Was it just me or did anyone else feel some incredible discomfort in hearing the lectionary passages this morning? Psalm 52’s “Judgment on the Deceitful,” Amos’s condemning prophecy against those who give little and take much, the weighty responsibility of Colossians 1, the awkwardness of Martha complaining to Jesus in Luke 10?

Sometimes it’s easier to avoid passages like these. I mean we have enough junk to deal with, right? And…that churning in our gut is certainly not the insistence of the Holy Spirit…it’s probably just something we ate. And… the whole point of coming to church is to leave feeling happy, right? 

Welllll…maybe not. United Methodist Bishop William Willimon puts it this way: 

One way you can tell the difference between a true and living God and a dead and fake god is that a false god will never tell you anything that will make you angry and uncomfortable.

Ok so if we believe in the power of the Holy Spirit who raised Jesus from the dead is the same power active and inviting us be raised to new life…if we believe in the living and active word of God…if we desire to live like Jesus and live lives that produce the fruit of the Spirit, then would you be bold enough to enter into the discomfort of these texts with me? 

First there’s this prophecy from Amos 8:1-12. And it hurts. I’d encourage you to read it now from the Message translation.

Does any of that sting a bit? I know it does for me. What if that discomfort is an invitation? What if the Spirit of God through the prophet Amos is inviting you to live differently? 

You’ve probably heard people talking about the “moral decay in America.” Typically when Christians are referring this “moral decay” the attention is focused on family values or gender identity or sexual behavior. But Amos’s prophecy doesn’t address any of these areas of morality. Instead we are being warned about the impending judgment against anyone who abuses economics or mistreats the poor or feels downright comfortable with their place on the totem pole regardless of how their decisions affect those “beneath us.” As Bishop Willimon summarizes, Amos “singles out the merchants who cannot wait for the religious holiday to end so they can get back to fleecing the poor with their high prices for grain.” 

If you call yourself a “Christian” you are choosing to align yourself with the Kingdom of God (and let me just say explicitly that being a citizen of God’s Kingdom NOT equivalent with being a citizen of the United States.) And if we are choosing to align ourselves with God’s Kingdom rather than the ways of our world, it is up to each one of us to help Jesus in building HIS Kingdom. To call yourself a Christian is to commit to SPEAK UP, to not stay silent, when we see someone exploiting their power or creating systems that exalt the rich and trample the poor. It’s up to us to change how we’re living and how we’re spending our money and how we’re using our authority in order to be partners with Jesus in building his Kingdom. 

Ok, but what if you’re not a business owner or a policy maker. If you’re thinking you don’t have authority over someone, you do…whether it’s an actual position of authority, like you’re the store manager or the Board member or the property manager or the pastor or the teacher. Or maybe your authority looks a bit different and it’s because you’re older than “them” or you have more money than “them” or you’re ranked higher in class than them or you have a better job than them or more in your retirement account than them. Yeah, we’ve all got some authority and we have the choice to use it for our own gain or to use it to serve them and love them and advocate for them.

Ask yourself, “Over whom have I exerted my authority in order to get what I want?” “When have I used my position of power to shame someone?” 

Yeah, if we’re honest with ourselves we do this all the time. We exert our power with our kids and our spouses. Yeah. We use our authority as a parent or a grandparent, as an older sibling or a company manager to get away with treating people without an ounce of love or patience or generosity. We shame our kids for feeling big emotions. We shame our spouses for not getting off the couch and doing something. We shame the person using food stamps (maybe not with our words but with our ridiculously judgmental glances and internal monologues about what they’re buying). We shame the person who sleeps in on Sunday, the one who feels uncertain about taking Communion, the one who is too afraid to pray out loud. 

None of this is ok. Shame and power-wielding is not the way of Jesus. 

The way of Jesus is upside down. The way of Jesus is servanthood, not authority. It’s love, not shame. It’s welcoming, not condemning.

