Compassion in Action: The Death of Prophesy

The Death of Prophesy Carl W. Kenney II

 

            Let me begin by saying this weeks meditation is not a selfish plug. I'm writing out of a desire to process the sorrow I feel related to the shadows I wrote about on last week. To recap, last week I spoke of the dread that comes with doing our best to let that little light shine when our light appears as the flickering of a flashlight at midnight. Just a little light and a consuming darkness to overcome.

 

            What appears as a plug is this-I'm close to completing my second novel. The title is "Backslide" and it is certain to raise eyebrows for its candor. In it, Simon, the Preacha' Man, starts a new ministry. He does so with a faith and courage that comes with having functioned for years as the whipping boy of a traditionally minded church. Finally, after pondering  the consequences of being free from the political machine we call the Church, he steps away from it all at the end of Preacha' Man. He decides that being a person is more important than being the robot of the Church.

 

            Problem is this thing called a calling. For those not bond to this prevailing force, there is a significant difference between a job and a calling. Those of you privileged enough to function with the freedom that comes with finding a job, holding a job and seeking a new job-enjoy all of that. Those called lack the freedom that comes with taking your credentials to the highest bidder. Callings require sacrifice, and sacrifice comes with pain.

            Years back, I wrote a paper for a seminar at the University of Chicago. The title of the piece is "Prophetic Voice in Public Space". I based the paper on Melissa Harris-Lacewell's book Barbershops, Bibles & BET. Melissa used me as a subject for her research on how the church molds the political ideologies of those who attend. Melissa took my columns (at the time with the Herald-Sun) and sermons (then at the Orange Grove Missionary Baptist Church) and went about t he business of analyzing how much of what I wrote and preached about was believed by those in the church.

            Part of my tussle over the years has been with maintaining integrity as a prophetic voice within the context of community enamored with maintaining a traditional model of faith. What it means to be faith minded has changed over the years. The tradition with traditional churches has been fractured by the influences of the mega-Church movement. The consequence is the minimizing of prophetic voice while accentuating the merits of the individual's quest for prosperity.

 

            An example is an article I read this week from the Baltimore Sun. I felt the zeal of God when I read the account of the First Mount Olive Free Will Baptist Church. They really love their pastor. The good Christians went and purchased Bishop Oscar E. Brown a luxurious custom built Bentley two summers ago. The members of the church yelled "praise Him," as he backed the car, estimated to cost between $130,000 to $150,000, out from the church parking lot. Its not like the good Bishop needed a car-he also owns a Lexus SC430 sports car.

 

            Before you jump down my throat and call me a playa hater, let me finish the story. The church is facing foreclosure for failing to pay a $12,000 water bill.  In addition to failing to pay the water bill the church was notified the property would be auctioned at the end of the month for defaulting on its $1.5 million mortgage. The plot thickens. The church was recently destroyed in a fire days after receiving notification of the auction.

 

            The article in the Baltimore Sun ended with addressing the Empowerment Temple. The church leases its pastor, Jamal-Harrison Bryant, a 2006 Bentley Continental Flying Spur. Churches seemingly aren't disturbed, in fact they seem to enjoy, providing lavish lifestyles to those called to be prophetic.  The Christians in Atlanta have made Creflo "Give Me Some" Dollars and Eddie Long millionaires. It's not uncommon to hear of churches willing to purchase planes to make it easier for the pastor to make those trips to the money making conferences across the country. The prophetic voice of the Church has been cashed in for a more lucrative enterprise-the marketing of Jesus for personal gain.

            Which brings me back to that selfish plug-it doesn't pay being prophetic. The best way to run people away from God is to talk about God. That's crazy, you say. Is it? When's the last time you've seen a movement to bring people together that didn't involve a $100, $50,  $25 line for those willing to make a seed offering to build the work of the kingdom? When is the last time you've heard a person talk about taking that money and placing it into the hands of the homeless, the addicted, the afflicted or rejected? When is the last time you heard someone promote a message of inclusion? No, that's too much like Jesus who welcomed people in rather than finding ways to throw people out!

 

            Where in the gospel did Jesus engage in an act that promoted his need? Imagine Jesus saying, "The Father has shared with me our need to purchase me a Bentley. I need it to prove to the lost that God is a provider. God is using me to show you what can be yours in the kingdom." Can you imagine Jesus saying something like that? If not, why are we suckered into believing it's legitimate for those called to serve Christ?

