Scripture Luke 4:1-13
Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over, he was famished. The devil said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread.” Jesus answered him, “It is written, ‘One does not live by bread alone.’” Then the devil led him up and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. And the devil said to him, “To you I will give their glory and all this authority; for it has been given over to me, and I give it to anyone I please. If you, then, will worship me, it will all be yours.” Jesus answered him, “It is written, ‘Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him.’” Then the devil took him to Jerusalem, and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, for it is written, ‘He will command his angels concerning you, to protect you,’ and ‘On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’”Jesus answered him, “It is said, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’” When the devil had finished every test, he departed from him until an opportune time. A Word of God that is still speaking, Thanks be to God. Thoughts about an Imperfect Life and Faith “Ordinary lives can be holy.” There’s a little ritual in our house that we taught Michael and now Genevieve is catching on to in her own cute little way. Whenever we watch television and a commercial pops up, we say “boo, advertisements!” It may be silly, but if you think about it, ads are designed to get you to want something or buy into something that you may not actually really need. Or, it presents you with a certain lifestyle that can be achieved - if only you subscribe to this service or purchase this product. Want a carefree life of travel in your old age? Get there with our investment service. Want to be popular? Drink this brand of beer. Want your house to be perpetually clean? Or do you want to make cleaning fun? This brand of products will transform your life. Want freedom and adventure? Just drive this car. Ads don’t just sell us a product, they’re selling us a lifestyle. Values. Hopes and dreams. Oftentimes, these aspirations - belonging, predictability and security, spontaneity, freedom - are things that we are already yearning for. Hungry for. And whatever product or service is lifted up as providing us the key to finding what we’re looking for. We find ourselves hungry for many things that we believe will bring us satisfaction. In our story from scripture this morning, we see Jesus out in the wilderness - he was led there while he was full of the Holy Spirit and after his baptism by John. He spent 40 days having eaten nothing - and during that time was tempted by the devil - which wasn’t a bearded fellow dressed in red carrying a pitchfork as we commonly think of the devil or Satan, but rather a figure which in the Jewish tradition would have been understood as the “opponent” or “adversary” - a figure used to represent the forces that often make it difficult for human beings to submit to divine will. “The tester” might be a better understanding of how the devil operates here rather than modern conceptions of The Devil. The devil comes and thinks Jesus would jump at the chance for instant fame and glory and to give in to the quick fix - he offers Jesus the things his heart wants. He’s hungry after all, with no food in the wilderness. Surely using his divine gift to turn a stone into bread would satisfy his belly. Having authority over all the kingdoms surely would have advanced Jesus’s purposes so much more easily than a ragtag band of misfit disciples and one-off healings and teaching in parables that were so often misunderstood. A chance to be saved from falling by angels in a spectacle that all Jerusalem would have seen? What a miraculous way to reveal his identity. I mean - wouldn’t all these things have done wonders for the message that Jesus sent to proclaim? What the devil offers here aren’t things that are bad in and of themselves. But what the devil gets at is whether Jesus will serve himself - seek the fame and the glory with himself at the center - or if Jesus will serve God, using the ordinary and mundane to build a movement of peace, righteousness, and holiness in the everyday. We all face our fair share of temptations - and I’m not talking about wanting that extra slice of cake for dessert...or even the temptation of buying those new kitchen cabinets that will make your Whole Life more organized (and I’m definitely not preaching to myself there at all…) I’m talking about the temptations that we think would make our life perfect or more special or outwardly great or that would prop up the image of ourselves we want other people to see - the drive for more being a prime example of this that manifests itself in all aspects of our life, or the desire to fulfill and inflate my own ego needs over and above those of others - even God’s. It shows up in small and innocent ways - checking out the number of likes on your most recent social media post (and who liked it and who didn’t) thinking that it gives you a sense of belonging and community, believing if only you made more money it would solve all your problems or save your marriage or give you the freedom and security to pursue your desires, or wanting to be the best parent…or the best friend…or the best in your field…or the best teacher/therapist/lawyer/athlete…and receive all the recognition and praise and accolades for what you do. Again - these things aren’t bad in and of themselves - but are you doing it for a false image of how you want others to see you - or does it come out of your authentic self? I can look back on times in my life where I clearly operated out of the former rather than the latter - where I thought my work in church planting and the spiritual pioneering Ben and I were doing in developing faith communities in re-imagined ways was going to spark a revival within the greater church - that what we were doing and the way we were going about it would be heralded as models to follow, and that this - along with the work of other pastoral entrepreneurs - would be The Thing that would save United Methodism from decline. I have long since let go of any illusions of greatness there. Or I think about the pressure of social media - I read Nadia Bolz-Weber’s article from 6 months ago this week, and she talks about this reality that we find most prevalent on social media that really resonates with me - and it happens not just on Facebook or Twitter, but in the course of everyday conversation too - where it feels like you’re expected to constantly on top of every single injustice in the world - she puts it as the voices that say “if you aren’t talking about, doing something about, performatively posting about ___(fill in the blank)___then you are an irredeemably callous, privileged, bigot who IS PART OF THE PROBLEM”...which leaves her wondering: “am I doing enough, sacrificing enough, giving enough, saying enough about all the horrible things right now to think of myself as a good person and subsequently silence the accusing voice in my head? No. The answer is always no. No I am not. Nor could I. Because no matter what I do the goal of “enough” is just as far as when I started.” The temptations are many - We are tempted by greatness. By self-importance. We’re tempted to internalize other people’s expectations and image of who we are - or maybe we’re tempted to disregard other people’s opinions entirely. And yet what Jesus clung to in his trial in the wilderness, when he was tempted by greatness and shortcuts, was a complete certainty in who he was and what he was about…his place and purpose in God’s unfolding dream - and for him, that was good enough. It makes me think about the story of Brother Lawrence who lived in the 17th century in France. Born into poverty, as a teenager he became a soldier and during that time in the army, as he fought in the Thirty Years war, he had a spiritual awakening. Upon leaving the army at the age of 26, he joined the monastery of the Discalced Carmelites where he found the holy in the ordinary work of cooking and cleaning. He’s the one you may have heard stories about peeling potatoes for the glory of God. “The Practice of the Presence of God” was compiled of his sayings, letters, and conversations with the other monks and was published after he died. One of his sayings: "Nor is it needful that we should have great things to do. . . . We can do little things for God. I turn the cake that is frying on the pan for the love of Him; and that done, if there is nothing else to call me, I prostrate myself in