Mal 2:17-3:2, 8-12

28 July 2002

“Don’t Blame the Messenger”

            When I started this little series on the Minor Prophets, I promised that each one would be very different from the others.  Well, the last in the Book of the Twelve, Malachi, enables me to keep that promise.  And it will probably get me in trouble before I’m through!

            What’s different about Malachi isn’t so much his message—although at his point in history, he’s forced to put a new spin on things.  No, more than his message, it’s his style that sets him apart.  Instead of the usual, “thus says the Lord,” Malachi constantly uses a question-and-answer format.  Some have said that the book is meant to portray a court case, with the Jewish nation bringing charges against the Lord, charges which in turn are refuted.

            Now, very briefly, about that historical context I mentioned:  the book of Malachi is set in the mid 5th century B. C., almost 100 years after the first exiles returned from Babylonia.  This comes well into the era of Persian rule.  By this time, the temple has been rebuilt, but the people have grown weary with their new masters.  Soon however, just as the handwriting on the wall spelled doom for the Babylonian Empire, the Persian Empire will begin to dwindle until, in the next century, a guy named Alexander the Great will establish Greek rule in the Middle East.

            Besides his question-and-answer style, there’s something else that sets Malachi apart.  It’s the very real possibility that the prophet we call Malachi is actually anonymous.  We don’t know who he is.  (My apologies to Duccio di Buoninsegna, whose 14th century painting you see reproduced on the cover of your worship bulletin!)

            The Hebrew word “Malachi,” ykia;l]m' (mal^e’aki), literally means, “my messenger.”  For that reason, it’s often assumed that the name comes from 3:1.  “See, I am sending my messenger (I am sending Malachi) to prepare the way before me.”  Others point to 2:7, which says of the office of priest that “he is the messenger of the Lord of hosts.”  Still, for the purpose of convenience, I’ll refer to the prophet as Malachi.

            Understanding the meaning of the name Malachi, maybe my sermon title begins to make sense.  As with other prophets, the message of Malachi may be likely to get a chilly response from his audience.  He repeatedly mentions the covenant of love that God has established with them, as well as the ways they’ve violated it.

            This is where understanding the history helps us.  As I said earlier, at this point, the Persians have been in charge for a long time.  It’s the frequent scenario of the liberator becoming the oppressor.  Malachi addresses a defeated people.  They’re dispirited; their faith has been deflated.  Already, in the second verse of the book, we see that they wonder if God really loves them.

            In the first verse of today’s reading, we hear the cry, “Where is the God of justice?” (2:17).  In the face of Persian rule, many doubt that the Lord even cares what goes on.  This where we get something that might sound familiar, in view of last week’s sermon on Zephaniah.  Malachi speaks of the coming day of judgment, also known as the day of the Lord.  The two figures here, “my messenger to prepare the way before me, and the Lord whom you seek,” are interpreted by the church to be John the Baptist and Jesus Christ (3:1).

            Of the several matters about which Malachi accuses his fellow Jews of being unfaithful to God, I want to focus on the one he introduces with the question, “Will anyone rob God?” (3:8).  That’s a rather startling question!  By going into this, he touches on ways in which the people show that their complaints against the Lord are more than a little….insincere.  According to the prophet, they shouldn’t be pretending that it’s God who’s the one in the wrong.

            In any event, by asking that question, Malachi gets into the always lively subject of money and possessions.  Actually, he’s already addressed it earlier in the book.  In 1:8, he chastises his hearers for bringing lame and diseased animals to the temple for sacrifice.  The people take their civic duties more seriously than they do God.  Malachi makes this inquiry, dripping with sarcasm, “Try presenting that to your governor; will he be pleased with you or show you favor?”

            The prophet continues that line of thought in chapter 3.  By being stingy with the tithes and offerings, the people are robbing God.  Malachi has mentioned other ways in which their worship has degenerated into a slipshod affair.  The withholding of offerings is yet another example of how their worship is incomplete.

            But of course, this is much bigger than what happens in a service of worship.  This extends to all of life.  We hear the promise of the Lord, when “put…to the test,” to “see if I will not open the windows of heaven for you and pour down for you an overflowing blessing” (v. 10).

            I don’t know about you, but this is a scripture text I’ve heard abused in the most crass and crude ways.  I’ve heard preachers talk about giving to God like it’s a business transaction.  The promises of God’s blessing here, and elsewhere in the Bible, are compared with investing in the stock market.  (Minus the corruption, I suppose!)