 

            The answer is simple.  The calling is treated like a job. We are not called to promote our own agenda. We are called to advance the kingdom of God. The kingdom needs servants willing to stand above and beyond the common trend. This is risky business. Being called isn't profitable. People hate watching a called servant. It exposes the truth regarding the hypocrisy of their faith. They desire the easy life. They want leaders to make them feel comfortable about their own decisions.

 

            Simon learns the lesson. They kill prophets. Like they say, nothing under the sun has changed. The only thing that has changed is the Pharisees are driving Bentleys.

Compassion in Action...A Father's Joy by Carl W. Kenney II

Compassion in Action...A Father's Joy by Carl W. Kenney II

 

Two weeks ago, you guys shocked me with an amazing Father's Day gift-certificates to look and smell good. I was so surprised by the offer of love that I grappled with regaining my composure to preach. I even enjoyed the mini roast coming from Elizabeth Moore, Paul Meggett, or Church Mothers-Mama Lottie and Mama Waller.

          

The rest of my day was a reminder of the beauty of fatherhood. Julian, the son of Kathy-my first wife, made me a t-shirt and gave me a big hug after telling me "I love you daddy." On last year I made a commitment to love Julian as my own child. It all started after my mentor, Dr. Jeremiah Wright, scolded me for not being more like Joseph.   After much prayer and countless tears, I sucked it up and decided to be the dad Julian needed.

           

The week that followed pointed me in a different direction. On Tuesday, Quincy Bowens was murdered while shielding his two year-old cousin from bullets coming from a drive by shooter. Two days later I received word of the death of Decarlo Polk. The death of these teenagers forced me to rethink the meaning of fatherhood within the context of the plight facing today's youth.

           

It didn't help that one of the kids I mentor has been forced to enroll in summer school after failing three classes. His academic shortcomings means he will not be promoted to the next grade level until the second semester of the next academic school year. I've been troubled in watching the faces of the young men and women as they walk into class. I can't help but wonder what led to their academic troubles?

           

Is it a consequence of some issue within the family? I've discovered that the general public has a tendency to oversimplify things. People are quick to blame the decline in morals combined with the deterioration of the family for high crime, substance abuse, teenage pregnancy, gang activity and the achievement gap.

           

It is true that raising boys void of a strong male presence is asking for trouble. I have learned that the quandary isn't with hard working moms, but with dads who are too consumed with their own existence to find time to provide a way to support their own children. I'm troubled at how the issue of child support takes attention away from what it means to be a real father.

           

Fathers are present beyond a court ordered support payment. They take time to teach their boys about manhood. It's sad to say that many fathers can't teach their sons about manhood because they haven't become men yet. You can't teach what you don't know. I'm infuriated at how problems between mama and the baby daddy cause chaos in the life of a boy seeking to develop an identity.

           

On Father's Day, I held gifts in my hand. There were those coming from the people of the church. I gazed at them and thanked God for being part of a loving caring congregation. In the other hand I held gifts from my children: King, Lenise and Krista. I sucked up the tears that came in regarding God's grace in helping them grow into becoming the man and women they are today. This despite my many shortcomings. More tears followed. With their gifts was the hand print of a eight year old painted on a T-Shirt made for me. In his eyes I'm his dad. In God's eyes, I'm his dad.

           

There are others I'm called to father. They need my strength-a vigor provided by an external presence poured within me. In my weakness, God does great work in and through me. "I'm called to father the fatherless," I prayed in that moment. "More of you, less of me," I begged God to give.

           

God continues to speak. Be it in the gifts of loved ones or the death of our youth-God speaks. There is more of you to give. Give it! Do it! Be it! Don't just speak about it! Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Amen.

LOVING THE DESPISED

Brenda came to worship from across the street. Across the street was the rehab center at our local hospital. Everyone knew what that meant. Brenda was a recovering crack addict. And she was welcomed. Brenda was also African-American. To many people in the town where I then lived, that matters. “We’d love for you to stay for our fellowship meal,” several people told her. It didn’t matter to them. She stayed. And she came back the next Sunday. And the next. For several months Brenda was an important part of our fellowship in Yadkinville. What in the world was a person like that doing in a small church like ours in a small town like ours? She was there because she had experienced the love of Christ through some of His people; she was there because she had been loved like she had never been loved before.

