Changing Gods
Jeremiah 2:4-13; Luke 14:1, 7-14

September 2, 2007


Despite its importance in North America, Labour Day is not a holy day of the Christian Church, nor is there any lectionary reading tied to it. It was Martin Luther who first raised the most common of labouring jobs to the status of a vocation on a level equal to the priesthood or monastic life. The lack of an ecclesiastical blessing for this day should not stop us from reflecting upon work as a Christian vocation.

Most Christian reflection begins with Jesus, so it is natural to ask, “When and where do we read of Jesus working?” There should be one of those “pregnant pauses,” for while occasionally Jesus watches others work, such as the fishermen, and talks about others working, such as farmers, nowhere is it ever mentioned Jesus lifting a finger to labour. Sure, he is accused of working by healing people on the Sabbath, the wrong day to work, but Jesus does not labour in the fields, nor did he work as a carpenter as far as the Bible records.

Eyebrows are being lifted as I speak and murmurs of “what is the world coming to?” when it is declared that Jesus did not work?

Jesus and his disciples follow the pattern in the Gospels of a troupe of wandering begging charismatics, very similar to a number of other wandering philosophers during that era. Remember how Jesus instructed his apostles and disciples when they went out into the villages to eat what was set before them and accept the accommodations offered? If they were not received, then shake the dust off one’s sandals and move on without acrimony or desire for vengeance. Resembling the life of a Buddhist monk who intentionally does not own anything, neither home nor money nor even food, he must continually humiliate himself by surviving according to the generosity of strangers and the community. Jesus is often depicted eating at a banquet, but he is always invited to eat, not cook.

Imbedded behind this wandering begging lifestyle is the common idea among early Christians that the ideal perfect life is not found in some vaguely-described heaven, but back in the Garden of Eden before Adam and Eve started eating fruit. There was no sin because we live in loving submission to God, no nudity because in order to be nude you have to be unclothed, and no work since God provides everything we need. Just eat from the appropriate trees.

A number of groups and individuals attempted to recreate or reenter the Garden of Eden by renouncing sexuality and not doing any work or physical labour - both of which were the consequences of Adam and Eve’s disobedience - and of course attempting to lead as sinless and holy a life as possible, praying unceasingly. Frankly, it was always easier to be celibate and unemployed than to be sinless and perfect. Human beings are immensely creative when it comes to sinning around the edges.

So what do you do when you do not work and have to be dependant upon someone else for the food in your stomach and the roof over your head? This is a moment of grace, so naturally you are gracious in receiving what you are given. Beggars can’t be choosers. All of us have been given just about everything we own and are, from parents, our culture, our relationships, from the universe and from God. You and I are beggars being waited upon by beggars. Hospitality, the love of strangers, is the spirit by which we live.

Jesus notices the painfully obvious ways in which hospitality and graciousness have subtly acquired those creative side steps to serve one’s own purpose and greed. People jockeying and elbowing for the best position at the banquet places of honour; invitations tendered only to those people who are like you or to whom you owe a favour or would like to curry favour. This is not unfamiliar for we engage in these kinds of social gymnastics all the time.

Jesus has a different and outrageous strategy - just be humble and consider oneself less than everyone else. Just take the least desirable seat, the farthest away from the host, and you may be surprised that the host will summon you to the front and then won’t you be really honoured? There are angles and strategies even with Jesus. Hospitality is grace embodied in one’s generosity. Invite people who cannot pay you back - the real love of strangers. When you know a guest can pay you back with a dinner or a favour or perk, he or she is not a stranger since you know what they can do for you.

Couldn’t be more obvious, eh, and more difficult? Because it is more comfortable with people like ourselves; it’s the natural human instinct everywhere. It is more obvious every time you change gods.

That sounds like a cheeky modern phrase derived out of commercial ventures. Today you are told incessantly that you have the freedom to change just about everything, from jobs to menus to clothes fashion to clothes washing detergent. And we change churches and some of us even change religions. When these changes are made for reasons that improve your quality of life and enable you to help others more and comprehend more genuinely the purpose for life, then that is good. But much of the time, as Jeremiah proclaims, we are just too busy changing gods.

The word of the Lord came to Jeremiah during the last years before Judah was conquered by Babylonia and its leaders sent off to exile. There were plenty of political and military factors involved, but the prophet knew that something was rotten in the state of Israel as well. When Jeremiah preached the “word of the Lord” it usually was in the first person - God’s first person - for he was a prophet speaking for God. The word recalls how God brought the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt and brought them into a plentiful land, but before very long the people abandoned God, defiled God’s land, despised God’s way of life. “Has a nation changed its gods, even though there are no gods?” God’s people always kept up the front, piled on the liturgies of formal occasions, fattened up their pious sounding language, but actually were sneaking off to the side to worship the pagan deities of Ba’al and wealth and social status pretending that they were still worshipping the One and Only God.

A God worth her salt is the source of all life and goodness, the one who is able to bring about real change in the world. Through Jeremiah it is made clear that all these other gods do not really exist, that is, they have no real power. Jeremiah concludes by noting Israel’s two principal errors. One, they have forsaken God, the fountain of living waters; and two, they have constructed cisterns to hold water for themselves - they have constructed their own gods to hold water. But they are broken cisterns that can hold no water. False gods leak.

The Pharisee who invited Jesus to eat the Sabbath meal had changed gods. He would have been outraged to admit it and he certainly wasn’t happy about Jesus’ table talk that meal. But receiving the heritage that all of humanity is God’s people, he had developed standards of the right kind of people to be allowed into God’s grace. Jesus did not ask him to lower his standards; he invites all of us to have no standards at all. You and I are strangers and beggars most of the time anyway. D. T. Niles defined our Christian task of evangelism, making known the Good News: “Evangelism is one beggar telling another where to find bread.” There is no one who does not belong at our table.

Remember, it’s Labour Day tomorrow. Jesus never worked, so you don’t have to work tomorrow either. Just be hospitable.

Preached by Robert Kitchen
Knox-Metropolitan United Church
Regina, Saskatchewan