worship before Him Who has given me grace to work. Afterwards I rise happier than a king." It was said of him that he "forgot himself and was willing to lose himself for God, That he no longer thought of virtue or his salvation ... that he had always governed himself by love without interest.” There’s grace in knowing who you are - your role, your limitations, your boundaries - in not giving in to the temptations to be something greater. That isn’t to say we don’t have dreams and visions - but it’s about what drives those aspirations - an interest in the self and our own image or for the sake of something greater? It’s about knowing what is ours to do - and what isn’t - and in trusting that God moves through all that we do, drawing things together for the unfolding of God’s purposes in the world. It’s about believing - down to our core - that God works in our ordinary lives - in the small selfless acts, in the moments we may not think are important, in the connections we foster, in the moments of silence we cultivate - all of it is vibrant with God breaking in to our existence over and over and over again - and that is what makes our lives holy…and that is what gives us the ability to be good enough - trusting that we do our part, we do what we are called and invited and challenged by God to do, and that God will be faithful in weaving our actions into the greater tapestry of peace and hope and justice in our world. I want to close by sharing one of my favorite poems called Famous, by Naomi Shibab Nye - because for me it captures this idea of holiness being related to who we are in our fundamental core - people capable of connection and creating space in the midst of our everyday interactions for God to break in. She writes: Famous BY NAOMI SHIHAB NYE The river is famous to the fish. The loud voice is famous to silence, which knew it would inherit the earth before anybody said so. The cat sleeping on the fence is famous to the birds watching him from the birdhouse. The tear is famous, briefly, to the cheek. The idea you carry close to your bosom is famous to your bosom. The boot is famous to the earth, more famous than the dress shoe, which is famous only to floors. The bent photograph is famous to the one who carries it and not at all famous to the one who is pictured. I want to be famous to shuffling men who smile while crossing streets, sticky children in grocery lines, famous as the one who smiled back. I want to be famous in the way a pulley is famous, or a buttonhole, not because it did anything spectacular, but because it never forgot what it could do. May we in this season lean into God’s movement in our lives, making the ordinary moments one of divine presence and holiness, trusting that our openness to the movement of the spirit makes our efforts “good enough” because God makes up the rest. May we not be tempted by perfection or grandiose ideas that serve ourselves, but may we be reminded of Jesus who took no shortcuts, who - even in all his divine power - used ordinary people to transform the world. May we find grace and hope in that truth this season. Amen.
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Luke 9:28-43 (New Revised Standard Version)28Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. 29And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white. 30Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. 31They appeared in glory and were speaking of his departure, which he was about to accomplish at Jerusalem. 32Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep; but since they had stayed awake, they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. 33Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, “Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah” —not knowing what he said. 34While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them; and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. 35Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” 36When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.
37On the next day, when they had come down from the mountain, a great crowd met him. 38Just then a man from the crowd shouted, “Teacher, I beg you to look at my son; he is my only child. 39Suddenly a spirit seizes him, and all at once he shrieks. It convulses him until he foams at the mouth; it mauls him and will scarcely leave him. 40I begged your disciples to cast it out, but they could not.” 41Jesus answered, “You faithless and perverse generation, how much longer must I be with you and bear with you? Bring your son here.” 42While he was coming, the demon dashed him to the ground in convulsions. But Jesus rebuked the unclean spirit, healed the boy, and gave him back to his father. 43And all were astounded at the greatness of God. Sermon If I’ve ever had a conversation with you about television or movies, there is something you will find out very quickly about me in the course of our discussion. I cannot do violent movies. I don’t mean action movies, where there is stylized violence and explosions and fight scenes - like what you would find in the Marvelverse or Star Wars or the Lord of the Rings. I’m talking the gory stuff - the gratuitous stuff - the over-the-top-was-it-really-necessary-to-the-plot-to-show-that stuff. It’s the reason I will never watch Game of Thrones even though I read most of the books. Whenever Ben and I sit down in a rare moment to watch television, especially if it’s something that Ben has watched before and I haven’t, I close my eyes and make him tell me when it’s ok to open them again. Because for me, once I see something like that, it gets burned into my brain. I don’t want to get desensitized to that kind of violence. It’s not something that’s easy to unsee. I’ve been watching this with Michael as well, as he watches movies with his friends; he’s extremely sensitive to scenes of peril - even scenes that as an adult I might label as innocuous. But he’s got a vivid imagination and even the assurance that it all works out in the end doesn’t bring him comfort in the moment. Once you see something, it becomes really hard to unsee it, no matter how hard you try. I’ve been thinking a lot about the past two years of the pandemic, and just how much it has revealed about our society. Almost two years ago, when the world stopped, it felt like the entire planet, from the wildlife creeping into cities to humans in their homes to the very sky itself, was catching a breath as we witnessed the terrible unfolding of this novel coronavirus creep into our consciousnesses. We saw hospitals fill up (several times over these two years, with waves and surges striking throughout our country). We saw millions of people on unemployment. We talked about the “new normal” with varying degrees of horror and uncertainty, wondering if this will ever end, and what life on the other side would look like. There were moments of incredible beauty in this season as we witnessed the resilience of the human spirit - watching as Italian neighbors sang to each other in the midst of lockdown across their balconies. We saw people finding ways to connect with their loved ones, through new technology and hand-written letters and plastic sleeves designed for sanitized hugs. We saw meals cooked for sick friends, for healthcare workers, and parades for birthdays and graduations. We practiced gratitude, we started taking mental health seriously, we found meaningful ways to give and receive hope - and in the midst of the space - this great pause - some of us may even have caught a vision for what life might be like if we didn’t have the relentless hustle and pressure to perform…to succeed…to make ends meet…to feel like we’re just getting by. Layer on to all of this what we’ve witnessed when it comes to racial tensions in our country - the brutal violence inflicted upon Black bodies and Asian-Americans that we just don’t hear about but can actually witness with cell phone camera footage. Or the continual silencing of Indigenous voices. Or the deep economic disparity between those who have enormous wealth - like how the top 1% wealthiest individuals in the US hold nearly a third of all wealth in the US - and those who work two jobs and are still unable to afford housing. Or how we are at a tipping point globally with how we address climate devastation - a crisis that impacts every single human being living on this planet. There are things that we’ve seen this year that we cannot unsee; truths that we cannot unknow. And yet, we - as a society - are still desperately trying to get back to normal - back