“After this, Jesus went out and saw a tax collector by the name of Levi sitting at his tax booth. ‘Follow me,’ Jesus said to him, and Levi got up, left everything and followed him. Then Levi held a great banquet for Jesus at his house, and a large crowd of tax collectors and others were eating with them. But the Pharisees and the teachers of the law who belonged to their sect complained to his disciples, ‘Why do you eat and drink with tax collectors and sinners?’ Jesus answered them, ‘It is not the healthy who need a doctor but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance’” (Luke 5:27-32).

What we have here is not only a call to discipleship; it is a redemption story. It is the climax of a string of redemption stories that began back in Luke 4:31-37 with the driving out of an evil spirit. Then followed the healing of Peter’s mother-in-law and many others who were sick and demon-possessed (4:38-44), the cleansing of a man with leprosy (5:12-16), and the healing of a paralytic (5:17-26). Then comes the calling of Levi and the party at his house.

The story of Levi’s calling affirms the redemptive nature of Jesus’ mission. It also informs and instructs us about the nature of our own calling and mission today. Very simply, if we are truly to be the church we claim to be, then we must also be willing to minister to those Jesus ministered to and love the kinds of people Jesus loved. Jesus loved those that the “respectable religious folk” of His day loved to despise. In the calling of Levi we see Jesus doing what Jesus does best: loving the despised. His actions serve as a model for our ministry as the church today. Very simply, in all of our various forms of outreach, we must also be willing to love “sinners” (the despised, the marginalized, the untouchables), those whom polite religionists find hard to love.

Three principles come to light from this story.

First, we must be willing to meet people where they are. We know about the tax collectors of Jesus’ day. They were viewed by their countrymen as traitors because they were in the employ of the infidel Romans. The Romans themselves tolerated the publicans as a necessary evil. Tax collectors typically thought nothing of gouging their own people so that they might line their pockets. They were greedy and crooked.

Did you notice when and where Jesus approached Levi? Jesus approached Levi while he was sitting there at his tax booth, practicing his trade of greed and graft! He approached Levi while he was still mired in his sinful practices. In the modern church we typically look at people like this and think, “Well, that one is probably a lost cause. To try to reach out to him/her would just be a waste of time.” Now, if they show some evidence first of wanting to clean up their act, make themselves more respectable, then we might give them the time of day. Not Jesus. He went to people while they were in the grungiest depths of their sin and initiated the encounter. Jesus was a practitioner of grace, and so we must be!

We must have the eyes to see the despised in their sickness and the compassion to want to do something about it. And they are all around us. They are the addicts, the unethical business people, the crooked lawyers, the immoral, the migrants, the “gay”, and many more. They are the kinds of people Jesus would notice.

Second, we must be willing to participate in table fellowship. We must be willing to show up at the party! The picture of Jesus at a dinner party in the full company of those unscrupulous tax collectors and assorted sinners is a picture of hope for those who experience the estrangement of sin. When criticized for this by the Pharisees and scribes, Jesus’ response was, “I mix with sinners because they have a need and I have the cure.” His motive, as someone else put it, was not to catch the disease, but to heal the patient.

When was the last time you sat down to eat with an “ungodly” sinner? Have you gotten involved with someone’s life? Do you know their story? We today typically think it to be the better part of discretion not to associate with “those kinds of people.” Rather than attempting to initiate an encounter, we walk to the other side of the road to avoid encounters. We tend to disdainfully reject invitations to their parties. And in the doing of these things we clearly align ourselves with the Pharisees and scribes.

Finally, expect to be criticized. In the eyes of the Pharisees, Jesus’ behavior was completely unbecoming that of a supposed holy man. They questioned His judgment and charact4er. They judged Him falsely. When you love sinners the way Jesus did, you can expect to be criticized as well; and sometimes the harshest criticism will come from within the church itself! However, what the Pharisees considered to be a discredit to Jesus, He considered to be His very purpose in life. Sometimes, the criticism of others only affirms the rightness of our ministry.

