A Pure Offering

                                                    Malachi 1: 6-14

 

 

          Messenger of God. That’s what the word Malachi means in Hebrew. Messenger of God. The Malachi of the Hebrew Bible was exactly that. He was one of three prophets in the post-exilic period, the others being Haggai and Zechariah. His ministry came in the 400’s BC, after Ezra and probably during the time of Nehemiah. The exiles had returned from Babylon. The temple had been re-built. The system of sacrifices had been re-instated. It was long enough to get re-established, and also long enough to get apathetic and lax and just plain lazy about the worship of God. It was to this time that Malachi was called.

          In chapter 1, the prophet reports that God wants to know: Where is my honor? Where is my fear or awe or respect? God says he is being disrespected in the offerings given to him in the temple. He says the priests despise his name. God says through the prophet that polluted food is being offered upon his altar. God is talking about blind animals, lame and sick animals, blemished animals. This is not right. God has made it clear that the people of God are to bring their first fruits, their best, to the altar; in other words, a pure offering.

          Burnt offerings are part of Old Testament lore. In Leviticus, God’s people are taught exactly how to bring offerings. Even before that, we see God’s displeasure with Cain for bringing an offering unacceptable to God. But burnt offerings are a relic from the distant past. They long ago ceased to be used, so why examine this passage? Because the story here is not about burnt offerings. It is about the state of affairs in post exilic Israel, the state of affairs with God and his people, and that state of affairs is not good.

          A postal worker waits upon you at the counter. He or she goes through the motions, asks all the same questions, mutters the uniform thank you at the end of your business and during the entire transaction, never looks up to make eye contact. The drive thru food attendant does the same thing, asks the same questions, even if you come every day and always order the same thing. You want to purchase something you saw on TV. The clerk on the other end of the line cannot skip a single question, no matter how many times you say no. The routine is the same. Please press 1. Your message is very important to us. Please wait for a live human to talk to you. It is ritual without reason, practice designed for efficiency and accommodation, not personal contact. It is the language of going through the motions without any personal investment.

          In post-exilic Israel, the priests were the first offenders to be called out by God. He accused them of despising his name. To despise someone’s name in ancient Israel was to give disrespect to the person. The priests were permitting sub-quality offerings to be presented to the Lord. It was so offensive that God said he wished that someone would shut the doors to the temple. The priests thought that God actually needed the offerings to exist. God tells them otherwise. He was there before the temple, before burnt offerings, and he would be there afterward.

          God has taken notice of how the offerings have become “old hat” for the priests. “What a weariness this is,” say the priests. They snort at their duties, bored with their responsibilities. They don’t care. They are going through the motions just like the clerks and sales attendants in our lives. Please press 1. Your burnt offering is very important to us.  A customer representative with be with you shortly.

          Though God is more than displeased with the priests, he does not confine his anger to them. He also chastises the farmers and others that bring sub-quality animals for sacrifice. He actually calls them cheats. He says that the time will come when his name will be great among all the nations, the Gentiles. The time will come when those who are bored, who are apathetic about their responsibilities to God, will find their offering, and themselves, rejected.

          The thing is, God doesn’t care about burnt offerings. Listen to what the prophet Hosea tells us: “For I desire steadfast love and not sacrifice, the knowledge of God rather than burnt offerings” [Hos. 6:6]. Burnt offerings were simply a way of teaching God’s people to give their allegiance to God, to show their appreciation and love for him through a sacrifice that recognized him as the source of their good fortune, their very existence.

          Flash forward to this month. When you get paid, do you pay your bills and then write a check to the church? Do you lay out your Sunday best to come to church or do you hurriedly get dressed with no thought to where you are going? Do you help your neighbor before or after your chores are done? Do you pray before you start your day? Do you pray before you close your eyes for sleep? Do you try to walk with God during the day?

          Steve Klipowicz, one of my professors, calls this sort of behavior the “cycle of apathy.” We offer a sub-par sacrifice. Our rituals of worship become boring and meaningless. God’s reputation is diminished not only in our eyes, but in the eyes of those who look up to us. That causes another sub-par sacrifice and the cycle continues. Please press 1. Your sacrifice is very important to us.

