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January 27, 2008: WHY
IT MATTERS
Reading Isaiah: although this is familiar as a Christmas reading, it is also used during the Epiphany season (now) because of its associate with “light.” What God is angry with Israel about is their continuing consultation with dead superstitions, rather than their Living God. Reading Matthew: this draws on the Isaiah reading as prophetic fulfillment,
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Had I been Matthew’s freshman English teacher, I would have urged a lighter hand on the fulfillment theme. Besides stretching the meaning of Isaiah’s prophecy, the way Matthew inserts it into the text interrupts the flow of narrative. But it’s his gospel, and the lectionary committee at least gave us the parallel. Forget for a moment that Jesus is the Light of the World—that’s another gospel. When Isaiah speaks of “the people who walked in darkness,” he alludes to rescue by a light which is more than illumination. This is light as an agent of change, and today that light marks the transition from John the Baptist’s “Repent!” message of remorse, to Jesus’ “Repent!” message of change. With John, “repent” is a warning. With Jesus, “repent” is an invitation--“Follow me.” The worst of it is, the ones who follow are required to commit before they understand where they’re going. Now, that involves trust. And focus. Because, if you don’t know where you’re going, you’ve got to pay attention to the one you’re following. The PFPC’s experience might help you see what I mean about trust and focus. Their saga might sound to you like a congregation’s experience. You can make that connection if you want, but it’s not a religious organization. I’d tell you “what” the PHPC is, but . . . well, the meaning of the letters has shifted several times since its beginnings during the Great Depression, so it’s a little hard to say. The PFPC is rooted in the 1932 Minnesota potato revolt, during which farmers (like my grandfather) discovered the unscrupulous business practices of the local potato broker, and banded together to ship their crop directly to Minneapolis, where they could get a fair price. The resulting Potato Fair Price Cooperative was founded in a land ethic of hard work, operated in cooperation, and took as its ideal justice for all. With the challenges of World War II, the PFPC could not stomach the financial trafficking in their crops by dealers who cheated them, while squeezing folks who couldn’t afford to pay wartime prices. The Potato Fair Price Cooperative eliminated the practice of potato futures, charging the same price at the end of the season as they charged at the beginning, thus earning the nickname of the “flat price” cooperative. Nobody got rich, but people were hungry, and fair was fair. To help their growers, the PFPC (now the Potato Flat Price Co-op) bought a barn, hung up a Co-op sign, and sold locally. Their vision of justice served their neighbors (the ones who were hungry) as well as it served them (the ones who grew the food). Farm policy in the 1950s and 60s was the next challenge to the PFPC way of life, as the cooperative vision was eroded through farm subsidies which pushed potatoes out in favor of grain, while mechanized farming pushed out workers in favor of machines. As sales cooperatives eroded, the PFPC found new life in discovering that by combined purchasing power they could still work for a common good, thus becoming the Potato Farm Purchase Co-op. The kids grew up and went off to college, returning as part of the “back to the land” movement of the 1970s. Old-timers rented them their farmhouses, barns, and gardens, selling off the rest of their land to neighbors who were consolidating as corporate farms. The kids thought PFPC stood for Potato Free People’s Commune, the consolidators thought PFPC stood for Potato Farm Purchase Control, and the PFPC charter lost its focus. What was the point? “Justice for those who work” and “Food for those who hunger” was supplanted by “God helps those who help themselves.” PFPC subscribers focused on the bottom-line and trusted themselves or market research. As farming’s economic realities sunk in, the homestead plots were sold to developers for housing subdivisions. This fueled the cynics of the 80s and 90s, who said PFPC stood for Potentially Fast Profit Co-option. About this time, people started pronouncing the sign on the empty potato barn “coop” instead of “co-op,” because “cooperative” was foreign culture to the folks in McMansions. It was no surprise when the barn became Papa’s Friendly Practice Coop, a museum that features cider and pumpkins in the fall. Lately, the town board has been reviewing something new out by the golf course home sites. A go-getter from town figured out the empty-nesters who built there were getting older, needing extra help, and might not be willing to move out of this great community, so they’re proposing adding an assisted living facility, and it’s only a matter of time before the nursing home comes in, too. Pretty-much Faded Past Care facility. And that’s the very end of something that once focused on mutual trust and worked to bring justice to the here-and-now. Where did it go? The PFPC was responsive to changes in the economy and culture. But the vision lost its focus and disappeared. When Jesus called those fishermen, did he say, “Follow me,” or did he say, “Follow me”? Somehow, I think it makes a difference who says, “Follow me,” especially when you’re signing on to something with a vague goal. We’ve got to trust the Person we follow. Jesus had been preaching “The kingdom of heaven has come near,” but even with 2,000 years of scholarly pursuit, the kingdom-which-has-not-yet-come-but-which-is-near is not clearly defined. If you’re not sure whether you’re going to Alaska or New Mexico, and you aren’t sure how you’re going to get there, you are investing a lot of trust in the guide, and your’ going to have to do what the guide suggests. When, like the PFPC, the Church is only about change or reform or responding to need, and not about the gospel of Jesus Christ, we’ve lost our focus. It’s a slippery slope from “fishing for people,” to decently and in order for the sake of order and decency. I’ve been riding airplanes this week and having conversations with total strangers, and despite my fears for the future of the Church, my hope in the gospel of Jesus Christ has been renewed. If my airplane conversations are any indicator, I think God is as active now as when Jesus called those first disciples. It’s just that God’s activity doesn’t look like what we have come to expect. It doesn’t necessarily take the old, established routes. For instance, one of my airplane seatmates told me about a non-profit organization she founded in 2004, to train young people in leadership, global issues, and sustainable practices. She knew nothing about “sustainable” when she received her call, but she said it was like taking dictation from God: “Get poster board, use pencil, you’ll be erasing a lot.” And then, she just had to trust. People and resources were given as she needed them. Consequently, she and her organization have blessed and sent out young people who engaged in intensive study, mentoring, and service in Third World countries. They are challenged through spiritual engagement to change the world. But first she had to get poster board and use pencil. Know whom you trust. But then act. She said she has never felt so hopeful in her life. And I felt hopeful just talking with her. God is still active. I wonder what sitting on an airplane next to Peter was like after he threw down his net. Maybe he said, “I don’t know where I’m headed. But I’ve got the poster board with me, and I’m going to use pencil.” There is such a thing as hope, because God is still active. The call is to repent—stop, change direction. Then to listen for “Follow me.” Focus on the One who calls. The call will be personal. But trust that “follow me” means that One we follow is ahead of us, that we do not do this on our own. We have been given a great light. |
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