want to argue.

We climbed the fence and spoke kindly to the cows we passed. Most of our walk was through dry prairie grass, but the last 100 yard or so was up a rocky hill. I was huffing and puffing as I trudged up this hill. I had to tell my walking partner, “Don’t worry. I’m not dying. I’m just out of shape and a little dehydrated.” But, when we made it to the top of the hill, the view took my breath away. There were wooden benches in a circle on top of the hill, a place for prayer and vesper services when summer camp was in session. There was a large wooden cross and a view so crystal clear it felt like you could see all the way to the edge of the world. 

We paused for a moment and took in the view. We shared with each other about the way God had been working in our lives and our situations, and I felt encouraged by this person who had taken a risk and invited me to take this morning trek with her. On the way back down, we crossed through the cow pasture again. Only this time, there was a very pregnant cow who took offense to our presence. She chased us out of the pasture. I snagged my pants on the fence, and my walking partner scraped up her arms, but we made it. And we had a good laugh about surviving a cow attack first thing in the morning.

On that morning, the whisper of God to take a risk and do something outside of my comfort zone and routine came in the form of a note left on my shoes. But, often the call of God is not so obvious. We may be going throughout our lives and our routines, almost on autopilot, and we miss the person in front of us that God is calling us to love. Or, we see a person and we have to fight not to judge them or make excuses for why it’s ok that we aren’t going to help them this time. Isaiah tells us the truth straight on. He writes, “Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin?”

I think 4th century bishop Basil the Great had this passage from Isaiah in his mind when he said, “The bread in your cupboard belongs to the hungry man; the coat hanging unused in your closet belongs to the man who needs it; the shoes rotting in your closet belong to the man who has no shoes; the money which you put in the bank belongs to the poor.” Ugh. Just @ me already, as the young people say.

“But God,” I’m tempted to say. “Can’t I just come to church and read the Bible and say the right things in Sunday School or Bible Study? Isn’t that enough?” This is where the fifth great end of the church comes in. We need salvation. We need to learn and grow. We need to worship. And we need faith. But, what good is that faith if we hoard it to ourselves and don’t do anything with it? What good is it for us to have all the Sunday School answers or be able to look up a chapter and verse in the Bible without using the table of contents if it doesn’t have an impact on the way we live our lives?”

Right now, today, there are people in our lives who are weighed down under what’s burdening them. There are people who are oppressed and struggling. There are people wondering if they are loveable or if they have been abandoned by God and by other people. The promotion of social righteousness means that we set these beloved children of God free. We love them with the love God showed us. We give them grace because God first gave grace to us. We offer compassion and patience because goodness knows we need a whole lot of that in our own lives, too. 

But all this is impossible to do if we’ve put ourselves on first. If we do the things we do out of selfish motivation. If we only go through the motions of our faith because we think it will bless us in the end. In the letter of James, it says it this way: “What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone claims to have faith but does not have works? Surely that faith cannot save, can it? If a brother or sister is naked and lacks daily food and one of you says to them, “Go in peace; keep warm and eat your fill,” and yet you do not supply their bodily needs, what is the good of that? So faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead.”

And as Jesus says in Matthew 6 after teaching about worry, “But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” Put God’s reign first. Put God’s call first. Put God on first and allow God’s leading to direct our steps. This is not easy. It wasn’t easy in Jesus’ day, and it certainly isn’t easy in today’s “me first” world. But it is our calling. 

Isaiah continues, “If you remove the yoke from among you, the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil, if you offer your food to the hungry and satisfy the needs of the afflicted, then your light shall rise in the darkness and your gloom be like the noonday.” Do you remember the total solar eclipse 5 years ago? What surprised me the most (besides the spectacular sight during totality) was how very little light it takes to light up the world. When the sun was 99% eclipsed, the whole world was still filled with light. Sometimes we don’t reach out with love and compassion because we have ourselves on first. Other times we don’t because we worry that our little efforts won’t make much difference in this world.

Isaiah says that choosing the fast of justice and love, compassion and peace will make light break forth like the dawn. This is the power of Christ in us. Our small acts of faithfulness light up the whole world. Imagine what it will be like when all of us are seeking first God’s kingdom and God’s ways. The future will be so bright, we’ll all need to wear shades. Amen.