Preaching to the Choir?

Hear this, you that trample on the needy, and bring ruin to the poor of the land,

Saying,"When will the new moon be over so that we may sell grain,"

"And the sabbath, so that we may offer wheat for sale?"

"We will make the ephah small and the shekel great, and practice deceit with false balances,

"buying the poor for silver and the needy for a pair of sandals,"

"And selling the sweepings of the wheat."

The Lord has sworn by the pride of Jacob:

Surely I will never forget any of their deeds.

-Amos 8: 4-7

A few months back, I was asked to speak to a group of politicians and people running for public office about the problems of poverty and homelessness here in Charles County Maryland.  I did so with little trepidation.  I felt I had something prophetic to say, even if I was just given a little window of opportunity and a few open ears.  Tomorrow I will be doing the same thing, but this time for religious people from the community, other Pastors and church leaders and perhaps even people from other faith traditions.  This time, I feel like I don't quite know what to say, because I don't want to come across as preachy or condescending.  I understand this time that many people who choose to come in the morning are probably facing the same desperate feeling of being up against a wall, facing an unjust system that they think they cannot change.

On one hand I know that our words have power, I know that, if I speak with the conviction of a prophet my words will be heard and maybe hearts will be challenged. On the other hand, I know that most of the people I will speak to tomorrow are standing in the same shoes as I am, our cultural power has faded and the urgency of our voices has been washed out by the concerns for mere survival. Our prophetic tongues are stilled too often by the demands of our priestly vocation.

Lately I have been feeling the Spirit say, "Cry out!" and I hear my spirit answer, "What shall I cry?" I feel like a lot of the un-justice that we experience is ingrained our culture and in our very ideology.  We have served Mammon and the idol of self for so long we almost can't imagine what a community rooted in love would actually look like.  Many of us, myself included, have about given up hope of ever seeing it happen.  Thus we retreat into our smaller and smaller enclaves of people who are, for some reason, still willing to listen to the Voice of the Lord.  As we retreat charlatans step up to take the place that prophets should have occupied.  They glorify worldly success, they trumpet the numbers of "lost sheep" they are managing to corral and fleece.  They tell people the comforting news that God wants to bless them, and utterly ignore the challenge of being a disciple, and for the time being their version of faith is drawing more people than mine.

In their temples one learns to look out for number one, praising some kind of god while neglecting the suffering of the poor and vulnerable.  If their conscience ever gives them a nudge they might offer some alms to the beggars and feel that that is sufficient to continue to claim their god's blessing.

I know, all of that sounds dramatic and maybe a little bit harsh, that is sort of the reason that I'm trying to think this through beforehand.  I'm assuming that my audience tomorrow is coming to this gathering because they also feel that something has gone wrong with our system and they may be wondering what to do about it.  Part of the task is to help people to see how truly dire the circumstances are for those who live below the level of economic security.  People who are doing well always seem too ready to forget the ease with which things can fall apart and it is indeed hard to look clearly at the system that has allowed you to flourish and see the flaws.

I guess I know what I need to say, my goal is to say it with love and grace.