         When we give God less than our best, when we allow others to tell us what the Bible says and do not engage in our own self-examination in tandem with the Holy Spirit, God is dishonored. This has been called the Malachi Effect. We cheat God by giving him leftovers and seconds. The result is predictable. God’s reputation is diminished. Our spiritual vitality and commitment are diminished. Our witness is lost as we become more apathetic until our apathy becomes not the exception but the norm.

          The world in which we live is plagued with apathy and disconnects and a “whatever” sort of mentality that encroaches into everything we do, everything we profess to believe. But “whatever” doesn’t cut it with God. God doesn’t want whatever. He wants “a pure offering.” When God decided to rescue us, he didn’t send a second rate Messiah. He didn’t send someone lame or sick or blind or defective. He sent a piece of himself in the form of his one and only son. God sent us a perfect offering.

          When we come here on Sunday or Wednesday or any other time we enter God’s house; when we walk in this world that God created for us  and pursue our commerce with it and the people in our lives, doesn’t the God who gave all that we have –all that we are-deserve our best? When we give less than that, when we put God in any place but first—we diminish God and tarnish the excellence of his image. When we give God less than our best, our first fruits, then our view of God is lowered and our access to him is blocked.

          It doesn’t matter whether we are talking about our money or our time or our talents. It’s all the same to God. We owe him our best, our first fruits. We owe him a pure offering. The apostle Paul asked the church and the people of God to present ourselves to God as living sacrifices—not burnt offerings.

          We eat from the altar we present to God. In our giving and our living, let us consider what it is that we want to receive. Do you want the taste of apathy and “whatever” in your mouth? Or do you want the taste of forgiveness and glory?

                              For the Sake of Herodias

                                                    Mark 6: 14-29

 

 

          I don’t watch much television and when I do, it’s usually at some odd time when nothing worth watching is on. The other night, I turned on the tube and this show caught my eye. ABC aired a program called “What Would You Do?” John Quinones, a former TV reporter, emcees this show where actors portray people at their worst, either acting illegally or improperly. Quinones is looking for someone to stand up, to confront the wrongdoer and try to stop the wrong. If you have watched this program, you know what he finds. The odds are about 50 to 1 against interfering. People watch; they shake their heads; they mumble. But seldom do they get involved. The program starts out showing up bad behavior in the actors. What is really being showcased is the bad behavior of the onlookers.

          In the passage today, Mark tells us the story of the beheading of John the Baptist. Really it is a story of a party thrown by a heavyweight and attended by all the rest of the heavyweights in the area, and the absurd result that can happen when someone runs his mouth without first thinking. In this the shortest of the gospel accounts, Mark spends a considerable amount of ink on this story, so perhaps we should spend some time on it as well. What is the real story? Like so many stories in the gospels and all of Jesus’s parables, there is here a story beneath the story. The facts, such as we can see them here, are only the backdrop for a much bigger truth.

          Herod—Herod Antipas to be exact, was the king of the region, appointed by Caesar. He had Jewish roots that went back to the Edomite tribe, but his loyalty was all about Rome and whatever else could advance him personally. His wife, Herodias, was even worse. She was ambitious and cutthroat about it. She had been married to Philip, Herod’s still very alive half-brother. John the Baptist charged Herod publically with breaking the law by marrying her. Not a good political move on John’s part, but John the Baptist was not one to worry about politics.

          Mark tells us that Herod seized John and bound him in prison for the sake of Herodias. Because his wife didn’t like John the Baptist, John was arrested and put in prison. Such was the power of this corrupt woman over the ruler of Judea. But the facts are confusing, for later, Mark records that John had been talking to Herod, that Herod feared John, that he knew John to be a righteous and holy man. Never mind that Herod was not known as a religious man himself. He still respected this man of God.