to our lives, back to business-as-usual, back to the daily grind, because at a systemic level, we want to forget how much these past couple years revealed about both the brokenness of our society and how much potential we have for something greater. I think many of us feel that pressure and are finding it difficult to implement the lessons we’ve learned about ourselves and the world during the pandemic as we get drawn back into the rhythm of unchecked progress. I see this tension reflected so much in our Gospel text for this morning - a story known as the Transfiguration - where Jesus takes his closest disciples up the mountain to pray and before their very eyes, Jesus changes, dazzling white light, Moses and Elijah show up, they talk about what’s going to happen in Jerusalem - spoiler alert, it’s the crucifixion, and the disciples want to set up camp. A cloud descends, which terrifies the disciples, and a voice booms out “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him.” They all walk down the mountain, tell no one what happened, watch Jesus get frustrated when a man asks him to cast a spirit out of his son and mentions that Jesus’ disciples were unable to do it, see Jesus heal the child in the midst of one of his episodes, and “all were astounded at the greatness of God.” This happens a little more than a week after Peter realizes who Jesus is as the Messiah and after the disciples hear Jesus himself talking about his suffering, rejection, death before he rises again. That’s some pretty spectacular stuff - yes, we have some hard truths about what will happen to Jesus - and we also have legends out of Jewish history appearing out of thin air, demons exorcized right in the midst of the crowds, and God’s literal voice echoing off the mountain - and still….the disciples miss the mark. They check out…they disengage…they see the fullness of who Jesus is before them and they struggle to make sense of what that means. The rush back to the familiar is seductive, and although once you’ve seen something - really, truly, seen it - it’s hard to unsee….it’s far easier to pretend it never happened - to not speak of it, to not think of it, to not mention it, and pretend instead that everything is normal. (If I had seen Encanto, I might at this point make reference to the song “We Don’t Talk About Bruno” but I haven’t, so I won’t). Our Epiphany season started with Jesus proclaiming the year of the Lord’s favor, and that what was foretold from Isaiah - release to the captives, the freedom of prisoners, recovery of sight to the blind - had been fulfilled with his presence. The season ends with this dazzling transfiguration and divine revelation, with the foreshadowing of the cross drawing nearer on the horizon. We talk about mountaintop experiences - times that have changed our lives or moments of divine clarity and presence where we understand ourselves in who we are and all our belovedness and worth - and yet how many of us struggle putting those moments of clarity into practice in the midst of the mundane? How many of us get lured back into the comfort of familiar patterns of behavior and ways of being even when we know they aren’t healthy for us or good for the earth or what we ultimately yearn for - why is transformation so hard? We live in that complex tension between the systems of the world - and our desire for their transformation - and how we carry ourselves and live the values of God’s reign in on own hearts as we, too, as creatures ever being transformed into the likeness of divine love incarnate - Christlike in our own uniquely formed ways. We, too, when confronted with the reality of our world - in all its harshness and all its beauty - when we have that clarity of vision it can be tempting to feel overwhelmed and fall back on familiar patterns of knowing and behaving - like the disciples - in order to avoid the pain, in order to avoid engagement, in order to avoid transformation. Yet once the curtain is pulled back, once what was hidden becomes revealed, once we see - we cannot unsee - and we have a choice to live a life in light of that truth or pull back into one of falsehood. It’s scary and daunting, because change is hard. It involves renegotiating priorities in our lives, it means dying to things in our lives that aren’t aligned with God’s hopes and dreams, it means shifting patterns of behavior and reevaluating relationships and changing our spending habits or our working habits. It means our own embracing the cross and staying present to our suffering - not in a gratuitous or abusive way - and to the suffering of others and of the world. In the transfiguration, we see God’s glory and fullness - a vision of light and hope that dazzles our imaginations - and we also see the nearness and presence and accessibility of God in Christ. We see how close God draws near to humankind and all our suffering, which allows us to encounter God anew and empowers us to do likewise. We open ourselves to our own transfiguration, knowing that the change is slow, that it’s a journey where we companion each other along, and which gives us strength as we engage with the suffering we see, as we engage with the potential there is to be, as we enter into the transformation of our hearts and of our world. We’ve seen a lot over the past couple of years. We can’t unsee it. We can’t unlearn the lessons we’ve discovered about ourselves, the world, the depth and meaning of human connection, the hope so many have of a world made new. We read the signs of the world around us and engage with it as Christ leads us, for we know he goes with us both on the mountaintop and in the valley, and may we keep our eyes open and choose the work of transformation, both in our lives and in our world. Amen. Scripture Luke 6:27-38
Luke 6:27-38, New Revised Standard Version 27“But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, 28bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. 29If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. 30Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again. 31Do to others as you would have them do to you. 32“If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. 33If you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. 34If you lend to those from whom you hope to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to receive as much again. 35But love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return. Your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High; for he is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. 36Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful. 37“Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven; 38give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap; for the measure you give will be the measure you get back.” Sermon About a month ago, somebody sent me a NYT opinion piece written by David Brooks - America is Falling Apart at the Seams - and it was the first thing that came to my mind when I read the scripture text for this morning. I tried to go back and reread the article to refresh my memory on the subject - maybe I need to get a digital subscription! But the article was very much an exploration of what we’re seeing unravel before our very eyes - trust in overarching institutions is eroding - and we see it play out in the social sphere with how we treat each other. There’s a reason you never read the comments section on an article posted on Facebook. We’re so quick to label people as enemies in our world. The one who was rude to me on Facebook. The one who disagrees with me about vaccinations. The one who cut me off in traffic. The one who has a wrong stance about x, y, z issue. The organization who supports whatever organization I take offense to. The one who - you name it. And this is all on top of the interpersonal conflicts that crop up in all relationships - in our families and friendships and work-relationships - when people hurt and wound us, knowingly or not. Liz Goodman, a UCC pastor in Massachusetts, had this to say in the Christian Century a couple weeks ago, reflecting on how the pandemic has exacerbated so much of this: “Life used to be about ordinary, daily interactions that, in many ways, were mildly abrasive. You’re pulling out of a parking space, and someone mindlessly walks behind your car—so you stop and wave the person on, though you’re pressed for time. You’re waiting in line at the library, and someone comes up to ask a “quick question” of the librarian that makes your wait a little longer. All those mild abrasions made us, if not tough, then tolerant. Yielding to one another used to be woven into our days and lives to such a degree that we might barely have noticed doing it: ordinary grace. But the pandemic and its social isolation have put us out of practice of bumping up against one another in regular ways. We’ve become so tender as to be almost intolerant, easily triggered by the slightest sleight. Kids in school are fighting, even with other kids they’ve known for years. Adults in public are unable to keep their composure even over issues with the lowest stakes. The trauma of the pandemic, where it hasn’t wrought death, crisis, or ever more pronounced precarity, has been sneaky for its slowness.” Our natural impulse is to step away, disengage from the relationship. If it was a personal offense, we’re tempted to hold a grudge. Or retaliate in some way. Boycott -- or, nowadays, cancel. We get into fight, flight, freeze, or fawn mode. This ugliness in our society transcends political party. It transcends ideology. It even transcends religious affiliation. And into that mess come Jesus’ words: But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, 28bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. 30Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again. 31Do to others as you would have them do to you. 36Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful. 37“Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven; 38give, and it will be given to you. All these commands hinge upon how we understand one word: love. Love your enemies. The word in Greek used here is “agape” which gets translated as love - but it’s not romantic love, or platonic love, or warm-fuzzy love. It’s not about liking someone else or your emotional state towards them. It oftentimes is described as “unconditional love” or “love without strings attached” but even that doesn't wholly get at the meaning. Agape love means more like “whole-hearted, unreserved, unconditional desire for the well-being of the other.” (https://www.holytextures.com/2013/01/luke-6-27-38-year-c-epiphany-7-february-18-february-24-sermon.html) The beautiful thing about this is that there’s no calculation of costs or benefit, no expectation of receiving anything from them, no end goal for our benefit, no transaction - only desiring well-being for the other for their own good. You don’t have to like the other person. You don’t have to agree with them or approve of their behaviors - you may find what they stand for grates your bones - but agape for your enemies isn’t about what they can give you, it’s about desiring wholeness for them. And if you agape your enemies, the ways you express and respond to them will also be an outflowing of your desire for their wholeness and well-being. It also means you can be hurt…you can be angry…you can be wounded and decide that you can’t be in relationship with someone anymore…and still practice agape with them - you can still desire and act out of a place where you want the best and wholeness for them. Now, forgiving someone who cut you off on the highway is different than forgiving the friend who betrayed your trust - and neither one might fully fit the definition of “enemy” in the same way that Jesus used it - those who try to actively harm and oppress you, like masters and soldiers in his day. Even so, what Jesus offers is a path forward involving wholeness for all people - enemies included - in exposing and naming harm. But forgiveness doesn’t mean all is suddenly rosy and well. It’s not about pretending the offense didn’t happen, that you aren’t angry or sad or hurt about the harm done. It’s not about allowing yourself to be abused or mistreated - which is often how these verses are used, especially when it comes to domestic abuse. Forgiveness doesn’t always mean the relationship is restored and back to “normal”. Forgiveness also isn’t a band-aid to instantly fix whatever is wrong. Forgiveness isn’t a guaranteed ticket to make everything better - forgiveness comes after confession and repentance - it’s not something to give if someone hasn’t actually done the work to change patterns of behavior or to acknowledge the harm they have caused. Forgiveness also doesn’t come overnight. It’s messy and non-linear and, to be honest, it’s driven by the one who has been harmed. The journey to get to a place of forgiveness is hard and takes work. But taken in the context of agape love - forgiveness doesn’t have to been we continue in relationship with someone. It doesn’t mean we have to be buddies or like them - it means we get to a place where we desire their well-being, and we release our hold on that spot of woundedness. It may come when we are able to see their actions as a result of the other person’s woundedness or when we are able to have compassion on what led to their actions. It doesn’t excuse the harm or whatever they’ve done, but it transforms how we see them and places them in perspective. Debie Thomas at Journey with Jesus writes this: “To choose forgiveness is to release myself from the tyranny of bitterness. To give up my frenzied longing to be understood and vindicated by anyone other than God. To refuse the seductive lie that revenge will make me feel better. To cast my hunger for justice deep into God’s heart, because justice belongs to God, and only God can secure it. I wonder if we're often squeamish about forgiveness because we misunderstand the nature of unconditional love. Foregrounding God's all-embracing love doesn't for one second require us to relativize evil. If it did, God's love would be cruel and weak, not compassionate and strong. But where we humans make love and judgment mutually exclusive — where we cry out for revenge, retribution, and punishment — God holds out for restorative justice. A kind of justice we can barely imagine. A kind of justice that has the power to heal both the oppressed and the oppressor.” Forgiveness - as well as the other actions Jesus lists here - isn’t about a doormat faith or about retaliation through kindness…but about exposing reality in a way that calls others into account - and about inviting others to become better versions of themselves. It’s about seeing people as God sees them - and releasing their hold on you into that space, and offering that agape love - love that isn’t linked to your own personal opinion of them. It happens in small ways in small spaces so that we can be ready for the more challenging acts of forgiveness we will be called upon to wrestle through in the course of our lifetimes. And maybe, as we learn more and more to see the divine in the other, the “better-self” that resides within those who harm us, perhaps others will learn to see themselves that way too - and learn to also extend well-being to those around them as well. May we find ways this week to offer that agape love to those around us - especially to our enemies. Amen. Scripture Psalm 1; Luke 6:17-26
Psalm 1 (New Revised Standard Version) 1 Happy are those who do not follow the advice of the wicked, or take the path that sinners tread, or sit in the seat of scoffers; 2 but their delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law they meditate day and night. 3 They are like trees planted by streams of water, which yield their fruit in its season, and their leaves do not wither. In all that they do, they prosper. 4 The wicked are not so, but are like chaff that the wind drives away. 5 Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment, nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous; 6 for the Lord watches over the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked will perish. Luke 6:17-26 (New Revised Standard Version) 17 He came down with them and stood on a level place, with a great crowd of his disciples and a great multitude of people from all Judea, Jerusalem, and the coast of Tyre and Sidon. 18 They had come to hear him and to be healed of their diseases; and those who were troubled with unclean spirits were cured. 19 And all in the crowd were trying to touch him, for power came out from him and healed all of them. 20 Then he looked up at his disciples and said: “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. 21 “Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled. “Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh. 22 “Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. 23 Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven; for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets. 24 “But woe to you who are rich, for you have received your consolation. 