11/18/19 “It was the best of religion, it was the worst of religion” by Nancy Petty
Isaiah 65:17-25
2 Thessalonians 3:6-13
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only. -A Tale of Two Cities, Charles Dickens
This recognizable quote from Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities, offers a
contemporary framework for the two texts before us this morning. First we
hear the words of the prophet Isaiah, “For I am about to create new heavens and a new earth; the former things shall not be remembered or come to mind…no more shall there be an infant that lives but a few days, or an old person who does not live out a lifetime…They shall build houses and inhabit them, they shall plant vineyards and eat their fruit. They shall not build and another inhabit, they shall not plant and another eat…the wolf and the lamb shall feed together…” It was the best of times!
And then our attention is turned to that famous missionary/preacher Paul who writes, “For you yourselves know how you ought to imitate us; we were not idle when we were with you, and we did not eat anyone’s bread without paying for it; but with toil and labor we worked night and day, so that we might not burden any of you…Anyone unwilling to work should not eat. For we hear that some of you are living in idleness, mere busybodies, not doing any work. Now such persons we command and exhort in the Lord Jesus Christ to do their work quietly and to earn their own living.” It was the worst of times!
The prophet and the preacher present to us a tale of two societies, a tale that is still being written in our times. And the question before us as we ponder these two tales of the way things should be is, will our tale reflect that of Isaiah or that of Paul.
First let me set the context for Dickens tale and the quote that I began with Charles Dickens was born in Portsmouth, England in 1812. As the second of eight children in a very poor family, he lived a difficult childhood. Eventually, his father was sent to debtor’s prison, and Dickens himself went to work at thenage of twelve to help pay off the family’s debt. This troublesome time scarred Dickens deeply… Steeped in social criticism, his writing provides a keen, sympathetic chronicle of the plight of the urban poor in nineteenth-century England.
The Industrial Revolution, which swept through Europe in the late eighteenth century, originated in England. The rapid modernization of the English economy involved a shift from rural handicraft to large-scale factory labor. Technological innovations facilitated unprecedented heights of manufacture and trade, and England left behind its localized, cottage-industry economy to become a centralized, hyper-capitalist juggernaut of mass production. In tandem with this transformation came a significant shift in the nation’s demographics. English cities swelled as a growing and impoverished working class flocked to them in search of work. As this influx of workers into urban centers continued, the bourgeoisie [booze-wa-g] took advantage of the surplus of labor by keeping wages low. The poor thus remained poor, and often lived cramped in squalor. In many of his novels, Dickens chronicles his protagonists’ attempts to fight their way out of such poverty and despair. 1
That was Dickens context for writing about the best of times and the worst of times. But what about the context in which the prophet speaks? And that of Paul? Isaiah speaks his words to a people who have been traumatized by exile, lived for years under the terror of invasion, devastated by the loss of a place of belonging, dislocated as an entire people by type of re-gentrification. They have witnessed the destruction of their temple and experienced the loss of any hope for a life filled with peace and abundance. They had lived for far too long under the shadow of the empires—enslaved, oppressed and hounded by the privileged and the powerful—merely struggling on the brink of extinction. The people to whom Isaiah would be speaking today are the huddles masses living in deplorable shacks on the edges of the cucumber and sweet potatoes fields in Eastern NC; the families in Flint, Michigan drinking tainted water that spills from the faucets in their kitchens; the 27 million Americans living without healthcare, most of whom are working Americans; and the 4,131 Wake County school students who experienced homelessness last school year, a number that has no doubt increased this school year. He is speaking to those families who had lived in their homes in southeast Raleigh, passed down by generations, but no longer able to pay the city taxes had to sell to real estate investors who traded family memories for million dollar designer homes and apartments that the citizens who make this city run day in and day out will never be able to afford to live in.
It is such a context that Isaiah delivers the words about new heavens and a new earth, about peace and justice that will be the new reality, no longer violence and fear and scarcity. No more weeping or cries of distress, no more preventable early deaths for the young or old. Homes will be built and afforded and inhabited by those who have the skill to build them not just by those who make a six-figure income. Vineyards will be planted and their fruit enjoyed by the immigrants whose sweat labor actually works the fields and harvest the crops and not just by those who can get in their SUV or Prius and go to the extravagant new grocery store and buy those little cucumbers and cubed sweet potatoes and bacon and pork chops all packaged in fancy containers that fill our landfills. And look, the good Lord knows I’m not trying to make us feel bad or put us on some guilt trip. Cause that good Lord knows I drive an SUV and I was at opening day of the new Wegmans mecca grocery store. I’m just trying to hold myself, and my community accountable.
The idyllic picture that unfolds in Isaiah 65, a tale of new heavens and a new earth, constitutes one of the most beautiful oracles in all of scripture; it is a tale of what the best of times can be like. And then, and then we come to Paul and his disturbing letter to the Thessalonians. It’s tempting when reading Paul’s words to simply respond, “bless his heart” and just leave it at that. But Paul, a brother in the faith without whose struggles we would have fewer questions to ask of our faith, deserves more than a “bless his heart.”
