Sermon for July 14, 2024
Pentecost 8 B
Mark 6:14-29; Amos 7:7-15
Rev. Karl-John N. Stone
Today is Bastille Day—July 14th. It is not just a celebration of French culture, or a 5k race to “Storm the Bastillle” in downtown Milwaukee. It’s France’s national holiday commemorating the end of the “ancien regime”—meaning the end of the absolute rule of kings and nobles; the replacing of the rigid caste system of old Europe with a society that promotes more freedom and equality for everyone.
All of that was not accomplished in one day, of course. It took many years, with much chaos, and many ups and downs. But it is still a day filled with symbolism. On July 14th, 1789 a Parisian crowd stormed the Bastille because it was a fortress that housed prisoners of the French King, Louis the 16th. The people jailed there were political prisoners, victims of political violence, thrown in prison simply because the king said so. They had no way to appeal their sentence, and often were never told the reason for their arrest. When the people of Paris liberated the Bastille, it was a symbolic step towards a new way of life based on “liberty, equality, and fraternity”—meaning that the wealthy and powerful couldn’t just do whatever they wanted anymore, common people would have more rights, and there would be no place for political violence (such as occurred yesterday evening at the Trump rally, by a young man with a gun who took upon himself the mantle of absolute rule who decides who might live or die). If there’s something to learn from Bastille Day, it’s that political violence has no place, no place in settling disagreements or building a free, peaceful, and just society.
The tyranny of absolute rulers still threatens people in the world today—Putin’s Russia or Kim’s North Korea, come to mind—but it also goes back much further than the French Revolution. We hear about it in today’s scripture readings. Amos was an unlikely prophet who lived about 850 BC. He was a farmer from a small village south of Jerusalem, in the kingdom of Judah. The Lord called Amos to travel far from his home, up north to the kingdom of Israel, and to go there and prophecy, where he spoke a message from God to King Jeroboam: Israel would be overthrown if the king and ruling class did not start treating people according to God’s justice and mercy, and stop “oppressing the poor and crushing the needy” with dishonest trade, taxes, and bribery [see Amos 2:6-8; 8:4-6]. Amos used the metaphor of a “plumb line”, and how Israel needed to measure itself by the “plumb line” that the Lord had set in their midst. A plumb line is what a construction worker uses when building a home to make sure the walls are straight and true. If the walls are built crooked they will fall down. Israel was not building itself up by the plumb line, and therefore was on the way to ruin, Amos told the king.
And that is exactly what happed, 30 years after Amos prophesied. Even though God gave King Jeroboam time to start treating the common people according to the ways of God, he didn’t do it. So the Assyrians conquered Israel and sent them into exile, because they had no plumb line—no commitment to seeking the ways of God. They fell, like a crooked wall, under the weight of pursuing wealth and power for the wealthy and powerful at all costs, and of neglecting the well-being of the struggling and suffering all around them.
Almost 900 years after Amos, John the Baptist appeared on the scene, preparing the way for Jesus. John was a prophet in the tradition of Amos, in that he was regarded as lowly by the world’s standards. His lifestyle of living out in the desert, dressing in simple clothing, and eating a simple diet, made clear that he had no part in the tyrannical regimes of kings. He also had no desire to rise to that kind of power. He did, however, wield a very different form of power—his power came from the Word he spoke, a word that pointed to God and away from greed; a word that pointed to faithfulness and away from fear. The word John spoke was like a “plumb line” to measure God’s justice and mercy given in Christ, by serving the poor and vulnerable.
John’s prophecy even reached the ears of King Herod, who was the local tyrant at the time, and who nevertheless found John’s message interesting to listen to. Herod and his wife Herodias, however, were not what you’d call moral people. Herodias had even divorced Herod’s own brother, in order to marry Herod (perhaps to gain access to more power for herself?). Herodias also despised John the Baptist because he had been telling Herod it was wrong for him to marry Herodias. Sounds like a “reality TV” show! Well, when King Herod’s birthday rolled around, he threw a big party to shore up his support among the “big wigs” of the region. During the banquet, Herod exploited his stepdaughter’s sexuality by having her dance for these men, and then even her mother exploited her some more when she told her daughter to ask for the head of John the Baptist. The king felt compelled to follow through on his stepdaughter’s request and execute John—he had to protect his reputation after making reckless promises to give her anything she wanted.
Herod had plenty of power, but no “plumb line”. He did have a big goal he was working on; to complete the work his father had begun, by rebuilding the Temple in Jerusalem—but instead of fulfilling the purpose of the Temple and building up people’s faith in God, he made a mockery of it by his arrogance and shamelessness. To this day Herod is remembered for nothing positive, only for his brutality and immorality.
John the Baptist, on the other hand, had no worldly power, yet in his weakness and lowliness he fulfilled the true purpose of the Temple. John was offering a testimony to God’s faithfulness and justice. To this day, John is remembered for his courage and faithfulness, even when it was hard and the cost steep. John’s message continues to speak to us in our own day: human greed, lies, and hubris may make things look bright and shiny for a while, but sooner or later they all come falling down, like a wall built without a plumb line. And John’s message continues to give us hope, even when times get tough: that the light of Christ shines forever, even in the darkness; and the love of Christ passes from you to others the closer you get to him and the more you depend on him.
Which kingdom would you rather live in? Which one is more life-giving? The “ancien regime” of Herod, based on dishonesty and dealing death to anyone who questioned his power? Or the ways of John the Baptist, based on gaining true life for today and abundant life for eternity by relying on the faithfulness of God?
Herod is long gone; even though there are some in every generation who try to revive his kind of kingdom, where the powerful can do whatever they want no matter who they hurt. John, on the other hand, was executed but his message lives on through our faith; and the kingdom he pointed to is still among us and continues to give mercy, justice, love, and grace for eternity. God’s kingdom keeps coming into the world, because Christ is risen, and his mission to love and save the world is still alive. We find our “plumb line” by looking to the cross of Christ, and listening for where he is calling us to serve him. Amen.