DO NOT FORGET
God of our fathers, known of old – Lord of our far flung battle line
Beneath whose awful hand we hold dominion over palm and pine
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, lest we forget - lest we forget!
About 100 years ago, the British poet Rudyard Kipling saw into the future and wrote a poem called “Recessional.” It was written during the height of British imperial power. As the saying went, “the sun never sets on the British Empire.” Her power and influence covered the globe. It had mostly been spread by force. British armies and navies were the best in the world, and trade and political reforms followed in their wake. In many ways their rule was benign, especially when compared to some the other conquests history has recorded. The British put a lid on cannibalism in Africa, stopped the practice of suttee - that is, burning widows alive on their husbands’ funeral pyres - in India - and were the first nation on earth to make slave trading illegal. But it was still power, it was still imposed by force, and all too often it was power exercised in pride and greed rather than in humility and service. And Kipling knew that their power would come to an end. Because all power comes to an end, except the power of God. But the British did forget.
The tumult and the shouting dies – the Captains and the Kings depart
Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice, an humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, lest we forget lest we forget!
By the end of WWII, Britain had lost most of her far-flung empire . . . and her identity as a Christian nation as well. There was a brief revival in the years immediately following the war, but in the 21st century, although a majority still call themselves Christians, only 50% of those actually believe in God, and Sunday church attendance is down to 6%. Which came first? The loss of faith, or the loss of empire? I do not know. But I do know that with success comes loss of dependence on God. Moses knew that, and warned the Israelites as he was preparing them to cross over the Jordan and build a country.
Take care that you do not forget the LORD your God, by failing to keep his commandments, his ordinances, and his statutes, which I am commanding you today. When you have eaten your fill and have built fine houses and live in them, and when your herds and flocks have multiplied, and your silver and gold is multiplied, and all that you have is multiplied, then do not exalt yourself, forgetting the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery. [De 8:11-14]
America has power, too. We can’t help it. We’re rich - in land, in raw materials, in people - in virtually every material asset you can name. We have the best armed forces in the world. People risk their lives to come here, and clamor to imitate our lifestyle from blue jeans to IPODS. We are successful beyond the wildest imaginings of our ancestors. The poorest of our poor are plutocrats compared to the peasant in Kazakhstan or Djibouti. But most of our population has no idea that we owe it all to God. We have forgotten. Even people who call themselves Christian, and follow Jesus to the extent of their knowledge, do not know that we owe everything we have to our benevolent - more than benevolent - our lavish God. And because of that, we may not survive as a people when our power fades. Which it will, because all power fades, except that which is built on obedience to God.
Far called our navies melt away – on dune and headland sinks the fire
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday is one with Nineveh and Tyre!
Judge of the Nations, spare us yet, lest we forget lest we forget!
The book of Deuteronomy is basically Moses’ commentary on the Exodus and the history of the people whom God had brought out of slavery in Egypt. They’re probably jumping out of their sandals with eagerness to cross over into Canaan and take possession of the land of milk and honey which God had promised so long ago and which had been dangling in front of their eyes for forty years. And what does Moses do? He stops them in their tracks and makes them look back. Moses calls them to remembrance. Because out of remembrance comes obedience, and out of obedience comes safety. Protection. Confidence. Peace, and justice, and abundance without end.
Some people think that this part of the book is sort of boring, because it’s a repetition of some of the rules and regulations for worship which God had prescribed for the Hebrew people. And some people think that it’s not only boring, it’s irrelevant, because we don’t have the tabernacle or the temple, after all, and most of us aren’t farmers or herdsmen, so what has it got to do with us?
Each one of the ceremonies God called the Israelites to observe is a rite of remembrance. Each one turns the attention of the people away from their own success and wealth and plans for the future back to the God who gave it to them, and who calls them into a covenant relationship with him. Particularly this one, which is the celebration of the “first fruits.”
It reminded the people that it was YHWH who provided the rain, the soil the germination and the growth, not the Canaanite fertility God Baal or even their own hard work. The Israelites knew that, strictly speaking, the whole harvest belonged to YHWH, but they also knew that he had given it to them for their sustenance and didn’t expect an unreasonable share in return. Mind you, this offering did not take the place of their obligation to be generous to the poor among them; it was for the upkeep of the temple and the support of the priests and Levites, who had no land of their own. And this first ceremony is recorded as a guide and reminder to future generations how and why they are to give back to God a token to recognize his mighty deeds on their behalf.
And every time they turn back to God in remembrance and gratitude they are starting over. Every harvest is a new beginning, a time to get back to the basics, to correct errors and wanderings from the God-centered life YHWH had called them - and still calls us - to. These rituals, these recitations, these gifts connect the Israelites’ past with their present and set them on the path to a God-centered future. To keep faithful to their faithful God they set aside time to remember. They must regularly turn their attention back to God, up to God, forward to God to keep their side of the covenant agreement.
“My father was a wandering Aramean,” says the text. Some of us know the stories of our ancestors, some of us don’t. But how many of your ancestors were immigrants? Mine were, even though most of them were here before George Washington was a twinkle in his father’s eye. Some of us are first or second generation Americans. But all of us can claim Washington and Franklin and Jefferson as our common fathers. Adopted children are nonetheless members of the family. And so no one is barred from our 4th of July, Thanksgiving, and Presidents’ Day remembrances just because they’re newbies.
