Sixth Sunday after Pentecost 2006

Speaking Index

Delivered 15 July 2006, the Saturday service based on the readings for the Sixth Sunday after Pentecost.

Good evening! Here we are. The sun is shining, but we're not on our decks listening to our steaks sizzle, sipping a cool beer or a tall gin and tonic. We're here. In front of us is the stylized representation of a most brutal instrument of death. Right next to me is a stylized representation of a muddy river in a distant troubled land. But here we are, we welcome you, God welcomes you. It is good that we are here.

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Grace and peace to you from God our Father, and from his son Jesus the Christ, and from the Holy Spirit. Amen

It is often said of a rich person that he was "born with a silver spoon in his mouth." Back in my misspent youth the Who had a song in which the singer admitted to being born with a plastic spoon in his mouth. Not me! I was born with my foot in my mouth, and have only taken it out since to change socks.

I suspect that each of us identifies with characters in the Bible, either those we think we resemble or those we wish we did. For me it's been a case that there are some that I do resemble, and the two that come to mind most clearly are Peter and Amos, and to a lesser degree, John. These are known for speaking truth to power, saying things that won't be well received, being intolerably rude. I can't say that I've never kept my opinions to myself when uttering them could offend someone who had some power over me, but Larkin can attest that whatever sensibility most folks are born with that limits such outbursts simply isn't present in my case.

The Quakers elevate this concept of Speaking Truth to Power as one of the most important callings. It isn't that being rude is a virtue, but proceeding to tell what is good and right and just in a world that doesn't want to hear it is a great thing. It's also a scary thing, a dangerous thing.

In our old testament reading we visit a time when the two kingdoms, Israel and Judah, which Saul had united and David ruled over, were once again separate. Amos was from the south, Judah, but was prophesying in the north. It was also a time of corruption in the religious order, the priests were supporting the political structure of the day and getting rich, and Amos was saying that the whole mess was an affront to Yaweh.

Amos holds out a plumb line, the tool that a builder uses to be sure that a wall is upright, without which a building will not stand against the test of weather and time. Amos says Yaweh is bringing a plumb line to measure the people of Israel against, and it's clear that both Amos and Amaziah know how well that's going to work. Amaziah commands Amos to return to Judah, to make his money there.

But Amos replies that "I am no prophet, nor a prophet's son; but I am a herdsman, and a dresser of sycamore trees, and the Lord took me from following the flock, and the Lord said to me, 'Go prophesy to my people in Israel'." This is often cited to suggest that Amos was an unwilling prophet. I truth, he may have been no more eager to take up the job than Aaron or Noah had been, but that's not the point in this context. He's telling Amaziah, "Look. I'm not in this for the money. I'm not corrupt like you. I've got land and sheep and trees. I'm not trying to cut into your gravy train, I'm doing this because God told me to."

Amos didn't get rich by speaking truth to power. Amaziah or Jeraboam could well have had him thrown in prison or killed. It's easy to get your way when you're rich and powerful, you don't even have to order the job done. The most famous example was England's Henry II getting rid of Thomas Beckett. In the words of Shakespeare, Henry simply wondered aloud "Who will rid me of this meddlesome priest" and seven of his loyal barons soon left Beckett laying in a pool of blood on the chapel floor. Nothing like that happened to Amos, but you can bet his fortunes would have grown more had he stayed in Judah and attended to his work rather than leaving them behind to go irritate the powerful in Israel.

Speaking truth to power. It's risky, it's not particularly rewarding, but God calls us to do it.

In the Gospel lesson we have another conflict over speaking truth to power. The reading as selected in the lectionary is basically a flashback. Word of Jesus and his preaching, certainly of his miracles, is circulating. It's being talked about at all levels, including in Herod's palace. Herod thinks this new teacher must be John the Baptist reincarnated, presumably because he feels such guilt over killing John, so Mark jumps back to relate the events around John's death.

John was speaking truth to power. Herod was the Tetrarch, sort of a sub-king, serving at the pleasure of Rome and probably always aware of how tenuous his grip on the land was. Not a good person to speak truth to.

Why was his grip tenuous? Those of you who've heard me preach before were probably already expecting a history lesson, I can't send you home disappointed!

We all know the name of Herod, first from the story of Our Lord's birth. That was Herod the Great, the one who sent for the magi and then ordered the slaughter of the male children around Bethlehem in an effort to kill Jesus. Herod had a raft of wives, and he had sons from at least several of them. At the time Jesus was born, at least three of Herod's sons were in school at Rome. Why send your sons to Rome for eduction? That wasn't Herod's choice, they were hostages to the emperor to make sure Herod behaved.

Of Herod's sons, three enter this story, Aristobulus, Herod Philip, and Harod Antipas. All sons of Herod, by three mothers. Aristobulus had a daughter, and as this clan seemed to like their name, he called her Herodias. Time passed, and Herodias married Herod Philip. When Herod the Great died in 4 BC, his will divided his kingdom in four parts, and Herod Philip and Herod Antipas each ended up in charge of one part. While each had the authority of a king within his part, they were called Tetrarchs to indicate that each was only in charge of a quarter of what their father had ruled over.

