Stephen Terry, Director

Still Waters Ministry

Ministering Like Jesus

Commentary for the August 22, 2020 Sabbath School Lesson

"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God." 2 Corinthians 1:3-4, NIV

In the television series, "American Gods," based on Neil Gaiman's book with the same name, a particularly harsh depiction of American Christianity unfolds in the nighttime setting of the Rio Grande River. Illegal immigrants are crossing the river from Mexico into the United States in search of hope and life that have eluded them back home. All goes well until automatic gunfire erupts from the American side and the refugees begin to fall into pools of their own blood, men, women, toddlers, and babies all succumb to the hailstorm of lead. The "coyote" leading them also dies and a close-up shot shows us that he was Jesus. Then the bitter irony hits home when the light from the muzzle flashes reveals the automatic rifles held by the American vigilantes sport engraved Bible verses. While, to my knowledge, this exact scene has not played out in real life, metaphorically if the words of rhetoric were bullets such a hailstorm continually strikes those who would come to American shores, pursuing the same dream that brought most of our ancestors here in earlier generations. Vagabonds on a foreign shore, they radiated glad appreciation to any who showed them kindness and compassion. That compassion sowed seeds of greatness that built the American empire. We are what we are today, not because of those who mistreated the refugees, but because of those who welcomed them and saw in their numbers and diversity the great nation we could become.

However, America has a history of not being welcoming. There were those who resented Catholics, Irishmen, Celestials (Asians), Africans, Eastern Europeans, Middle Easterners, and even the American Indians who were here before them. Despite those sentiments, some had a bigger heart and extended a helping hand. Every time the nation seemed about to destroy itself with internecine conflict, saner lights would shine, and the nation would pull itself back from the brink and assimilation moved forward. The evidence of that success has brought a paunch to many an American waistline as we all have enjoyed the many and diverse foods the several cultures brought us. From pizza to tandoori, from ramen to mangoes, from Pho to Kimchi, we can sample them all and still only be scratching the surface of the wonderful foods immigrants have brought us. But their contributions are not limited to food. Everyone famous or common has, in previous generations, come to North America from elsewhere. Even the American Indians' ancestors are said by some to have arrived here across a land bridge from Asia or by seacraft, settling in coastal communities and spreading across two continents from there.

We might think that after so many generations, the process would be familiar to all and the advantages clear, but the reason "American Gods" strikes a raw nerve is we know we are not living up to the compassionate ideal enshrined at the Statue of Liberty in Emma Lazarus's poem "The New Colossus."

"Give me your tired, your poor,

your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

the wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Ironically, she wrote these words in 1883, the same year the Chinese Exclusion Act was passed by Congress. In a "pen-is-mightier-than-the-sword" moment, the poem survived and continues to shine forth on Liberty Island while the Exclusion Act ended after only a decade. Perhaps this is representative of history as a whole. While taught history tends to memorialize battles, abuses of power, and obscene displays of wealth, it is the common thread of compassion that seems to endure through all. While the level of commitment ebbs and flows as tolerated by majority sentiment, still a cadre committed to its exercise continue their commitment to compassion and kindness and pass that commitment to the next generation. One of the most widely known vehicles for inculcating that knowledge is the Bible. The message of caring for our neighbor flows like a radiant, golden stream throughout its pages.[i] And lest there be any confusion in the matter, Jesus made it clear that "neighbor" includes "foreigner" when he related the "Story of the Good Samaritan."[ii] Showing compassion and kindness is the very essence of being a neighbor. Without those qualities, we are merely ships passing in the night, intent on our own agendas with little interaction with others beyond the essential pleasantries. We have too often forgotten the kindness and compassion of neighborliness, and such compassion is sometimes not even found within families. The wounds of those kinds of relationships often last generations.

Some make an effort at compassion but go astray. They show kindness to those who are part of their social circle but stumble when challenged to do so for others outside that group. It is not hard to find these individuals. They may be pastors, church leaders, or simply those who seek influence in the church. Watch them at church potlucks. Whom do they sit with? Do they only sit with those who they feel are the same social status as them? Or are they as ready to sit with the lowest as well as the highest? Compassion can be measured by us by what we do for those who may not be able to do anything for us to enhance our social status or fund a program we are pushing. Social status can crumble in an instant, and programs come and go, often with little to show in effectiveness, but how we treat those who are unable to help us will remain for eternity.[iii] Their voices, which we did not deign to hear in life, may speak up one day when we stand before One who always hears the cries of the oppressed.[iv] We may seek a continuance from the Judge to heal the situation, however, after thousands of years of such continuances, we will have exhausted them all, and justice will return to us what we have visited on others. This is not God's desire, but our continual rationalizing why we should not show compassion as Christ did has prevented us from seeing our true state. We are condemned by the testimony of many witnesses. Having adamantly clung to our innocence and the righteousness of our perspective, we stand before the District Attorney who assures us that he has witnesses and proof that will make a guilty verdict certain. Mulling our past in our minds we know this to be true. Recalling the lessons we learned at the feet of others in Sabbath School as children, we understand how far we have wandered astray. Panicked, our tears begin to flow, and the prosecutor speaks words that give us hope. With softened voice, he says, "We can make a deal. It is not too late. Are you willing to allocute before the Judge what you have done? If you are, I may be able to commute your sentence to probation." Grateful that the prosecutor has shown us mercy we did not deserve, we gladly accept, even though the allocution will be hurtful to our pride and self-righteousness.

After we are released by the court from custody, we leave the court feeling light as a feather. The temptation arises to return to our former behavior where we had power and influence. We had good times with that circle of "friends." But the paper in our hands reminds us that we must report to the Probation Officer who will check our progress and provide guidance. The Judge said that what we thought was true before was not and the Probation Officer will help us to see the truth about ourselves and those around us.[v] So we resolve to follow the Judge's direction.

When we arrive home, we call some of our friends and are surprised to learn that several of them have accepted the same offer, but most have decided not to take it seriously and have returned to their old practices. They encourage us to do the same. "We are going to picket an abortion clinic and make sure those lost souls get all the judgment we just narrowly escaped. Want to join us?"[vi] "We are not sure that is allowed under the terms of our probation.

"C'mon. Don't be like Jack!"
"Who is Jack?"

"He was a part of our group before you joined us and after he went before the Judge and got probation, he decided he didn't want to hang around with us anymore."

"What happened to him?"

"He's still around. I heard he was helping at the shelter. Pretty gross, I guess, with all those smelly homeless people. I prefer waving signs and yelling at people to 'Get saved!' to doing that. Come join us! It will be fun!"