            Verse 11 continues the pledge:  “I will rebuke the locust for you, so that it will not destroy the produce of your soil.”  The word for “locust” literally means “devourer.”  Today, locusts are still a problem, but we all can think of things that symbolically eat up our resources.  We can imagine all kinds of problems that seem to devour our money.

            Malachi wants the people to reaffirm the covenant with Yahweh that they’ve disregarded.  A big part of that is getting their financial priorities in order.  When that happens, the word from the Lord is that “all nations will count you happy, for you will be a land of delight” (v. 12).  The Lord will bless them, or more precisely, they’ll understand that they’ve already been blessed.

            It’s true that the tithe, ten percent, was part of the Old Testament law.  So that must mean that the New Testament says very little about money!  Not exactly.  Many of the parables of Jesus deal with the use of money and things of value—some appear in today’s gospel reading (Mt 13:31-33, 44-52).  In fact, much of Jesus’ teaching deals with wealth, and the treatment thereof.

            Unfortunately, money tends to bring out the worst in us.  Maybe that’s why Jesus so often warns about its power.  Elizabeth Achtemeier tells the “true story of a man in Dade County, Florida, who sued his church for the return of the money which he had contributed to it.  ‘I delivered $800 of my savings to the…Church,’ said the man in the court suit, ‘in response to the pastor’s promise that blessings, benefits and rewards would come to the person who did tithe 10 per cent of his wealth.  I did not and have not received these benefits.’”[1]  Either this guy, his pastor, or both of them are looking at this thing 180 degrees in the wrong direction.  They’re asking, “What’s in it for me?”  And by the way, there’s some of that crassness I spoke of earlier!

            She finishes the sad tale with this:  “Motivating and accompanying all true gifts to God is the pouring out of our life, our love, our all.  And when we so present ourselves, a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, it is surely true that heaven’s richest bounties are heaped upon us.”[2]

            Our litigious church member, as well as his pastor, might do well to meditate on the epistle reading in 2 Corinthians 9.  They need to be reminded that “God loves a cheerful giver,” one whose vision is expanded to see the big picture (v. 7).  When such a person gives, the result is an overflow “with many thanksgivings to God” (v. 12).

            For an example of those “many thanksgivings to God,” consider the many people helped by our participation in something like….the 0.7 Initiative, whose display I encountered at General Assembly.  (And whose literature I’ve posted on the bulletin board.)  It encourages individuals and churches to devote .7% of their income to work that brings health, education, and wholeness to our neighbors in poor countries.  (That’s about one-fourteenth of a tithe!)  Nations are challenged to allocate .7% of their Gross Domestic Product to international aid.  America, while doing well in total dollars, lags well behind many of the world’s democracies in terms of percentage of wealth devoted, coming in at about .1% of GDP.

            What we’re talking about here is stewardship.  And stewardship is about more than just money.  Again, this extends to all of life.  It especially includes home sweet home.  In last Wednesday’s issue of the Christian Science Monitor, there was an article entitled, “What’s Happening to the American Home?”[3]  One of the article’s main points was that the size of new houses in the US has been growing by 500 square feet every 20 years since 1950, while family size has decreased from 3.4 to 2.6.  The reason for the increased size is partly, if not primarily, due to our consumer culture’s thirst for more and more possessions.

            “Cindy Glovinsky, author of Making Peace With the Things in Your Life, [says,] ‘If there's one addiction that's holding the human race hostage, it's an addiction to things…I've seen people who haven't had a guest in their home for years because they're having so much trouble keeping up with stuff, and they're so ashamed of the way things look…Yet these people refuse to let go of things so they can have people in their lives.’"  Architect Sarah Susanka is even more blunt:  “We’re not living our lives…Our stuff is living us.”

            Imagine the changes we could make if we weren’t so devoted to our idols—I mean, our possessions!  We might even rob them of their power by giving them away!  We might even escape the ravings of some wild-eyed prophet who claims that we’re robbing God.

            In our heart of hearts, we don’t want to be enslaved to dead and lifeless things.  Next week, I’ll begin a series of topical sermons on discipleship, inspired by Eugene Peterson’s book, A Long Obedience in the Same Direction.  I’ll start with something too often missing from our lives—and this is something any decent prophet would insist on—repentance.

            In our heart of hearts, we want to be free—free of the many things that would enslave us.  I won’t insult you by pretending to have the answer that each of you needs for your own liberation.  In this sermon, I’ve made just the slightest hints at what such a life would look like.  Instead, I invite us to journey together with the true messenger from God and ask him to refine us, so that we may shine brighter than gold.

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