Okay, so Herod Philip and Herod Antipas are both kings, but the whole thing is controlled from Rome. Rome calls, Herod Antipas makes the journey to Rome to check in with his bosses, and stops at his half-brother's palace on the way. He's on the road, his feet are dusty, he wants a meal, a bath, a bed, and, as an afterthought, falls in love with his brother's wife, Herodias, who also happens to be his niece.

Herodias is one of the clan. She is a granddaughter of Herod, steeped in palace intrigue and filled with lust for power herself. Apparently she likes the look of young Herod Antipas, and packs up her household and heads for Galilee where she marries herself another tetrarch. So here we have an incestuous, adulterous, and bigamous marriage. (Did I mention that she never divorced Herod Philip?) And as all the players are rather prominent people, everybody knows about it. Including John the Baptist, who doesn't know when to shutup. When Herodias setup housekeeping with Herod Antipas, she brought along her daughter, named here as Herodias but better known as Salome. We have that name from the Jewish historian Josephus, who relates pretty much the same story.

John's proclamation that Herod is living in sin is troubling to Herod. He's not well liked by the people, and he walks a thin line to keep the population under control and to satisfy his Roman masters. The position of Herodias is even more tenuous, she only claims power and wealth through her hold over Herod, so anything that threatens Herod threatens her, and anything that might convince Herod to renounce his marriage threatens her doubly.

So Herod slaps John in prison. The text suggests that he did this, at least partially, to protect John from Herodias. Apparently Herod would send for John and talk to him. He recognized John as a righteous and holy person. One can imagine that Herod could speak his mind to John and be answered in a way that no other person would talk to him. John was fearless, and Herod certainly had no need to fear John. John had no influence in Rome and could hardly influence Herod's career. If Herod spoke to any of his equals he would have been constantly on guard lest the others take advantage of him.

Then comes the dinner, Herod's birthday dinner. Good food and drink, all the powerful families and leaders are there. Salome dances, dazzling her uncle the king. He drunkenly blurts out that he'll give her anything she wants, right up to half the whole kingdom. Salome apparently isn't too bright. If she had been, she would have promptly named some wonderful piece of real estate and the hand of one of Herod's most dashing officers. But no, she slips off to consult with her scheming mother, who wants John's head and asks Salome to get it for her. Thus ended the life of John the Baptist. In Josephus' version of the story, he calls him John the Dipper.

Did Herod and Herodias live happily ever after as a result of so violently silencing one who dared to speak the truth? Not hardly. Herod was exiled by Caligula in the year 39, six or seven years after that birthday dinner, and died in France.

Herod almost was on the right track there for a while. John's word interested him and he valued it. But a drunken slip, particularly one he couldn't get out of as all his important friends were there to hear him make the foolish pledge, brought him to another path. Not that excessive drinking and peer pressure have ever led anyone else astray, of course!

Do you have a choice in what you speak? Is there meaning in these two stories that affect your lives? None of us here is that rich corrupt temple official Amaziah. I don't think anyone here is the comfortable landholder Amos, sent to a neighboring land to spread an unwelcome word. None of us is a king, or even a tetrarch, or a tetrach's wife, or a beautiful niece of a tetrarch. I don't think any of us has been in prison for our public statements. But the words of scripture are not only for the few whose stories will make the news, for all of us are in this world and all of us have the power of speech.

We read the Torah, the story of the ancient Israelites. We read of the lives of the prophets, as Amos is numbered among the twelve minor prophets by some, while others call him the first of the major prophets. We read the Gospels, the New Testament stories of how those twenty centuries ago lived with the disturbing and promising word of Jesus. And we have to see what goes on around us.

The word of God calls for righteousness, for healing, for truth, for justice. Not just in stories of a distant time and place, but for all the children of God in our time, in the places we live, in the places that we touch. For some this means railing against traditional food distribution and creating a system of fair-trade coffee. For others it means running for office. For some it means joining the military in hopes that injustice in other lands might end. For some it means going into mission in Africa or China or the slums of New York. I note that last because Mother Cabrini, the first American to become a Saint, was born on this day in 1850, and started her ministry among the Italian immigrants in that city.

The word of God is not an easy thing to carry. It's not even an easy thing to discern. But when we have it in our hearts, we cannot be silent. And we cannot take the path that will cause the least upset, for the word of God is a very upsetting thing indeed. We look at these stories and know that Amos paid some price for speaking truth to power, and it was probably scary when he did. We know that John paid for speaking truth to power by giving up his head for a foolish girl, her wicked mother, and her besotted uncle. We've seen Martin Luther King, Jr fall to a sniper's bullet here, Oscar Romero in El Salvador while many who pay no attention to God's word or will thrive and get lots of time on television.

But God's word was with Amos, it was with John, and that is the path that we are called to follow. Our impact may be small, it may be large. The price we pay may be trivial, or it may be our heads. But it is our path. Mine. Yours. Ours. To listen to God's word and his Holy Spirit that we might know the truth, and that we will take it into our hearts and minds, and that we, like Amos and John and countless saints before us, speak truth to power.

And this is what we call Good News. This is the Gospel of the Lord. Amen.