But do we realize how crucial these ritual acts of remembrance are to maintaining our identity as a people? Moses - and God - knew how easy it was to forget, and so they wrote these celebrations into the very fabric of their lives. No matter how many centuries might pass, every Jew saw the patriarchs as their fathers. Even now, with many Jews clinging more to their history than to their faith, they know themselves as a distinct people because they have not allowed themselves to forget.
Right along with the instructions for the offering goes a summary of salvation history. As they give their offerings to the priest, each person remembers aloud not only that had God rescued them in the past, but that he continues to rescue and provide in the present. Words and offerings go together. Praise and words of remembrance are necessary - but they are sealed into memory with acts, with gifts from hearts overflowing with gratitude. In fact, they are the only possible response to the overflowing goodness of God. Praise without gifts are empty words, at best.
And harvest festivals are universal. A good crop was never taken for granted. Even today we depend on a good harvest. While we here in America can certainly feed ourselves, there are a lot of things we don’t grow here. Think coffee and bananas, think Coke (the kind you drink). Think chocolate! None of these would be available if someone elsewhere in the world wasn’t busy growing and harvesting these crops. While the ancient Israelites could get food from foreign countries - remember that’s what took them to Egypt in the first place - they likely wouldn’t have the money to buy it. Americans are in a whole lot better shape should our crops fail. But the prices go up, and sometimes the quality goes down. The year after Katrina I couldn’t get a decent red grapefruit all winter. But we hardly depend on our own harvests as the ancient Israelites did. So a good harvest was far more than an excuse for a party.
“The Lord loves a cheerful giver,” [2 Cor 9:7] says Paul in his letter to the Corinthians. Not only does he love a cheerful giver, but I’m pretty sure he’s not to happy with a grumpy one. “You shall rejoice,” says our text, but another translation says “You ?shall make merry!” The harvest festival was more than a party - but it was a party.
Our own modern equivalent of the “harvest” is called payday. This is the day when we reap the fruits of our labor, even if it’s in “currency” rather than in corn. Do we party on payday? Some of us do, but in the wrong way. This text reminds us that before we pay our debts and before we put a little away for a rainy day and well before we play, we are to offer a healthy portion to the Lord. The Scriptures recommend a tenth, which is what the word “tithe” means. Now, we needn’t become like the Pharisees and agonize over whether we should tithe from our gross or our net; we should instead remember what God has done and let our hearts and hands overflow in return. And the reason we give from the top of our earnings, rather than from the bottom, is that any other pattern puts God at the back of the line, our offering a mere sop to pay him off just in case he’s counting. And we also put God at the head of the line because we want the rest of our money - and what we do with it - to be just as holy, just as dedicated, to God’s purposes as were our first fruits. Our offerings demonstrate what we think of God.
The prophet Malachi rebuked the Israelites in the last book of the Old Testament:
"A son honors his father, and servants their master. If then I am a father, where is the honor due me? And if I am a master, where is the respect due me? says the LORD of hosts to you . . . When you offer blind animals in sacrifice, is that not wrong? And when you offer those that are lame or sick, is that not wrong? Try presenting that to your governor; will he be pleased with you or show you favor? says the LORD of hosts.” [Mal 1:6-8]
Why is this important? Does God need our stuff? Our wheat and our olives, our dollars and cents? Of course not! Hear his words: “Every wild animal of the forest ismine, the cattle on a thousand hills. I know all the birds of the air, and all that moves in the field is mine. "If I were hungry, I would not tell you, for the world and all that is in it is mine. Do I eat the flesh of bulls, or drink the blood of goats? Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving, and pay your vows to the Most High.”” [Ps 50:10-14] We do not offer our first fruits to God because he needs it. We offer our best because we need it. We need to be the kind of people for whom this part of our relationship with God gives deep joy and satisfaction.
This story is, of course, about gratitude. But at the root of gratitude is remembrance. How can we be grateful for what we cannot remember? How can we belong to a God we do not know? We are called to lay our offerings before God as a communal act of remembrance. Because without remembrance strong enough to call forth from us the response of thanksgiving and obedience we will surely perish.
This is the Old Testament reading for the first Sunday of Lent. With this text we begin a season which stresses repentance. But how can we repent if we do not remember? Even more importantly, why should we repent if we do not remember?
Lent is an opportunity to begin again. This is the time to remember who we are. And we are a people who “do not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord.“ It is the word of God that forms us. And it is a different bread that feeds us.
Americans are the most powerful people in the world. We are the richest people in the world. We are the most influential people in the world. And if we do not use that power in obedience to God it will be taken away from us. I am not talking about politics. I am not talking about our Middle East policy or globalization or any of the other things that raise our temperatures during our eternal political wranglings. I am talking about the core of our lives, our identity as a people under God.
If, drunk with sight of power, we loose wild tongues that have not Thee in awe,
Such boastings as the Gentiles use, or lesser breeds without the Law,
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, lest we forget lest we forget!
For heathen heart that puts her trust in reeking tube and iron shard
All valiant dust that builds on dust, and guarding calls not Thee to guard.
For frantic boast and foolish word, thy Mercy on Thy People, Lord!