          Mark goes on to tell us that when Herod heard John, he was greatly perplexed, and yet he heard him gladly. Herod was in conflict. Can you feel the push and pull going on within him? Herodias had a grudge against John. She wanted him dead. She had the ear of the king—enough to get John arrested and thrown in prison. But Herod kept John safe. He listened to him. Herod was conflicted. The Greek verb that we translate perplexed also means “at a loss,” and it was an ongoing state. In other words, Herod kept on listening, but stayed confused, and “yet he heard him gladly.”

          Sound familiar? Here is a man, like Pilate with Jesus and Festus with Paul, who is torn between good and evil, right and wrong, ethical and expedient. Herod can almost instinctively sense the right thing to do, and yet what he does is for the sake of Herodias, a spiteful, selfish person.

          The story gets worse. It is Herod’s birthday, and there is a party. Salome, the daughter of Herodias, now step-daughter of Herod, is called in to perform. Mark tells us she danced and pleased Herod and his guests. We must not be so naïve as to think that this dance was anything other than a sexual overture. It was not art that Salome was expressing in her dance. Art doesn’t get the promise, the vow, of half a kingdom. And it was Herodias who was behind the trickery. She knew her husband’s weakness and she exploited it, with the help of her daughter.

          Salome consults Herodias and comes back with her request. Not a new car or house or a trip to the Grand Canyon. Not even half the kingdom. Just the head of John the Baptist on a platter—at once. Mark says that the king was exceedingly sorry…but he had made an oath…and important guests were there.

          Look at all the tensions at play here. There is the push and pull of King Herod and his new wife. There is the tension of Herod and Salome. There are the guests. And there is pride, the unseen but very present guest at almost every banquet, public or private. The King has made a promise and he is caught in its web. Religious columnist Jill Duffield argues that at least one more player is in the room, a player in whose existence she did not always believe. Duffield asserts that the presence of evil, of Satan, is alive and well in this scene. It plays out through the machinations of Herodias, the hypnotic dance of Salome and the vacillation and bad judgment of Herod. Jesus is walking the earth and Satan has his back against the wall. He acts like the liar that he is.

          What is the real story? It has to do with Mark’s comments in v. 17. Herod’s actions are for the sake of Herodias. In v. 26, Herod doesn’t want to break his word. No matter that he has been fooled, manipulated into making a promise before he knows what it may cost him. He has made an oath. He must please his wife and his stepdaughter. He must not look bad in front of company. His price has control. He is afraid of losing face. The real story is that Herod has neither the backbone to lead nor the guts to reverse himself when he has been tricked into making an uninformed promise.

          Okay, so now we have our lesson. There is evil in the world. Satan is all around us. The harder we try to do right, the more he pays attention to us. Herod tried to take care of John the Baptist. He had a strange way of doing it, but he did try in his own way. But when the chips were down, Herod chose Herodias and Salome and his political contacts over God. He was more worried about what people thought of him than how God might judge him. Herod sold out to the demands of his culture rather than stand up for what was right.

           That brings us to one last point. There was someone else in the room when Herod was making this bad decision. In fact, there was a room full of people, probably both men and women. It was a party and the room was full. Everyone heard Salome request the head of John the Baptist. And no one said a word, at least not according to Mark. Why didn’t someone speak up? Why didn’t someone, anyone, say something?

          Jill Duffield puts it this way: “Who’s sitting at your table? And subsequently, who isn’t? When have you been silent when you should have spoken up? What do you need to speak up about right now?”

          First, we need to sit at the right table. We choose our alliances, and we should choose them wisely. But regardless where we sit or who we sit with, life is going to come at us. When bad things are happening right in front of you, what would you do? Will you stand up for what is right.

          Don’t make your decisions for the sake of Herodias or Salome or any so-called important people in your life. Make your decisions based upon what God would have you do. You may not be a king or queen. You may not be the boss. You may just be sitting at a table watching it all unfold in front of you. That doesn’t let you off the hook. When wrong is happening right in your face, what will you do?

          Herod acted not for God, not for right, but for his own gain. He acted like a coward. How will you act?  Will you stand up for what you believe, for what you know is right? The choice you make could be huge. You may do nothing and seem to have no repercussions. Don’t count on it. You may just not know not know at the time how much you actions have meant…how much they may affect not only the actions of others, but also the very course of your life.