Agent Double-Oh-Seven has it all. Movie buffs know that when you hear him intone his introduction, "Bond, James Bond", you are in for another adventure, during which this intrepid spy will single-handedly defeat the enemy, win the affections of three or four women, line his pockets with money, and earn the admiration of one and all. Agent Double-Oh-Seven, if he is the model of what a spy is, is a "wow"! We’d like to be like that! Spying seems glamorous!
But what if the spy is working for the other side? What if espionage is directed against us? That feels very different, doesn’t it? If the spy is named John Walker, and he has used his position in the U. S. Navy to sell secrets to the enemy, that’s not so attractive. If the spy is Aldrich Ames, and he has built houses and bought boats and lived it up with money paid to compromise America, well, that’s not very attractive, is it? That’s horrendous! We cry foul! We abhor that kind of spy!
What’s the difference between Double-Oh-Seven and Aldrich Ames? What’s the difference between the dashing agent who foils plots against motherhood, apple pie, and the American way, over against the grim-faced spook who sells his soul and his nation for a mess of pottage?
Two things: first, whose side is he on? It makes a difference whose interests a spy represents. Are you with us, or against us? Are you on our side, or on their side? The difference between Double-Oh-Seven and Aldrich Ames is that Bond is ours and Ames is theirs. That’s pretty simple.
But a second observation: neither one is the real truth. Neither Bond nor Ames is really what spying is all about. Neither the glamour of Double-Oh-Seven nor the tawdriness of a CIA traitor is the real spy. The real spy is a day-by-day, slug-it-out kind of person, whose life may look very ordinary, and whose work is one of service rather than sleazy sleuthing.
We Christians are spies. We are spies for heaven in the middle of the world. We are out there exposed. It matters which side we are on. But our spying is going to look a lot more like service than sleazy sleuthing.
Joseph’s brothers had sold him into slavery, and packed him off to Egypt. They thought they would never see him again. But Joseph had prospered, and now was the chief man in Egypt, next only to Pharaoh himself. A time of shortages had come; back in Canaan, these fellows had heard that Egypt had plenty of grain to sell, and so here they were, ten of them, down in Egypt, representing their father, just trying to buy food.
Now they stand before their long-lost brother, Joseph. They don’t know him, primarily because they never expected to see him again; but Joseph has recognized them, and he has decided to playa little mind game with them. His tactic is to accuse his brothers of being spies:
Genesis 42:1-17,47:1-6,45:5
I
"You are spies. You have come to see the nakedness of the land." You know, those who have places of power in this world are anxious about Christians. In their anxiety they believe that those of us who are on mission are really only there to reveal their nakedness and to make an issue of their neediness. The people of this world, in their obsession with status and glamour, in the midst of all their worries about power and prestige, quickly misunderstand what we Christians are about. They think we are spies, come to see the nakedness of the land. They believe that we are there only to put them down, serve our own interests, figure out their weaknesses, and just get what we want for ourselves. The world is suspicious of those who are spies of heaven.
In such an atmosphere it is easy to become defensive. In such a climate it would be easy to forget what we are about. Joseph’s brothers almost got caught in that. Listen to them trying to deny his accusation: "No, my lord; your servants have come to buy food. We are all sons of one man; we are honest men; your servants have never been spies." That borders on being defensive.
But what Joseph demanded from them is essentially what the world demands of us. What Joseph wanted is what is always expected of heaven’s spies. Joseph said, ’’’You are spies. Here is how you shall be tested: as Pharaoh lives, you shall not leave this place unless your youngest brother come here! Let one of you go and bring your brother, while the rest of you remain in prison, in order that your words may be tested, whether there is truth in you.’ And he put them all together in prison for three days."
What is Joseph asking? What does the world want of us? It wants personal investment. It wants us to risk ourselves. It wants us to put up something valuable. The world will believe we are on the Lord’s side only when we are prepared to put on the line something precious to us. Otherwise everything is just talk. Otherwise everything is sound and fury, signifying nothing.
"You shall be tested ... [put your] youngest brother ... here." Church, our deacons are precious to us; they are among our finest. We cherish them, we value them, and we would like to protect them. But we can’t. The world knows that we are spies. And it wants to know whose side we are really on. Are we double agents? Turncoats? Prove whose side you are on by investing someone precious. Invest your brothers and sisters. Deacons are our spies, out in the world to find out what the world is like, and tell us about it. Out in Egypt, not to spy out the nakedness of the land in order to destroy it, but to help us reach out to it.
Deacons are spies for heaven, on the Lord’s side. But that will cost. That will cost personal investment.