25 “Woe to you who are full now, for you will be hungry. “Woe to you who are laughing now, for you will mourn and weep. 26 “Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets. Sermon Who is blessed - and who is not? There’s a lot of cultural baggage around the word “blessed” - particularly in how it relates to our own personal ideas of success - how we measure up in our careers or social norms or family values or education). Money and stuff tend to be the metrics we most naturally default to, perhaps because they are the most quantifiable and easily comparable. Both our passages challenge those assumptions in that we are invited to see - both ourselves and others - as God sees instead of how we tend to look at others - and these two texts invite us into a different understanding of the word “blessed” - even a different understanding of the word “happy” - and call us to step into a different way of being and living in the world - one that is measured by God’s economy and not our own. As a reminder, at the heart of God’s economy as Luke tells us in his gospel, is the Year of Jubilee - the year of the Lord’s favor - when the oppressed go free, captives are released, debts are forgiven, land rights are restored - it’s a year of celebration and trust in God’s provision for all God’s people - rich and poor alike. It is a Sabbath year above all Sabbath years, where the even the land was not intentionally cultivated and people relied on stored supplies, on the natural production of the land, and on gleaning. Such a year where the ideal was this radical redistribution of resources, would have certainly been good news to the poor and marginalized - and uncomfortable at best to those who held power. This theme of Jesus’ ministry is in the background as we see Jesus standing on the plain among the people - the crowds and his disciples - and he’s healing diseases and unclean spirits and power is just flowing out of him - and then he turns to look up at his disciples and gives this teaching of blessings and woes that are a lot like what we see in the Beatitudes, except they pretty explicitly deal with the materiality of the world. Where Matthew talks about blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness and blessed are the poor in spirit, Luke expressly says blessed are the hungry and blessed are the poor. No qualifiers. And, Luke adds some “woes” that Matthew doesn’t deal with. “Blessed are you who are poor, hungry, sad, and expendable. Woe to you who are rich, full, happy, and popular.” (Debie Thomas) Pretty cut and dry, doesn’t it seem? Maybe a little harsh, especially for those who find themselves called out by Jesus. I wonder if Jesus in this moment had been moved by compassion by all those who had gathered around him. The passage tells us of a group of people who had traveled from all over who had traveled to see him, to hear a word of hope, to be healed from what ailed them. This is a massive group of hurting people (enfleshed), some of whom may have expended all they had to come and receive what Jesus had to offer. Those who had gathered around him were suffering - and Jesus turns to them and says that what they are experiencing - their poverty, their suffering, their hunger, their social status - isn’t how it is meant to be - that they shouldn’t have to endure these things that the barriers they face aren’t right - that God is close to them in these moments and that in this great era of God’s kingdom, in this Jubilee year, things will be made whole. Jesus’s words point out this great reversal of power, and that when we live out the values of God here on earth, we will change whole systems and ways of being. This reversal comes all throughout scripture, as God is constantly paying attention to who is oppressed and harmed and who is profiting at their expense and through the prophets (and Jesus) calling forth a future where the oppressed, exploited, suffering, can thrive and be free. It kind of makes us ask the question - well, where are we in God’s economy? Are we more blessed or are the woes meant for us? What reversals are at stake for us? Truth be told, for many of us the answer might be both - we may be privileged in some places in our society because of our gender or skin color, but marginalized in others because of our economic status or social location. We may have privilege through our education and marginalized because of our sexual orientation. We can experience unfairness and suffering and injustice AND have places where we enjoy more power and privilege than others. In this, we can find ourselves both invited to receive blessing and be challenged by what that reversal - what “woe” - means for us? I love how enfleshed invites us to consider some questions - they write, “What if we choose that reversal instead of waiting for it to come- what if we choose to join the blessed, giving up our power by choice? What if we choose to not simply act out of charity but work instead to radically shift the system we benefit from? Or if we are the ones God promises are blessed, what does it mean for us to believe that God doesn’t just promise crumbs or handouts but a total reversal of that which keeps us down? How does claiming our own blessedness empower us to survive, to thrive, to keep believing that God is working with and for us for something better?” The commentary continues: “Sometimes we all need to be reminded that suffering at the hands of injustice, oppression, or normalized destructive systems deserves compassion and companionship. There are so many ways that we face unnecessary barriers each day that keep us from thriving: Public transportation doesn’t come to our side of town because of racism, we live in food deserts, we get misgendered everywhere we go, we can’t get in to see a doctor because it’s too expensive or because they’re all overbooked, we get talked over at work because of sexism, we are overworked and under paid, and the list goes on. There are very few experiences of suffering and pain that are not somehow linked to larger systems of evil that someone else is profiting from. This text reminds us that God’s response is compassion, is support, and is a reminder of what should and shouldn’t and will one day be. Together, we are encouraged to recognize one another’s pain, respond to it with physical manifestations of love and resources, and remind one another, tenderly and compassionately, that feelings of frustration or weariness or impatience are welcome. God, too, feels those things with and through all who suffer.” Or as Rev. Dr. Monica Coleman puts it, “the community of God is living in this opposite way that inverts, or turns on its head, all of our expectations. To live out the community of God is not to reflect things as they are but to live as things ought to be.” Each of you this morning should have a stone with you should have brought with you to worship. I invite you to hold your stone in one hand, and cover it with your other hand…..feel the weight of the stone in your hand…the warmth of your skin warming its surface…. …imagine that warmth and that weight is God’s love and presence…and as you imagine that presence, that peace…that love…bring to your mind someone who is struggling right now - perhaps someone who is wrestling with the healthcare system and wondering how to pay for their medical bills….or someone who is trying to figure out housing…maybe someone who is just feeling sidelined by friends and family and wondering if anyone really cares about them…maybe someone who doesn’t know what is next for them…and as you hold the stone, as you experience the warmth and love of God’s presence…imagine that blessing - that presence and nearness of God - being transferred to that person, and that they too are surrounded by God’s love. Say a silent blessing for that person - a reminder that God is near to those who are hurting…that God has compassion on the suffering and the struggling…that God’s community has a place for them…and imagine that blessing being carried by the stone in your hand. After worship - give that blessed stone to someone - maybe someone in the congregation or someone in your home or at your workplace - who could use the blessing that you put into the stone. Through it all, we have the presence of the one who holds us all together, who carries each of us and draws us deeper into grace and mercy as we learn to live as members of God’s community together…and we have the gift of each other - to learn from and grow with as people blessed and challenged to live into a more faithful reflection of life in God’s reign. I want to leave you with this reflection on Jesus’s upside down kingdom written by Frederick Buechner. He writes this: “The world says, ‘Mind your own business,’ and Jesus says, ‘There is no such thing as your own business.’ The world says, ‘Follow the wisest course and be a success,’ and Jesus says, ‘Follow me and be crucified.’ The world says, ‘Drive carefully — the life you save may be your own’ — and Jesus says, ‘Whoever would save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.’ The world says, ‘Law and order,’ and Jesus says, ‘Love.’ The world says, ‘Get’ and Jesus says, ‘Give.’ In terms of the world's sanity, Jesus is crazy as a coot, and anybody who thinks he can follow him without being a little crazy too is laboring less under a cross than under a delusion." May the God who gives and takes away, offers comfort and challenge, grant us the grace to sit with woe, and learn the meaning of blessing. (Debie Thomas). Amen. Scripture - Isaiah 6:1-8, 1 Corinthians 15:1-11, Luke 5:1-11
