L’EGGO My EGGO
Also delivered as a sermon at Madison Avenue Baptist Church in New York City on October 27, 2024.
Last week during rush hour, I was walking up Madison Ave to an appointment. As can happen in New York City, when the light turned red a woman in a giant SUV whipped across the intersection to get through the light, then stopped dead in the middle of the crosswalk. Clearly, she owned 41st street. People almost had to walk into oncoming traffic to get around her.
Out of utter frustration, one of the pedestrians turned to her, scowled, and threw his hands in the air. The woman in the SUV then made the same gesture back but added the creative flair of forming the middle three fingers of one hand into a particular unpleasant shape. The pedestrian, never breaking his stride, then offered her two of the same shape. At which point, the woman copied his two shapes and then made them move like tiny little cannons.
This all happened in about a five-second span. And you know the craziest part? No one noticed or even cared. Their faces were like, “Oh yeah, there’s a crosswalk fight. Should I get a single espresso or a double?”
Are we surprised? Ego, selfishness, anger, violence—that’s the norm these days. As columnist Peggy Noonan put it, “People are proud of their bitterness now.” And it’s peaking with our upcoming election.
As a nation, we have been encouraged to hate, judge, and demean. There are no conversations to be had now. We all have our breastplate of righteousness cemented on with super-glue, and it ain’t coming off. We’ve been taught—through advertising, media, corporate greed, political discourse, and pervasive human example—to focus only on ourselves, to care about only what is ours. This mindset is everywhere—from people driving like they own the road, to people acting like they own the truth, to people acting like they own the world like the new international axes of power forming between all-powerful autocrats and dictators.
Let’s bring it down to a lighter image. To me, this is like that commercial for frozen Eggo Waffles. You remember that? The family is gathered around the toaster, and when the waffle pops out, they all grab it and yell “L’EGGO MY EGGO!” That pretty much captures our world down to the ground. ME! MINE! ME! MINE!
We have strayed from basic decency and moral treatment of each other and replaced it with the idols of ego, power, wealth, status, and selfishness. And God is understandably upset.
In fact, if I weren’t looking at today’s church bulletin that says at the top October 27, 2024, I’d swear we were back in Jerusalem in the sixth century BC with Jeremiah. You heard our scripture this morning. Jerusalem is under siege, and Jeremiah is in hiding with the rest of the citizens and leadership. And why are the people in this fix? They strayed from basic decency and moral treatment of each other and replaced God with their idols.
As God says in the book of Jeremiah, “The people of Israel and Judah have provoked me by all the evil they have done—they, their kings and officials, their priests and prophets, the people of Judah and those living in Jerusalem. They turned their backs to me and not their faces; though I taught them again and again, they would not listen or respond.”
GULP. Sound familiar?
And here’s where it gets really interesting. In this moment, when the Babylonians are literally about to pour over the gates of the city, burn it to the ground and kill or kidnap its citizens, Jeremiah decides to—wait for it—buy real estate.
Odd.
You would think he’d be buying a supply of bows and arrows or bottled water . . . but real estate? The scripture tells us that Jeremiah’s cousin Hanamel shows up and offers Jeremiah a field just a couple miles outside Jerusalem in a place called Anathoth. Basically, it’s the land where the Babylonian army is camped. This is kind of the sixth-century BC version of “I’ve got some swampland in Florida.” And yet, in verses 8 and 9, Jeremiah says, “I knew that this was the word of the Lord; so I bought the field.” Jeremiah goes on to say that God said to take the deed and bury it in a clay jar so it will last a long time, because “Houses, fields and vineyards will again be bought in this land.”
Houses, fields and vineyards will again be bought in this land.
Even though he couldn’t see it at the time, even though there was NO reason to believe things would ever get better, Jeremiah stood up, thought to himself, “I believe in God’s promise of a better day,” and bought that field.
This is one of the Bible’s most bold, brazen, and bizarre acts of faith: buying a field in the path of a massive advancing army as a statement of belief that better days are coming. But as bold of an example as this is, it’s also one about which it’s hard to preach. Where’s the practical application? Does this even work for us today? Well, yes, it does. Let’s start with a simple example.
Have you ever tried to lose weight and, as you were doing so, found this super cute pair of pants that was two sizes too small, but you bought it anyway because you had faith that you would one day be able to fit in them? Then you, my friend, have bought a field in the middle of a siege.
