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If you asked me to choose a story from the Bible on Justice, the murder of Naboth so Ahab can have his land probably wouldn’t have been my first choice. Seasons of the Spirit labels this Sunday “The Voice of Justice”—but we have to live through some horrific events before there is even a hint that there might be justice. Spoiler alert—God does eventually turn things around.
But it is a depressing story. King Ahab looks out the window of his summer palace and wants land belonging to another. He offers Naboth money or a swap of land, but Naboth refuses. It is hard for us in this day and age to understand these competing interests. Ahab represents the “new” way of monarchy, centralized authority, hierarchy. He feels if he wants something, he should be able to take it (or at least this is what Jezebel says). Naboth, on the other hand, represents the “old” way, where tribes and their descendants were given acreage as they divided up “the Promised Land.” The land was almost sacred, a gift passed from father to son on and on. It was your status, it was your life. Ahab, in trying to acquire the land, acts as if none of this were true.
And Jezebel goes one further—if Naboth says “over my dead body” will I give up my land, that is exactly what she is going to engineer. And in the retelling of this story in 2 Kings, it appears that Jezebel may have had not just Naboth killed but his whole family tree annihilated to get what she wanted.
Now as we are righteously condemning this evil duo, we need to confess the similarity of this scenario with what has gone on in countless places around the world where indigenous peoples have been cheated out of their rights, pushed farther and farther from their “inheritance,” or just outright slaughtered to make way for the new people in power. There is a little bit of Ahab in all of us.
It got me to thinking. How does justice prevail? Is it certain that as the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. quoted “the arc of the moral universe is long, and it bends towards justice”? Is justice something we can just wait for, because eventually it will appear? Or does it require something from us?
The prophets of ancient Israel were to be the voice of justice, the voice of the silenced, the voice of the poor, the voice of the outcast, the voice of GOD. It was their job to raise up concern, to charge all around with changing their lives and their actions.
Ahab knew he had done wrong. But he would have gotten away with it—maybe the story wouldn’t even have been told, except for Elijah. It is so telling that Ahab says to Elijah, “Have you found me, O my enemy?” It is almost as if Elijah is Ahab’s conscience. Elijah is the voice of who Ahab could be, if he chose. When Ahab shirks his kingly responsibility (which was to care for his subjects, to keep them safe, to provide for them)—there is Elijah. Looking. Seeing. Disapproving. Calling him out. Not going away. Elijah, being what he was called to be: the voice of Justice, the voice of GOD.
I think you can probably guess where I am going. This may be a story from long ago, but there are still Ahabs and Naboths today. There are still conniving Jezebels (male and female I would add). We are called to be like Elijah—vigilant in seeing cases of injustice. We are called to be like Elijah—a thorn in the side of those who do not care for others as they should. We are called to be like Elijah—taking our cues from God rather than anyone or anything else.
This may lead us to be more vocal about what we believe in. It may lead us to want to be more aware of how things work in our world, and who is profiting. It may lead us into places not so familiar, ask things of us that are uncomfortable.
And what do we get out of it? For our answer I think of the image of the woman from Luke. She wasn’t wanted in that place. I’m sure she had to endure looks and under breath comments (and they talk about her with Jesus as if she weren’t in their midst). But she wanted to DO something. So she, like the widow in last week’s story, gave what she had. She ignored everyone else and focused on Jesus. She cried tears to wet Jesus’ dirty feet, and washed them, drying them with her hair. She kissed them and then put ointment on them. She cared for him.
What do we get out of listening to the voice of Justice in our lives? We get to be near Jesus. We get to shed tears that can help clean away the grime. We get to get to bring balm to those in pain. We get to hear his pronouncement, “Your sins are forgiven… Your faith has saved you; go in peace.”
What an exciting, wondrous, awesome thing—
To be asked, no commanded, to DO justice, as well as LOVE mercy, while WALKING humbly with our God. So our prayer today is--May we be more like Elijah. And May God help us to find our own voice as we answer that call.
May it be so. Alleluia, Amen.
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