Isaiah 6:1-8 (The Message) 6 1-8 In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Master sitting on a throne—high, exalted!—and the train of his robes filled the Temple. Angel-seraphs hovered above him, each with six wings. With two wings they covered their faces, with two their feet, and with two they flew. And they called back and forth one to the other, Holy, Holy, Holy is God-of-the-Angel-Armies. His bright glory fills the whole earth. The foundations trembled at the sound of the angel voices, and then the whole house filled with smoke. I said, “Doom! It’s Doomsday! I’m as good as dead! Every word I’ve ever spoken is tainted-- blasphemous even! And the people I live with talk the same way, using words that corrupt and desecrate. And here I’ve looked God in the face! The King! God-of-the-Angel-Armies!” Then one of the angel-seraphs flew to me. He held a live coal that he had taken with tongs from the altar. He touched my mouth with the coal and said, “Look. This coal has touched your lips. Gone your guilt, your sins wiped out.” And then I heard the voice of the Master: “Whom shall I send? Who will go for us?” I spoke up, “I’ll go. Send me!” 1 Corinthians 15:1-11 (The Message) 15 1-2 Friends, let me go over the Message with you one final time—this Message that I proclaimed and that you made your own; this Message on which you took your stand and by which your life has been saved. (I’m assuming, now, that your belief was the real thing and not a passing fancy, that you’re in this for good and holding fast.) 3-9 The first thing I did was place before you what was placed so emphatically before me: that the Messiah died for our sins, exactly as Scripture tells it; that he was buried; that he was raised from death on the third day, again exactly as Scripture says; that he presented himself alive to Peter, then to his closest followers, and later to more than five hundred of his followers all at the same time, most of them still around (although a few have since died); that he then spent time with James and the rest of those he commissioned to represent him; and that he finally presented himself alive to me. It was fitting that I bring up the rear. I don’t deserve to be included in that inner circle, as you well know, having spent all those early years trying my best to stamp God’s church right out of existence. 10-11 But because God was so gracious, so very generous, here I am. And I’m not about to let his grace go to waste. Haven’t I worked hard trying to do more than any of the others? Even then, my work didn’t amount to all that much. It was God giving me the work to do, God giving me the energy to do it. So whether you heard it from me or from those others, it’s all the same: We spoke God’s truth and you entrusted your lives. Luke 5:1-11 (The Message) 5 1-3 Once when he was standing on the shore of Lake Gennesaret, the crowd was pushing in on him to better hear the Word of God. He noticed two boats tied up. The fishermen had just left them and were out scrubbing their nets. He climbed into the boat that was Simon’s and asked him to put out a little from the shore. Sitting there, using the boat for a pulpit, he taught the crowd. 4 When he finished teaching, he said to Simon, “Push out into deep water and let your nets out for a catch.” 5-7 Simon said, “Master, we’ve been fishing hard all night and haven’t caught even a minnow. But if you say so, I’ll let out the nets.” It was no sooner said than done—a huge haul of fish, straining the nets past capacity. They waved to their partners in the other boat to come help them. They filled both boats, nearly swamping them with the catch. 8-10 Simon Peter, when he saw it, fell to his knees before Jesus. “Master, leave. I’m a sinner and can’t handle this holiness. Leave me to myself.” When they pulled in that catch of fish, awe overwhelmed Simon and everyone with him. It was the same with James and John, Zebedee’s sons, coworkers with Simon. 10-11 Jesus said to Simon, “There is nothing to fear. From now on you’ll be fishing for men and women.” They pulled their boats up on the beach, left them, nets and all, and followed him. Sermon When God encounters us - how do we respond? These are three very different stories and accounts of what happens when people meet God and the transformation that happens through experiences of the sacred. Isaiah sees this grand vision of an enormous deity, so big its robes fill the Temple, attended by angelic beings that leave Isaiah feeling small and insignificant, impure and unworthy. He declares his state before the Lord as one with unclean lips who lives among a people of unclean lips and one of the beings touches his mouth with a hot coal to purify it, his sins are declared wiped away. Isaiah ends up volunteering to be the mouth of God as a prophet and is basically told that he will be unsuccessful - that people will not understand the message he is bringing to them - try as they might to hear it, see it, and understand it. The four fishermen respond to Jesus’ invitation to fish in a new way when they get the catch of their lifetimes based on Jesus’ unsolicited advice after a fruitless night of fishing. They drop their nets, leave their families, and leave it all behind to follow this carpenter-turned-prophet who had attracted a crowd of people around him as he preached the Word of God. Paul - the author of 1 Corinthians - describes the resurrected Jesus appearing to Peter and his first followers (ironically leaving out the fact that women witnessed Jesus first) before presenting himself to a larger group of 500, and then finally, showing up to him as he was about his zealous work of persecuting those early followers of the Way. To give you a quick refresher, Paul - then Saul - was on his way to Damascus to round up any Jesus followers, both men and women, and bring them back bound to Jerusalem. He was struck blind, heard the voice of Jesus identifying himself as the one he was persecuting, and was sightless for three days before being healed by Ananias, a follower of Jesus in Damascus. Paul in this story describes himself as one not ready or worthy for the task because of all his years trying to stop the movement of the Holy Spirit. Three stories - all very different encounters with the divine - all challenging in their own right as we think about the ways we respond to God’s invitation in our own lives. But there is one thread that I see that weave these responses together - and that is the transformation from reluctance, the feelings of unworthiness or unpreparedness, to God’s action that affirms and sends each person out into the world. I don’t know about you, but that is often my first response when presented with the divine call - the fear and anxiety, like I won’t be good enough or up to the task. I know I’ve shared before about my own feelings of inadequacy when I first had an inkling that congregational ministry was on my path - and I had this laundry list of excuses why professional ministry was not a good fit and I wrestled with God for many years before coming to a place of acceptance or surrender. And many of you may have heard the expression “God doesn’t call the equipped, God equips the called” - and you may have heard that applied to any kind of task or pathway that you feel God might be inviting you to follow. What I find in all three of these stories is that each person recognizes the holy - Isaiah knows he is in the presence of God; Simon Peter - and his friends - recognize Jesus as Lord and Master after the abundant catch they haul