Have you ever raised a child in the middle of the terrible twos and made the brave choice to keep that child out of faith that there are better days to come? Then you’ve bought a field in the middle of a siege.
If you’ve gotten a cancer diagnosis and showed up for treatment month after month, even year after year, then you’ve bought a field in the middle of a siege.
If you walk into a voting booth on November 5th, then you’ll be buying a field in the middle of a siege.
This morning, this moment in history, is eerily close to that moment described in Jeremiah 32. America is hunkered down—besieged on all sides by violence, hatred, ego, and suspicion. So, here’s my question to all of us: Do we have the bold, brazen courage to claim a field of hope in the path of a massive army of despair?
Friends, as bad as things are, I, like Jeremiah, believe in God’s promise of a better day. If you’re with me, then let’s go find a field to buy. We must find opportunities for bold, brazen acts of faith in the face of destruction and despair.
Our friend the frozen Eggo waffle offers some insight. For years, it was advertised through that goofy commercial about people fighting over the waffle: “L’Eggo MY Eggo.” But recently, Eggo has been rebranded. There is a new campaign called “L’Eggo YOUR Eggo” that encourages people to share the frozen breakfast treat instead of keeping it to themselves.
I never thought I’d stand in this pulpit and say this, but I think the Madison Avenue marketing machine has finally gotten it right. In the face of destruction and despair, let’s do something bold and brazen. In a world that rewards selfishness, anger, violence, and suspicion, let’s do something bizarre and unexpected. Let’s claim a field of joy and kindness in the face of the army of despair.
Last week after I got caught in the fight on 41st Street, when it was time to come home, I thought it safer to take the train. As I sat down in the subway car, the conductor came on the intercom and said, “Hello, all you beautiful people who are my passengers . . . the next stop is 59th.”
Immediately, everyone looked up from what they were doing in alarm. My immediate thought was “OMG the train has been highjacked.” Eyes shifted back and forth. “What is happening?” “What does this mean?”
And then stop, by stop, he made the same announcement: “Hello, all you beautiful people who are my passengers . . . the next stop is 51st.” “Hello, all you beautiful people who are my passengers . . . the next stop is 42nd.”
Slowly, people started to calm down. Smile even. A few people looked at each other and laughed. And in that moment, it became so clear to me that we’ve forgotten what kindness feels like. We must remind people that they can dream past the pain.
We have a national election in just over a week. And the most important field you can claim on that day is to VOTE. But while voting is a critical, non-negotiable responsibility we all bear, it’s not our most important work. Our most important work comes the day after the election. And the day after that and the day after that.
No matter what happens, no matter where we are, no matter who is in power, no matter what circumstances we find ourselves in . . . day by day, minute by minute, choice by choice, we must buy our field, plant our seeds, and dream and work toward better days to come.
Speaking of dreaming about better days to come, I was recently watching an episode of The West Wing where there was a conversation around the images on the back of the US dollar bill. If you’ve ever looked at it closely, you know there is an unfinished pyramid with the eye of God looking over it and the words annuit coeptis: “He (GOD) favors our undertaking.” The seal is meant to be unfinished because this country is meant to be unfinished. We’re meant to keep doing better. As President Barak Obama urged, “The unfinished work of perfecting our union falls to each of us.”
Friends, the election is critically important, but our daily work—our individual daily work—each day, each choice — is what can truly change the long-term game. We can’t do it alone, and we might not even be able to do it in our lifetime, but like the children of Israel eventually returning to Jerusalem, those better days may well be seen by our children, by the next generation, if we start the work now.
I can’t help but think of the first two lines of the Crosby, Stills and Nash song “Teach Your Children Well”: “You who are on the road. Must have a code that you can live by . . . Teach your children well.”
The bravest, most brazen act of faith we can manifest, the most obvious field we can claim in the face of the onslaught, is to teach our next generation how to live moral and selfless lives so that they will experience, not just dream about, that better world to come.
I leave you with this: Many of you may remember that a few weeks ago, I asked our congregation to sign a card to First Baptist Church of Springfield, Ohio. That church has welcomed a large Haitian population into its family and, as you may recall, the Haitian people in Springfield have been the target of vile rhetoric and accusations. We mailed that card three weeks ago, and this week, we got a thank you . . . from the children. It was a simple one-line note with four little names scrawled on it.
“Thank you. -Metzer, Sephora, James, Sarah.”
Friends, I believe in a better day.
So, let’s go claim our field.
Who’s with me?