Paul’s context is that he is struggling to hold together the remnant of those earlier followers of Jesus—those who would carry forward the revolutionary teachings of the refugee from Nazareth. And while it seems that Paul is warning the Thessalonians about idleness, it is difficult to know exactly the issue that caused Paul to sound this warning. What we do know is that “in scripture, the question of how we justly distribute food and other resources within our communities lies on a continuum, with this statement from Paul on one end: ‘Anyone unwilling to work should not eat,’ and a statement from Jesus on the other end, ‘Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you. Or, from the Hebrew scriptures, in Deuteronomy, ‘Since there will never cease to be some in need on the earth, I therefore command you, ‘Open your hand to the poor and needy neighbor in your land.’” 2 I don’t know about you but I believe I’ll err on the side of Jesus.
Theologian Fred Crouch writes: “Each of these three statements at either end of the continuum immediately evokes objections and questions. To Paul: what if someone is willing to work but unable to find a job? How can we justly describe what “unable to find a job” means? Or, if someone is able to work, but has lots of money, and, therefore, is unwilling to work … should that person eat, or do we make an exception for them? Or, is there an age limit for being willing to work — too young or too old? Does simply being of “retirement age” excuse someone from being willing to work? Is there an ability consideration — either physical or cognitive? To Jesus: Give to “everyone” who asks? Everyone? Paul said I don’t have to give to lazy people; what about that? Or, what if they’re a con man, a drug addict, an abuser, etc.? To Deuteronomy: Okay, open my hand to a needy neighbor?Then tell me, who is my neighbor?”
Crouch continues by asking, “What problem is Paul solving that causes him to slant his words so thoroughly to one end of the giving spectrum? Despite the common assumption that he addresses poor people taking advantage of others’ generosity, the letter does not say that the problematic people are poor, just that they are “idle” and “busybodies.” Although this could be a group of poor people who are also lazy, Paul does not identify them by economic status. He could also be referring to a group of the idle rich, with resources for doing good, but who spend their time meddling, throwing their weight around because they can. Or, he could be referring to formerly wealthy people who gave away resources to the community, but now are “coasting” on that gift, ordering others around while expecting now to be supported by resources that they still consider, in a way, their own.” Crouch concludes: “Regardless what behavior existed that Paul described as “unwilling to work,” he is concerned about its impact on the community and its ministry.”
Maybe, but it seems to me that Paul’s words, in any context, are inexcusable. Whatever point he was trying to make, whatever lesson he was hoping to teach, denying someone, anyone of food—a basic human need for survival—is immoral, and for Christians, distorts the core teaching of Jesus to feed the hungry and care of the poor. It is precisely biblical texts like this that people, Christians, have used to link work requirements to health care, food, and other basic human rights. Here in our state, lawmakers are still pushing Medicaid work requirements. The working poor, often working two jobs at minimum wage while their families still go hungry and are denied medical care are spiritually abused by texts like this one from 2 Thessalonians. The mentally ill, who are pushed out of their families, shunned by “good society,’ who sleep in shelters and under bridges are spiritually abused by texts like this. The migrant family, fleeing war or famine or poverty like we can’t even imagine, who works completely at our discretion because they have no rights is spiritually abused by texts like this, and so are there small children who have done nothing but be born. It was and is the worst of our religion. To use the Christian scriptures to deny anyone food, working or non-working, is just wrong.
This week, as I lived with these two texts I realized that we have a choice when it comes to reading our sacred texts. We can focus on how our scriptures teach us to lift one another up or we can use our sacred words to tear one another down. We can try and live into the idyllic vision of the prophet or we can fall prey to one of the biblical writers not so good moments. We can tell a tale that inspires the best of times and the best of our religions. Or we can tell a tale that encourages the worst of times and the worst of our religion. And every day we make the choice of which tale we will tell. In these times we are living, it takes intentionality to avoid the kind of thinking that says some deserve to eat and others don’t. Some deserve health care and others don’t. Some deserve housing and others don’t. Some deserve to marry and others don’t. Some deserve to live as they understand their gender identity and others don’t. Some deserve quality education and others don’t. Some deserve to be safe and others don’t. Some deserve justice and others don’t. And likewise, it takes commitment and compassion, heart and soul, love and grace, marching and resisting anddaily intentionality to live Isaiah’s dream. To believe and risk it all so that everyone—every single human being—can have enough food, live a healthy life, afford safe housing, earn a living wage and equal pay, have access to and receive a quality education, and have an opportunity to contribute to the common good while living in peace.
These are the best of times, these are the worst of times. In these, our times, the words of the writer of 2 Thessalonians seem to express the worst of what religion has to offer. And yet, in these, our times, the prophet Isaiah paints us a picture of the best of what religion has to offer. They tell a tale of two options for how to dream and care for and love one another. Please God, give us both the wisdom and courage to help create Isaiah’s vision of new heavens and a new earth for all God’s people. For still, it is the best of times, it is the worst of times, it is the age of wisdom, it is the age of foolishness, it is the epoch of belief, it is the epoch of incredulity, it is the season of Light, it is the season of Darkness, it is the spring of hope, it is the winter of despair, we have everything before us, we have nothing before us…
These texts ask us: What kind of new earth are we helping God create?
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1 Sparknotes.com, A Tale of Two Cities Context
2 Crouch, Fred. Commentary on 2 Thessalonians, workingpreacher.com
