Proper 20c -- St. Alfred's -- Palm Harbor

author: Dale Hathaway
date: September 21, 2025
subtitle: Hearing the prophets in our midst

A long time ago

A long time ago, in the 1970s, I was younger then than now. My priest at the time thought that I would be interested in listening to a man, a Carmelite priest, who had recently published a book called Mystical Passion. We drove down to Pueblo from Colorado Springs — that’s pronounced Pe'ehbla not Pueblo.

Some things were different in those days and some things were the same. I had hair that ran down to the middle of my back then just like today. But it was brown then. There were great divisions in the country then just like there are now. One thing that was different than is that I knew far more things than I know today — At least I thought I knew. Today the list of things, important things, that I really know can be written on a paper napkin.

There was also a spirit in the times then that was searching for a new way to experience the divine. William McNamara, that was the author's name, and he seemed to be offering a new experience of the divine in our midst.

We gathered into a gymnasium attached to a Catholic school and took our place in the bleachers. When it was about time to begin, he walked into the space and sat down. I was completely taken aback by his presence. He looked for all the world to me as if Jeremiah or Amos had walked right out of the Old Testament and into this humble gymnasium in Pueblo, Colorado.

The mystic is not a special kind of person; every person is a special kind of mystic. – Father William McNamara

I felt as if I was in the presence of a prophet, and I knew that this was someone I needed to pay attention to. In some ways, I suppose I have been trying to listen to his teaching, to his words, ever since. Trying to make them real in my life. Such is the impact of a prophet when one listens with prophetic ears and heart.

A prophet

The words of a true prophet carry a weight you cannot ignore. Even when you can’t put your fingers on it, you know the difference. A true prophet transmits the actual words of God. All the other prophets somehow carry human words -- perhaps mixed with God's words.

To illustrate the importance of the prophet's ability to convey God's words, it’s useful to examine the way the Hebrew Bible is divided. It's different from the way Christians divide the Bible. In the Hebrew mind what really matters, what really carries weight, is the word of God. That’s the province of the prophet. And it is the greatest of all the prophets, Moses, who it was said delivered the most important word of God, The Torah. The first five books of the Bible (Both Christian and Hebrew that is.)

The next basic division of the Hebrew Bible is, surprisingly called, the Prophets. This section includes what Christians call historical books. From the Hebrew point of view, there are not historical and non-historical works, there are only words from prophets and words from everyone else.

The 3rd division of the Hebrew Bible is called, then, ”Writings” -- from those who were not prophets. The Torah, the Prophets, and the Writings.

In the Hebrew understanding it's all about hearing the words that God has for us -- right here, right now.

Amos

If we turn our attention to Amos, one of the earliest of the prophets, the interpretation of his words is fairly straightforward.

Are there those among you who take advantage of the poor? Are there those among you who push on the scales of justice to tilt in their favor? Are there those among you who place economic gain above human cost? God is not pleased.

If we hear such words with prophetic ears and prophetic hearts, we somehow recognize them as God‘s own words. We cannot resist.

An example of a prophet

I had an experience once of a prophet’s words that impelled me out of my seat and through the doors to make a commitment to supporting one of those poor that Amos is talking about.

This prophet's name was Tony Campolo. He was speaking at a Christian conference in Hawaii. He spoke with such authority, pointing to poor children in the Philippines as an example. He said it in such a way that it felt like God‘s own words were: "Go out those doors in the back of this auditorium." I did. And there I saw people at tables who were ready to help us commit to helping. I signed up right then and there to make a monthly offering to Compassion International to help support a young girl living in destitute poverty. That monthly commitment continued for many years, only changing when I recognized another opportunity that seemed more urgent.

Jesus's words today

Today's gospel reading throws us some challenges. The ending is clear enough.

You cannot serve both God and wealth at the same time.

Of course even though the meaning is plain enough -- we usually ignore the words. You know, if it’s God speaking, we maybe should pay attention.

