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Text of the Sermon: 

Judgment and Hope

“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.

Weary. 

Adjective: “Physically or mentally fatigued.” 

Verb: “[To]exhaust or get tired through overuse or great strain or stress.” 

Who here is weary? I thought so. Jesus is speaking to us today, and to so many.

We’re hot. We’re tired. We’re worried. We’re busy. We’re frustrated. And so many of our neighbors– fellow children of God–are weary and bearing huge burdens–physical, legal, emotional, and financial. In the words of 20th century prophet Fannie Lou Hamer, they’re “sick and tired of being sick and tired.”

And today Jesus looks at us straight from the page and says, “I don’t want you to feel this way. I want better for you. And you. And you.”

This is what prophets say to the weary and the burdened. But that doesn’t mean anyone listens.

Jesus says: “To what will I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the marketplaces and calling to one another, ‘We played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we wailed, and you did not mourn.’”

He says, we call you to joy and you ignore us. We call you to grieve, and more of the same. John fasts and you say he’s crazy. I don’t fast and you call me a drunkard and criticize my choice of friends.

Prophets can’t win, it would seem.

But they persist, and thank God for that, because God knows we could use a lot more of them right now.

The late Walter Brueggeman, Old Testament scholar and author of The Prophetic Imagination, defined a prophet as:

“…someone that tries to articulate the world as though God were really active in the world. And, that means on the one hand, to identify those parts of our world order that are contradictory to God, but on the other hand, it means to talk about the will and purpose that God has for the world that will indeed come to fruition even in circumstances that we can’t imagine. So, what that gives you is both judgement and hope[.]” 

Someone who tries to articulate the world as though God were really active in the world. That’s interesting, because this makes clear that the work of a prophet necessitates confidence that the change they and God seek is possible even when it doesn’t seem possible at all. A prophet speaks and acts in faith that God is present and attentive in the prophet’s work of demanding change from the principalities and powers that seek only their own interest.

In the verses before today’s passage Jesus receives a message from John the Baptizer: “Are you the one who is to come or shall we wait for another?” Jesus quickly responds, “Look around you, what do you see? The lame walk! The lepers are healed! The poor have hope!” 

God is at work!

Confidence. Hope, for the weary and the overburdened. 

And judgment for those who don’t have eyes to see and ears to hear. 

The work of the prophet is to proclaim what is possible, even necessary, for the unfolding of God’s Dream, and also to make clear the consequences of not heeding their warnings. As usual, the Lectionary leaves out a few verses that traditionally make people uncomfortable— what I call “grumpy bits.” Here Jesus calls out the cities that he has visited and who rejected his “deeds of power” and message of the Dream of God.: “Woe to you!”

Woe to those who weary the children of God and lay heavy burdens upon them. Woe to those who don’t see God’s image in the faces of all people. Woe to those who enlarge themselves only by diminishing others. Woe to those who demean difference rather than celebrate it. Woe to those who seek not the common good but exclusively their own benefit.

Like John, and like Jesus, the prophets of our day–of our country in the past 250 years—wouldn’t waste their breath on a something they didn’t care about. They have sought to call the nation to live out the ideals of its founding—of true equality, of opportunity for everyone, not just the privileged few. 

Equality. Opportunity. And refuge. 

This is not specifically found in our official founding documents, but I learned recently about a letter by George Washington, who wrote:

“I had always hoped that this land might become a safe and agreeable asylum to the virtuous and persecuted part of mankind, to whatever nation they might belong.”

This is a huge part of the Founders’ legacy, but more pertinent to our Christian (not Christian Nationalist) context, it reflects the Biblical values of welcoming and caring for the stranger; of seeing everyone, not just those like us, as being made in the image and likeness of God; of living out our belief that we are all one in Christ. 

Of course there is irony in Washington’s letter too, because he apparently neglected to consider the enslaved human beings that he owned to be seen as members of the “virtuous and persecuted part of mankind.”

And this is where the prophets are so vital—those who have held up a mirror to our nation, believing in the ideals of her founding and seeking to make the Union more perfect; and doing so out of love. 

Are there prophets among us? Certainly we can think of modern-day prophets like Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., William Barber, who is carrying on King’s legacy with the Poor People’s Campaign, and Bishop Marian Budde who called out this administration’s lack of mercy to its face. We think of the people of Minneapolis and their struggle against ICE this past winter, and Jim Wallis, who decries the heresy of Christian Nationalism in the face of those who would pervert the Gospel of Jesus into something unrecognizable to followers of the Way of Love.

These are the prophets on the front lines, the ones who fight the fight consciously and intentionally. But I’m starting to wonder if there are other prophets among us who do prophetic work without even realizing it; who proclaim the values we cherish unexpectedly, and in so doing tell the principalities and powers that this country’s foundational values are not going anywhere in spite of the administration’s best efforts to detain, deport, disenfranchise and dehumanize them.

Woe to you!

Who are the unintentional prophets among us? Well, I never thought I would speak of prophets and soccer in the same sentence, but here we are. 

The World Cup, even for those who don’t follow what is called “The Beautiful Game,” has been a delightful surprise. Until a couple of weeks ago the possibility of the US–with its anti-immigrant policies and in the middle of waging war on the country of one of the participants–being a place of hospitality and welcome seemed laughable. People even wondered if anyone would want to come, and for a while ticket prices even sank to almost reasonable levels…

But something happened once teams and fans started arriving. The Algerian team was based in Lawrence, Kansas. The Spanish team in Chattanooga, Tennessee. Norwegians in Greensboro, North Carolina. Cape Verdeans in Tampa, Florida. And of course the Tartan Army in Boston and Providence.  

They started getting to know one another. They exhibited genuine curiosity about each other. They celebrated together. They shared colors, music, cheers, food, traditions. The hospitality has been mutual, and the joyful goodwill has been palpable. Their laughter has relieved some of the weariness.

These unintentional prophets have done something no one expected: They showed us welcome as a prophetic act. They reminded us from sea to shining sea what this country is about. And woe to those who dismiss the truth unfolding before their eyes.

“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.

Jesus wants nothing more than to free us from our weariness and from the burdens that tyrannize us and our fellow children of God. We can be part of that by opening our hearts to unexpected possibilities for truth-telling and resistance, and taking on the yoke of courage, curiosity, and fellowship in the face of those who would saddle us instead with fear and cynicism. There’s at least a little bit of prophet in each of us, and it is waiting to be liberated.