in after getting nothing all night; Paul recognizes the resurrected Christ on the road. And each of them doesn’t doubt God’s authority or glory or power…but each of them wonders if they are really up to what God wants them to do. They have faith in God - just not faith in themselves. We hear in Simon’s story an echo of our Isaiah text - he’s convinced that he is unclean in an unclean world - that he is in need of purification - and instead of drawing closer to Jesus after this miraculous catch, he withdraws further in fear and trembling - after all, stories of God’s judgment abound in the Old Testament connected with fishing with hooks and nets. It’s not for salvation, as we understand it from our Gospel passage. But Jesus doesn’t forgive Simon. He doesn’t punish Simon after Simon proclaims his sinfulness. Jesus recruits him. Gives him a role and a purpose. The judgment isn’t punishment - the judgment is love and worthiness and a proclamation of “you are enough as you are” - it’s not just an absence of condemnation, but it’s the presence of communion, friendship, trust, companionship along the way. It’s saying to someone who’s done you wrong, Come, let’s work together. I trust you. Follow me. (SALT project). Jesus reverses the image that we find in the Old Testament of fishing for people being one of God meting out punishment as judgment, and turns into one of worthiness as judgment. Again, from the SALT project - it’s as if Jesus says to Simon Peter: You’re afraid of getting caught in one of God’s nets? Well, I’ll tell you what, from now on you’ll be the one catching sinners! And not so they might be damned, mind you, any more than you’re being damned today. On the contrary, we’re out to catch sinners so they might be saved! Take heart, Simon, and don’t be afraid: the Great Jubilee has begun! Isn’t that Good News? Continuing that theme we talked about a couple weeks ago of the Great Jubilee - the year of the Lord’s favor - isn’t the proclamation of the Lord’s favor Good News to people who feel wounded and broken and caught in their sin that the judgment is not punishment but love? Grace? Worthiness? That God sees the whole person and chooses to love and liberate, to redeem and resurrect? The four men leave everything behind and follow him - including that abundant catch - two boatloads worth. What another wonderful sign of Jubilee - the Sabbath year above all Sabbath years, where the land rests, debts are cancelled, slaves are freed, land rights restored, and where the abundance of God’s provision is tangible. I can imagine that what Simon Peter and his friends brought in fed hungry people (after all, the crowds following Jesus were right there) instead of lining the pockets of the wealthy and powerful, as what happened most often to the goods and services the peasant class and work of day laborers provided. There is abundance in the midst of our perceptions of scarcity - this is what Jubilee is all about! It’s also all about ourselves…we focus so often on our own shortcomings, our own unworthiness, lack of ability, our own inadequacies - but God believes in us - God deems us worthy - we know our shortcomings, they are ever before us, but God invites us to lean in to the abundance of our giftedness just as we are. While we focused on the Luke passage, we can draw similar conclusions through the lens of Isaiah and Paul - God recruits the unlikely, the questionable, the ones we wouldn’t expect, and they become witnesses of God’s love, grace, and mercy in being sent out into the world. So what does that look like? It’s different for each of us - but as we continue to steep ourselves in God’s love and grace, as we follow more deeply in the way of Jesus and let Christ animate our beings, we learn to divest of the stories the world would have us believe and invest in the unfolding of God’s abundant love and favor, the idea that all things are held together and made right in Christ, and that the Holy Spirit is pouring out and drawing all of us forward into pathways of righteousness and peace. God doesn’t want our appearances of having it all together. God doesn’t want our pretense of the shiny and perfect. God seeks the broken and vulnerable, our open wounds, our tender places - and the judgment declared is love and worthiness. In a world that gives us a lot of messages about who we are supposed to be and how we are supposed to act and that values upward mobility and the amount of money in our bank accounts - isn’t it freeing to know that God doesn’t care about any of that? That the judgment isn’t how well we measure up to any given standard - but that we are loved and surrounded by grace and God’s abundance no matter where we are? That gives me so much comfort and hope - both as a person and as we think about our life together as an organization. I invite us this week to consider that shift - to think about what God is inviting you into, to note the feelings of fear or anxiety or hesitancy - and then to offer those spaces to the God who loves and considers you worthy -- who doesn’t just equip you for the task ahead, but who already sees and values and affirms your giftedness just as you are…and just as you are becoming. Thanks be to God for the year of the Lord’s favor - and for the abundance that is already here. Amen. Scripture - Luke 4:14-21
14Then Jesus, filled with the power of the Spirit, returned to Galilee, and a report about him spread through all the surrounding country. 15He began to teach in their synagogues and was praised by everyone. 16When he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, 17and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written: 18“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, 19to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” 20And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. 21Then he began to say to them, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” Sermon This is often a passage that gets pulled out this time of year, during this Epiphany season, which in the Christian year is the time between Christmas and Lent where we see the revelation of Jesus’s mission and purpose on earth made known to the people - through his baptism, through his miracles, and through his teaching. It’s a season of exploring Jesus’s identity - who is this person of power and filled with the Spirit who has appeared among us? This story, in particular, is a fairly familiar one, where Jesus returns to his home region and everyone’s really excited about Jesus and talked up - and then he gets to his hometown and - well, if you read on in the chapter, the people end up wanting to throw Jesus off the nearest cliff, so it didn’t really go over so well for hometown hero Jesus. Jesus was given the scroll of Isaiah - a detail that I hadn’t noticed before in the reading - and he unrolled it to find a particular set of passages - a combination of Isaiah 61:1-2 and 58:6. This is kind of like Jesus’ manifesto - if you want to know what Jesus himself thought about his work in the world, you could go back to this moment and these set of verses from the Prophets, and you would get a sense of how Jesus understood himself and what he was sent to do. What I find fascinating as I read the passage this week - and as I looked up these two passages from Isaiah - isn’t so much what Jesus says - but what Jesus didn’t say from that reading. If you look up Isaiah 61:1-2, you’ll find “The spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners; 2 to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor, and the day of vengeance of our God;” Jesus, though, doesn’t read the line about vengeance. Jesus stops at proclaiming the year of the Lord’s favor, and adds his own tagline that the scripture has been fulfilled today in their hearing. No more vengeance - it’s the year of the Lord’s favor - and it’s here, right now, right in front of you. To proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. It’s a notion that connects with the Jewish concept of Jubilee - a year observed once in 50 years (following seven sabbatical years, where you let the land rest every seven years). In the Jubilee year, slaves and prisoners would be set free, debts would be forgiven, and land rights restored. The provisions for this practice are outlined in Leviticus 25. The time of Jubilee was one of restoration and liberty for all - people, creatures, even the land - and in that movement of freedom, the fullness of God’s presence would be made known, as well as ultimate reliance upon God’s provision as the land rested from