What we heard before those words, though, seems anything but straightforward and obvious.

Admire the cleverness of the sneaky servant, the dishonest steward. Are there those among you who cook the books? Be like them. Are there those among you who practice deceptive advertising for corporate gain? Be like them.

These words sound at the very least peculiar being put into the mouth of Jesus by the gospel writer. It makes it even stranger that this saying of Jesus follows directly on the parable that we think we understand: The parable of the Prodigal Son.

What do we make of this? It's seems curious that if I look at the world around me, I more often see examples of the dishonest steward than I do the father of the prodigal son. Do I get Jesus's message backwards?

Difficult texts

If today's words from Luke’s gospel sound strange and difficult, it may be because they don’t fit what we think we know about Jesus. This passage has been labeled among the most difficult in the New Testament. We ask, how can Jesus be saying this?

More than once in my ministry I have bought books and read essays that claimed to explain the difficult texts that we encounter in the Bible. Again, and again I have thought I will get some clarity to help with my preaching. But just as invariably, the texts have fallen short of their promise.

For one thing, the very word difficult has different meanings. Difficult could mean that we don’t understand the social or historical mileu that these words were directed towards. Difficult can mean that we don’t understand the language or the words that are used.

Difficult can be that the words don’t fit the picture of Jesus that we carry with us. The picture of Jesus I carried from my childhood looked and acted a good bit like my grandmother. She was the person who first taught me those fundamental gospel stories.

Difficult can also mean the challenge we feel in putting the words we hear into action. For example, Jesus says very plainly if someone strikes you on the cheek, turn the other to let them strike it. Alas , we understand the words, but find putting them into practice to be difficult.

Putting prophetic words into action

[When one of the prophets says clearly, break your swords into plowshares and another prophet says beat your plowshares into swords, we exclaim, ha ha, the text is contradictory! And we don't hear God speaking to us.

If another prophet says, "Treat the poor and neglected with respect", we may understand the words but decide they must apply to someone else. "Hear this, you that trample on the needy, and bring to ruin the poor of the land,…"

One of the reasons that Jesus's words from the gospels can sound difficult to understand clearly is that they may have been intended precisely not to be clear. They may be intended to compel us to action or to being something new.

Among the earliest passages in the gospels, as we have inherited them, are gatherings of sayings. In the years around the time of Jesus, there were other such collections of sayings. An example is found in the text called the Pirke Avoth, The "Sayings of the Fathers". From the generation before Jesus, Rabbi Hillel said,

"If I am not for myself, who will be for me? And when I am for myself alone, what am I? And if not now, when?" (Pirke Avoth 1:14).

This powerful statement emphasizes the importance of self-care and personal responsibility, while also cautioning against narcissism and the need for communal engagement and timely action. It’s not intended to be solved. It’s intended to be lived with. Chewed on. Wrestled with. And put into practice.

Many of Jesus's parables are just these sorts of sayings, gathered together. One cannot serve both God and wealth at the same time. Jesus' words are often intended not to give us answers but rather to lead us to wrestle with the Word of God.

Put into practice

[If God's word to us is intended to get us to do something or to be something, the difficulty is in the doing not the understanding. It’s not necessarily easy to put into practice even words that we understand fairly directly.]

[It is said that a simple test can demonstrate a person's character. They say, "Look at how the person treats those who can do nothing for them." Service workers. Subordinates. Strangers. Amos says something about that to us today.]

Are Jesus's words difficult because we don't understand or because we don't have prophetic ears and hearts to put them into action? To repeat a quote from GK Chesterton I said just a couple months ago:

“The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult; and left untried.”

Closing

In his book The Kingdom of God Is a Party, Tony Campolo relates an experience he had late one night in Hawaii. Yes, it's the same Tony Campolo whose prophetic words compelled me to begin supporting Compassion Internatonal.