Deacons, do not be surprised if the world is suspicious of you. Of course it is. They are anxious out there. They don’t understand you. Why would anybody take on what deacons take on without pay or power or prestige? Surely you must be up to no good. Surely you must be out there to get something for yourselves. The world thinks you want to take its money; to scalp its souls; to force its respect. But you, deacons, are on the Lord’s side, and you are out there on our behalf, to spy for us. To learn for us what Egypt needs. To discern for us how we can give the anxious Josephs the good news. The only way you will be able to do it is to put yourselves, your comfort and your good name, on the line. The only way you will be able to spy is to be clear that you are on the Lord’s side, no one else’s, and that you can sacrifice something precious for that cause.
"Here is how you shall be tested: go, bring your brother, in order that [we may test] whether there is truth in you." You’ll have to invest something precious to prove you are on the Lord’s side.
II
Now, notice that Joseph’s demands threw this band of brothers into a real fit. What to do, what to do?! How could they possibly agree to such a demand?! Bring their youngest, their most vulnerable brother, and put him at the mercy of the Egyptian?! What would their father say? Wouldn’t it just about kill old Jacob? They deliberated. They struggled. This text sounds like some of those late night deacons’ meetings I’ve sat through. Deacon Reuben suggested they negotiate; maybe the man would settle for something else. Deacon Simeon volunteered to put up the money, if that would work. Deacon Chairman Judah, his face grim, made the decision. He said they’d better do what the man in power wanted, or else they would never get this thing over with. And so the brothers brought the young Benjamin back to Egypt with them. You know the story: how Joseph finally revealed his identity, and how there was wonderful reconciliation and joy.
But listen. Here’s a key item. At the last, Joseph, now convinced that his brothers were sincere and honest men, asked Pharaoh for permission for the whole family to move to Egypt. Could they live there and work there. Looking for green cards for his brothers! So Pharaoh asked Joseph, "What is [their] occupation?" Their response is, "Your servants are shepherds ... we have come to reside as aliens in the land and live as shepherds .... And Pharaoh said, "Let them live in the land, and if you know that there are capable men among them, put them in charge of my flocks."
If the world can see our integrity, it will want what we have to offer. If the world can feel our care, it will acknowledge our leadership. The world may not respond to our creeds and confessions, but it will respond to our servanthood. The world may not have room for spies of the glamorous kind, nor may it care to accommodate spies of the traitorous sort. But servants it needs, and servants it will embrace.
I’ve known a few spies in my time. Yes, I have, and so have you. We have church members who have worked in the CIA or the National Security Agency or the Secret Service. Spies, all of them! But you know what? None of them is Double-Oh-Seven, and none of them is dropping encrypted codes at a mailbox in Georgetown. None of them is into razzmatazz, and not one of them has stabbed a stiletto into a stooge! What they do is the everyday drudgery of reading reports, studying messages, analyzing data, and just being vigilant. You see, your average spy is neither a glamour guy nor a monster. Your average spy is a caring person who does his or her job quietly, effectively, thoroughly, day by day. Serving.
The world has room for spies like that. Spies who are servants at heart and who have come to stay and to serve. The world, like Pharaoh, is pleased to know that spies for Christ are willing to come, work diligently, and serve. And the world will at last say, with Pharaoh, "Let them live in the land, and if you know that there are capable men among them, put them in charge, in charge of my flocks."
Last fall, Baptist deacon Joe Lusi was suspected of spying. Lusi is a physician in Rwanda, right near the border where the refugees cross into Zaire. Joe Lusi is a Zairian, but the Baptist hospital is in Rwanda. Moreover, the government-run hospital across town had always been suspicious of this missionary hospital. What were they up to anyway? Could Dr. Lusi be trusted? On the night of October 30, the fighting came right to the door of the hospital, and there were many wounded people who needed attention. Most of the hospital staff had fled for safety, as you might well imagine. But Joe Lusi said to the few who remained, "If we are going to die, let us at least die doing our jobs." And so they set out to attend to the bruised and the battered. There was no water to sterilize surgical instruments, and no electricity to heat the water if they had it. But Lusi was not to be defeated. He sent villagers who could walk out to the wells to bring back water in mop buckets, bottles, anything they could find. And he rounded up every able-bodied man he could find and asked them to tear down the doors of the hospital and rip up the pews in the chapel, so that they could burn the wood and thus boil the water. Scores of lives were saved. Many were helped. And a week later, when the fighting subsided and the dust settled, the administrator of the government hospital came to Deacon Lusi and agreed that both hospitals would treat the wounded and serve the townspeople, together. Deacon Lusi may have been a spy, but he was a spy who stayed to serve.
Deacons, you are the spies who have stayed to serve. You are capable, servant-style, men and women. We now put you in charge of the flocks. Not to lord it over us. Not to be Double-Oh-Seven dashing, look-good, prancing about the place, but to serve. Not to sell us out to the world, nor to use us for selfish ends, but to serve. And we will receive you with joy, spies though you are. We will welcome you. You are the spies who stayed to serve.