This story affirms “…how great a God we have! A God who cares about the despised. A God who can touch the hardest heart with forgiveness and transform the most warped personality—that the sinner might become a new man” (You Can Be Transformed, Larry Richards, Victor Books, 1974, p. 42). As the church we are called to a ministry that affirms the greatness and power of God’s love, a ministry that truly loves sinners. They are sick, and we have the cure.

Pastor Dennis: Dennis@CalvinTylerBaldwin.com

YOU ARE TREASURE

We adopted our son, Nelson, when he was two days shy of his tenth birthday. He was a troubled boy who had lived a hard ten years, seeing and experiencing more in those years than any adult should have to in a lifetime. In his previous life he was told things like, “Jesus won’t love you anymore,” if he wouldn’t obey his mother. When he came to us, his notion of God was warped and driven by fear. For months Terre, my wife, would reassure him, “What happened to you wasn’t your fault. God doesn’t hate you. He loves you. He loves you so much!” It seemed, though, that the words might as well have fallen on stony ground.

One Saturday morning Nelson snuggled between us as we prayed together as a family. Burying his head into Terre’s shoulder, he began to cry. At first, it was imperceptible, but once it became noticeable, Terre tenderly asked, “Nelson, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” He whispered something, but that’s all it was, barely a whisper. Not understanding, Terre once more implored, “What’s wrong, son?” Again he whispered, but still we couldn’t tell what had moved our boy to tears. A third time Terre asked, placing her hand comfortingly on Nelson’s head, “Son, tell us what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” Once more he mouthed the words, this time just barely audible, “Because God loves me.” In that precious moment a brilliant light penetrated the darkness, a healing truth spoke to his brokenness, and a child understood something that many of us adults struggle to internalize: that we ourselves are treasure to God. It is a truth that can potentially transform the entire dynamic of our relationship with God.

In Matthew 13:33-46 we find two small kingdom stories that reveal a gargantuan truth. The first story (v. 44) is about a farmer who found a treasure buried in a field. Joyfully, and without hesitation, he sacrificed everything he had in order to possess the field. Obviously the newfound treasure was worth the sacrifice.

The second story is about a pearl merchant in search of beautiful pearls. In the course of his search he encountered the pearl of a lifetime. The merchant, like the farmer, sold everything in order to purchase the pearl. Thus, sacrifice for the sake of the one great treasure is the thread uniting both stories.

The popular interpretation of these stories is that the treasure represents the kingdom of God and men, recognizing the surpassing value, should be willing to make any sacrifice necessary to possess it. I would suggest, however, that there are some problems with the popular view and that there is another way of reading the story.

For one thing, in this collection of kingdom stories, Jesus has already said in the parable of the tares in the field that the field represents the world (v. 38). It’s reasonable to conclude, then, that the field also represents the world in the other parables. If in fact that is the case, then is Jesus saying that we should make any sacrifice necessary to come into possession of the world in which the treasure lies? That would be doubtful.

The other problem with the popular interpretation is that it sees the plowman and the merchant as representing believers, but in the other Matthew 13 parables that contain a central character, that character has been Jesus (the sower in the parables of vv. 3-9 and vv. 24-30). In fact, Jesus clearly identified himself as the chief character in v. 37, “He who sows the good seed is the Son of Man…” In this context, then, it would seem that the character of the plowman and the merchant are actually Jesus, not us.

If this is correct, then Jesus, not the seeker, is the one who finds the treasure and the great pearl, and Jesus is the one who does the purchasing and the possessing. The treasure and the pearl? Here is the surprise of the parable: they are you and me! Rather than being parables of discipleship, they are in reality parables of grace! They are about God’s redemptive purpose in Christ.

It was Jesus who sold all that he had to buy the field and the pearl. It was Jesus who became obedient, even unto death. It was Jesus who became poor so that we might become rich. It was by his precious blood, as a lamb without blemish or spot, that we were redeemed from life in the world. The price paid for the world in sin was the very life of him who was the delight of heaven. And in that mass of lost humanity there would be those (the treasure and the pearl?) who would respond to that costly sacrifice.

In these small parabolic gems Jesus announces our priceless worth in the eyes of the Divine. “You are everything to me! No matter the mess you have made of your lives, I will pay any price to make you mine.” Thus, you and I are central to God’s kingdom purpose.

Why am I crying? Because God loves me.