It was in the middle of the night in Waikiki, after an energizing session at the Hawaiian Island Ministries conference. He went into a bar to get a cup of coffee and a donut.

At about 3:30 am a group of "provocative and boisterous prostitutes" came in. He couldn't help overhearing their animated conversation, and one of them said, "Tomorrow's my birthday. I'm going to be 39."

One of the other women barked back, "What do you want me to do? Throw you a birthday party?" The first woman was hurt as she responded, "You don't have to be so mean. I don't want anything from you. I've never even had a birthday party."

Campolo made a spontaneous decision at that point. He waited till all the women left and then turned to the bartender and asked if they came in every night.

"Yeah!" he answered.

Campolo asked if he knew their names. What was the name of the one having a birthday? Agnes was her name. And right then he said to the bartender, "How about if you and I throw a birthday party for her tomorrow night?"

The bartender smiled and said, "That's a great idea." They figured out how to get a birthday cake and some decorations, and so it came to the next night/morning.

Evidently the word had got out. Seemingly every prostitute in Waikiki showed up at that bar. When Agnes came walking in they all shouted, "Happy Birthday."

Let Campolo's words finish the story:

Never have I seen a person so flabbergasted so stunned so shaken. Her mouth fell open. Her legs seemed to buckle a bit. Her friend grabbed her arm to steady her. As she was led to sit on one of the stools along the counter, we all sang "Happy Birthday"' to her. As we came to the end of our singing with "happy birthday, dear Agnes, happy birthday to you," her eyes moistened. Then, when the birthday cake with all the candles on it was carried out, she lost it and just openly cried. [The bartender] gruffly mumbled, "Blow out the candles, Agnes! Come on! Blow out the candles! If you don't blow out the candles, I'm gonna hafta blow out the candles." And, after an endless few seconds, he did. Then he handed her a knife and told her,

"Cut the cake, Agnes. Yo, Agnes, we all want some cake."

Agnes looked down at the cake. Then without taking her eyes off it, she slowly and softly said, "Look, … , is it all right with you if I I mean is it okay if I kind of what I want to ask you is is it O.K. if I keep the cake a little while? I mean, is it all right if we don't eat it right away?"

[The bartender] shrugged and answered, "Sure! It's O.K. If you want to keep the cake, keep the cake. Take it home, if you want to."

"Can I?" she asked. Then, looking at me, she said, "I live just down the street a couple of doors. I want to take the cake home, okay? I'll be right back. Honest!" She got off the stool, picked up the cake, and carrying it like it was the Holy Grail, walked slowly toward the door. As we all just stood there motionless, she left.

When the door closed, there was a stunned silence in the place. Not knowing what else to do, I broke the silence by saying, "What do you say we pray?" Looking back on it now, it seems more than strange for a sociologist to be leading a prayer meeting with a bunch of prostitutes in a diner in Honolulu at 3:30 in the morning. But then it just felt like the right thing to do. I prayed for Agnes. I prayed for her salvation. I prayed that her life would be changed and that God would be good to her.

When I finished, [the bartender] leaned over the counter and with a trace of hostility in his voice, he said, "Hey! You never told me you were a preacher. What kind of church do you belong to?" In one of those moments when just the right words came, I answered, "I belong to a church that throws birthday parties for whores at 3:30 in the morning."

[The bartender] waited a moment and then almost sneered as he answered, "No you don't. There's no church like that. If there was, I'd join it. I'd join a church like that!" Wouldn't we all?

Wouldn't we all like to join a church that throws birthday parties for whores at 3:30 in the morning?

Today our ears have heard words from prophets, ancient and modern. As Jesus would put it: Do we have ears to hear? Some of the words seem plain enough. Some seem strange. Some seem difficult. Birthday parties for prostitutes? Take care of the poor?

When God speaks, who are we to pick and choose?

Let us go forth today with a renewed commitment to listen to God's message to us with prophetic ears and hearts. And if we do, we shall be compelled to put God's words into action and being.