Let’s jump back for a minute to Psalm 52, a Psalm that’s actually a long rant as David vents his anger against the tattle-telling of the shepherd of King Saul, a guy name  Doeg (who I’m going to call “Doug”). Doug was bad news. He was using his position of authority to gain even more power in Saul’s Kingdom. David was justifiably angry at this man for how he had murdered 85 priests as well as women and children and animals (in the story of I Samuel 22), and on top of that, Doug tells the vengeful King Saul where to find David to put an end to him. Yeah, I’d be angry too. But the beautiful part of this Psalm is that David is being honest about his anger before God. 

God welcomes us to do the same, to bring our whole selves before him. And in so doing, our attitudes begin to change, to be realigned with the ways of God. By the end of the Psalm, David’s singing has turned from angry groans to something totally different. In verse 8-9 we read: 

But I am like a green olive tree in the house of God. I trust in the steadfast love of God forever and ever. I will thank you forever, because of what you have done. In the presence of the faithful I will proclaim your name, for it is good.

Ok so what does this olive tree have to do with Amos’s prophecy and what does any of this have to do with us? Stick with me here for a minute. Lisa Lamb, Professor at Fuller Theological Seminary, notes how frequently the Psalmist likens his life to that of a tree,“[a tree] that sinks down deep roots as it waits for sunlight and water from the creator and sustainer of life and in the provides fruit that renews and enriches the lives of others.” 

This makes me think of what Jesus says in John 15,

I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing.

So if you desire to follow Jesus, if you call yourself a Christian, ask yourself: What fruit am I producing? Is my life producing the fruit of the Spirit? (Galatians 5:22 “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.”)

Am I bringing love and joy into the world? Is my life characterized peace and patience? Am I living out the kindness of Jesus? Do others experience my generosity? Am I faithful to do what I say I’m going to do? Am I gentle, not needing to force my own way? Do I spend my time and energy with self-control and restraint? 

That’s a lot, I know. But those are the markers of the Holy Spirit. Those are the qualities of a true follower of Jesus. When our life is producing the Fruit of The Spirit we are living like Jesus, we are building His Kingdom here on earth by bringing his healing and wholeness in the form of love, joy, peace, patience, and kindness. 

Now get this: when our life is a strong and healthy tree with roots sunk deep, trusting Jesus in all things, the fruit we produce isn’t just for our own benefit. Our fruit will actually nourish the world. It’s like Paul says in Colossians 1:28 when he says, “It is Christ whom we proclaim…so that we may present everyone mature in Christ.”  Our fruit isn’t for our benefit, but for the benefit of the whole world. 

Here’s how this connects to Amos’s prophecy. Our life’s fruit is intended to bring nourishment to the poor, the hungry, the ones who live lifestyles we disagree with, the one who make wrong choices, the ones who are beneath us in the totem pole of life. The fruit of a life following Jesus isn’t just about your eternal security, knowing where you’re going when you die. The fruit of a life following Jesus is about how we treat others. 

So maybe you’ve got a good retirement and a good education, maybe you’re in the racial majority, you own your own home, you pay our taxes on time and vote on election day. The truth is: all of those status symbols make us the ones in power. So we had better heed Amos’s stern warning, lest there come a time of devastating spiritual famine, when we are desperate to hear a word from the Lord and the voice of the Lord is not to be found.

My friends, what we do with our power is what matters. Our lives are meaningless unless we’re bearing fruit that will last. What fruit are you producing? How are you nourishing others with the fruit of the Spirit? May the fruit of our lives bring healing and wholeness to the people around us because of the love of Jesus within us. 

May God bless us with discomfort at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships, so that we may live deep within our hearts.

May God bless us with anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that we may work for justice, freedom, and peace.

May God bless us with tears to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, hunger, and war, so that we may reach out our hands to comfort them and turn their pain into joy.

And may God bless us with enough foolishness to believe that we can make a difference in this world, so that we can do what others claim cannot be done, to bring justice and kindness to all our children and the poor.

A Franciscan Benediction