The best movie poster I’ve ever seen was for the first Star Wars prequel, The Phantom Menace. It was very simple. You saw this little boy standing against a beige Tatooine desert background. His shadow fell on a wall behind him... and that shadow was in the unmistakable, chilling shape of Vader. That was the most compelling thing about the prequel story. We met this bright, innocent little kid who loved his Mom and was a mechanical whiz… how did he become Vader? How could any little boy become Vader? How did Anakin go so wrong? The next three movies answered that question.
(Never mind that they also left most of us wondering “how did George Lucas go so wrong?”)
Ahem, moving right along... the last Broadway blockbuster before this current one was Wicked. Same thing! This time with the Wicked Witch of the West, whom we knew as a horribly corrupt and evil villain. How did she get that way? I never watched The Sopranos, but it’s often been described as the story of Tony’s descent into hell. Many have said the same thing about Breaking Bad.
Point is, this is a major pop culture theme and there’s a good reason for that. There’s something valuable and wise in considering how people go wrong: how small compromises turn into big ones, how wicked choices can root and solidify until they eventually come to define us.
We only heard a few verses from the Prophet Amos, but I think they can be read as one of these descent stories, distilled into three steps. It starts with a choice about priorities. “When will the new moon be over so that we may sell our grain, and the sabbath, that we may display the wheat?” What’s going on here is that they are impatient with the religious feasts and prayers because it’s interfering with making money. Life is about making money, and religion is a distraction. To put it in modern context, these guys are sitting in church thinking “come on, let’s get this over with so we can get on with what we’re really interested in.”
Now maybe you haven’t ever thought that in such plain words, but I wonder if anyone here is completely innocent of ever letting this kind of attitude sneak in?
They’ve already gone to the wrong end of the choice Jesus points out: you can’t serve both God and money. Their choice is pretty clear. Serving God has become a burden and interruption. Money isn’t the only thing we can put before God, but it’s a pretty darn common one, and that’s probably why the Bible has so much to say about it. Maybe every descent story has to start with a choice like this: a choice that God is not number one.
What happens when they get their priorities so wrong, when they put something ahead of God? They become wicked and deceitful. They start making moral compromises. They fix the scales to cheat, like if you buy a pound of beef but the guy at the store has messed with the scale so he isn’t giving you quite as much as he’s charging you for. This usually starts small, with little compromises that we tell ourselves aren’t a big deal. We all know this moment of talking ourselves into something, rationalizing something that’s clearly wrong. Life brings us these moments of decision, these opportunities for little moral compromises. Maybe you can remember a moment like that. But the compromises don’t stay little. Here’s the problem: if a little compromise doesn’t matter today, then next week a little more won’t matter. And later on, a little more than that. And there you go down perdition street.
Finally, Amos’ story takes us to the endpoint, where wickedness isn’t hiding in little compromises anymore. It’s right out in the open and it’s in total control. “We will buy the lowly for silver, and the poor for a pair of sandals; even the refuse of the wheat we will sell!” Serving something other than God led to little compromises, and little compromises grew into big ones, and now human beings are oppressed and destroyed for profit.
When I was younger I had a picture of Lance Armstrong on my door that I’d cut out of a magazine. Well, there was a guy who decided winning was number one, winning was his god. It started with a little, like usual… just a little edge, just a little boost. And plenty of opportunities to rationalize, especially of the ever-popular “everybody’s doing it” variety. In time, the little simple compromises got very big and very sophisticated. And it ended just where Amos described, with something far worse than cheating and lying: the man was actively destroying the lives of people who were trying to tell the truth.
There’s your pattern. Something else becomes number one instead of God. Little compromises follow, and grow. And then human community is shattered and other people become enemies, threats, obstacles, dispensable, means to an end, objects to be used.
Jesus’ story is a bit of a head-scratcher, but it shows a better way. It’s a story about a guy who’s started to go wrong. He’s been a rotten steward, and the day of reckoning is coming. So what’s his answer? Well, whatever else you can say about his little scheme, he puts relationships ahead of money for once. Money became a tool to help others and make friends, instead of others being used as tools for making money. I don’t think Jesus is holding this guy out to us as a paragon of Christian holiness. But it is a story of a guy who learns to stop worshipping money.
“You can not serve both God and mammon.” I like how we leave that word untranslated, because we all have something we need to put in there. You cannot serve both God and money. You cannot serve both God and winning. You cannot serve both God and the coach who tells you you have to choose between the team and going to church. You cannot serve both God and your own desire to be distracted and entertained all the time. You can’t serve two masters, period.
We all can look forward to the same moment that began the Gospel story, when the master calls in the steward and says it’s time to make an account. Whatever little compromises have been hidden along the way, it’s all coming out. The books are all opened; there’s nowhere to hide the truth anymore. That’s a moment we should be ready for, because it’s coming: the time to give an account of your stewardship.
God isn’t demanding perfection. We aren’t saved because we’re such virtuous people, we’re saved because God loves us and took flesh and died for us. But we still believe that an accounting will be made, and Jesus is pretty clear that we should be prepared for it.
Amos told a story about men who forgot God, served money, and used other people. Jesus told a story about a man who remembered God, served other people, and used money. There’s a fundamental choice at the bottom of our smaller choices: we can love things and use people, or we can love people and use things. If there’s one takeaway this morning, I guess I’d hope that would be it. Watch for that choice, and reject the compromises. Those little compromises can cast a long shadow.
(Never mind that they also left most of us wondering “how did George Lucas go so wrong?”)
Ahem, moving right along... the last Broadway blockbuster before this current one was Wicked. Same thing! This time with the Wicked Witch of the West, whom we knew as a horribly corrupt and evil villain. How did she get that way? I never watched The Sopranos, but it’s often been described as the story of Tony’s descent into hell. Many have said the same thing about Breaking Bad.Point is, this is a major pop culture theme and there’s a good reason for that. There’s something valuable and wise in considering how people go wrong: how small compromises turn into big ones, how wicked choices can root and solidify until they eventually come to define us.
We only heard a few verses from the Prophet Amos, but I think they can be read as one of these descent stories, distilled into three steps. It starts with a choice about priorities. “When will the new moon be over so that we may sell our grain, and the sabbath, that we may display the wheat?” What’s going on here is that they are impatient with the religious feasts and prayers because it’s interfering with making money. Life is about making money, and religion is a distraction. To put it in modern context, these guys are sitting in church thinking “come on, let’s get this over with so we can get on with what we’re really interested in.”
Now maybe you haven’t ever thought that in such plain words, but I wonder if anyone here is completely innocent of ever letting this kind of attitude sneak in?
They’ve already gone to the wrong end of the choice Jesus points out: you can’t serve both God and money. Their choice is pretty clear. Serving God has become a burden and interruption. Money isn’t the only thing we can put before God, but it’s a pretty darn common one, and that’s probably why the Bible has so much to say about it. Maybe every descent story has to start with a choice like this: a choice that God is not number one.
What happens when they get their priorities so wrong, when they put something ahead of God? They become wicked and deceitful. They start making moral compromises. They fix the scales to cheat, like if you buy a pound of beef but the guy at the store has messed with the scale so he isn’t giving you quite as much as he’s charging you for. This usually starts small, with little compromises that we tell ourselves aren’t a big deal. We all know this moment of talking ourselves into something, rationalizing something that’s clearly wrong. Life brings us these moments of decision, these opportunities for little moral compromises. Maybe you can remember a moment like that. But the compromises don’t stay little. Here’s the problem: if a little compromise doesn’t matter today, then next week a little more won’t matter. And later on, a little more than that. And there you go down perdition street.
Finally, Amos’ story takes us to the endpoint, where wickedness isn’t hiding in little compromises anymore. It’s right out in the open and it’s in total control. “We will buy the lowly for silver, and the poor for a pair of sandals; even the refuse of the wheat we will sell!” Serving something other than God led to little compromises, and little compromises grew into big ones, and now human beings are oppressed and destroyed for profit.
When I was younger I had a picture of Lance Armstrong on my door that I’d cut out of a magazine. Well, there was a guy who decided winning was number one, winning was his god. It started with a little, like usual… just a little edge, just a little boost. And plenty of opportunities to rationalize, especially of the ever-popular “everybody’s doing it” variety. In time, the little simple compromises got very big and very sophisticated. And it ended just where Amos described, with something far worse than cheating and lying: the man was actively destroying the lives of people who were trying to tell the truth.
There’s your pattern. Something else becomes number one instead of God. Little compromises follow, and grow. And then human community is shattered and other people become enemies, threats, obstacles, dispensable, means to an end, objects to be used.
Jesus’ story is a bit of a head-scratcher, but it shows a better way. It’s a story about a guy who’s started to go wrong. He’s been a rotten steward, and the day of reckoning is coming. So what’s his answer? Well, whatever else you can say about his little scheme, he puts relationships ahead of money for once. Money became a tool to help others and make friends, instead of others being used as tools for making money. I don’t think Jesus is holding this guy out to us as a paragon of Christian holiness. But it is a story of a guy who learns to stop worshipping money.
“You can not serve both God and mammon.” I like how we leave that word untranslated, because we all have something we need to put in there. You cannot serve both God and money. You cannot serve both God and winning. You cannot serve both God and the coach who tells you you have to choose between the team and going to church. You cannot serve both God and your own desire to be distracted and entertained all the time. You can’t serve two masters, period.
We all can look forward to the same moment that began the Gospel story, when the master calls in the steward and says it’s time to make an account. Whatever little compromises have been hidden along the way, it’s all coming out. The books are all opened; there’s nowhere to hide the truth anymore. That’s a moment we should be ready for, because it’s coming: the time to give an account of your stewardship.
God isn’t demanding perfection. We aren’t saved because we’re such virtuous people, we’re saved because God loves us and took flesh and died for us. But we still believe that an accounting will be made, and Jesus is pretty clear that we should be prepared for it.
Amos told a story about men who forgot God, served money, and used other people. Jesus told a story about a man who remembered God, served other people, and used money. There’s a fundamental choice at the bottom of our smaller choices: we can love things and use people, or we can love people and use things. If there’s one takeaway this morning, I guess I’d hope that would be it. Watch for that choice, and reject the compromises. Those little compromises can cast a long shadow.
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