intentional cultivation. Jesus’s hometown congregation would have known the practice of sabbath years and heard the promises of a Jubilee year - we don’t really know if the Jubilee was ever something actually enacted and celebrated and it most likely wasn’t something practiced in Jesus’ time. So to hear Jesus proclaim that the time was here and now, that the scripture has been fulfilled, that the year of the Lord’s favor was here and today - no wonder their first reaction was amazement - that this era of liberation and restoration and return was here. I love how the lectionary commentary from the Salt Project puts it: “Great Jubilee, a new era of liberation, restoration, and return. Accordingly, this good news comes first of all not to the free but to captives, not to the comfortable but to the disadvantaged and downtrodden. In this “inaugural address” of his ministry, Jesus is crystal clear that the Gospel is above all about God “lifting up the lowly” — words we’ve heard ring out in song in Mary’s “Magnificat,” and therefore a theme Jesus no doubt first learned from his mother. But the Jubilee ideal, please note, isn’t only for the benefit of the poor — it’s also for the health of creation as a whole. Everyone benefits when liberty and wellbeing extend across the entire neighborhood; that’s the heart of “Jubilee.” And so following Jesus, as it turns out, isn’t merely about chasing down our own salvation; it’s about participating in God’s restoration of the most vulnerable, proclaiming good news to the poor, and helping to build a world worthy of that proclamation.” Jesus was saying that the year of the lord’s favor - the Jubilee - the time of redemption and restoration - was here. Today the scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing. Now if I was sitting where you all are, and if Jesus himself got up and said the exact same thing he did nearly 2000 years ago, I would laugh. Seriously. If someone said that 2022 was the year of the Lord’s favor, I would have to wonder what in the world they saw that would make that statement true. Because what has 2022 brought us so far? Omicron and continuing climate devastation and nations continually at war and refugees fleeing for their lives and mental health crises and a breakdown in basic civility and kindness toward our neighbors, particularly between folks who disagree politically. I don’t see much favor there. I don’t think I need to paint any more of a picture here - I think you get what I’m going for. There is nothing like a Jubilee out there. And yet - goddess - what better time than now, when so many of us are desperate for a different way of being and for racial justice to break forth, for equal access to health care, to renew bonds with our neighbors, see opportunities for housing, to welcome the stranger and foreigner among us, to give prisoners a better opportunity in life - when….people are so fed up with everything, they will go out to meet up with strangers to scream their frustrations together… what better time than to point to the change that is coming - that restoration and liberation is wholeness is not just on it’s way, but available here, right now, for you and for me? And what if the year of the Lord’s favor, what if Jubilee, is not something that’s handed to us, but a decision that each of us has to make about how we live and breathe and move about in the world? A choice we make about how we see and perceive things, about how we spend our time and energy, about we give ourselves over to? Debie Thomas at Journey with Jesus writes, “the time for transformation, renewal, and metanoia is at hand… Lean into liberation today. Accept the joy of the Lord today. The time of the Lord’s favor — luminous and rich — stands in front of them, embodied before their very eyes, if only they will dare to see it. “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” To live as if the year of the Lord’s favor - that Jubilee - is here - it’s a different kind of work.
And as much as I think we can make this choice as individuals - what if we took it a step further and imagined what a Jubilee year looks like for our congregation? What does the year of the Lord’s favor mean for us? What does accepting joy look like together? Letting the work lie fallow and tending to the seeds deep within our life together in sabbath rest? Exercising trust together? What does releasing captives and healing others look like? And I have to wonder if as we tend to this different rhythm of life together - one marked by joy and celebration, a resting in grace and sabbath mercies - and as we lean into those spaces for ourselves personally - the work of liberation and healing isn’t so much work as it is witness. We live it, we become it, and it in and of itself becomes a signpost of hope and freedom for others…and our role becomes journeying with people as they are drawn deeper into the love of God and the companionship of Christ. So I want to give you a little bit more time to mull this over in your doodles - as you consider what the year of the Lord’s favor looks like for you. What does it feel like as you imagine embodying that for you….and what about for this congregation? What color does joy represent - and what about wholeness? Liberation? What does freedom even look like for you, for this church? Spend some time doodling - and if it’s not your thing, free associate some words. I want us to get out of the rational part of our heads and into our more emotional, embodied self with this - so let the spirit take you where it will! Doodle time (playlist) After worship - take your phone or camera….and snap a picture of what you came up with, and email it to me or the church - you don’t need to sign your work if you don’t want to - and I’ll put it all together so that we can have a reminder of what this Jubilee year means for us as we make our way in the weeks and months ahead. For: The Spirit of the Lord is upon us - this is the year of the Lord’s favor. Thanks be to God! Amen. Scripture - Luke 3:15-17, 21-22; 1 Corinthians 12:4-16
Luke 3:15-17, 21-22 (New Revised Standard Version) 15 As the people were filled with expectation, and all were questioning in their hearts concerning John, whether he might be the Messiah, 16 John answered all of them by saying, “I baptize you with water; but one who is more powerful than I is coming; I am not worthy to untie the thong of his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. 17 His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” 21 Now when all the people were baptized, and when Jesus also had been baptized and was praying, the heaven was opened, 22 and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” A Retelling of 1 Corinthians 12, as written by enfleshed, which talks about the gifts given to us by God - gifts that we all use...gifts given to children and adults and elderly alike: Though we bring different gifts, it is the same Spirit who makes them alive in us. There are so many ways to serve the vision of Love. None of us are without something to bring to the work of the common good. To one, the Spirit gives wisdom and to another, the strength to weep for all that is lost, to another, the belief that change is possible among us, to another, a soft presence that heals in the midst of destruction, to another, a spirit that inspires and compels, To another, the courage to name what is making us all ill, To another, discernment about what is good and what is evil, To another, the ability to translate between those who cannot communicate with each other, To another still, the gifts of recognizing God in unexpected places. For just as the body is one and has many members, and just as all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. For in the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body – we are different in culture, social location, backgrounds, bodies, and beliefs – but we were all made to drink of one Spirit who collapses the power among us. Our baptism does not condone hierarchies. It calls upon us to bring about the dreams of God on earth – where all is held in rightful balance, none oppressed or confined, and all with access to what is needed to flourish. Indeed, the body does not consist of one part but of many. If the artist would say, “because I am not a bridge-builder, I do not belong to the work of the common good,” that would not make them any less needed. And if the healer would say, “because I am not a dynamic speaker, I do not belong to the work of the common good,” that would not make them any less needed. If the whole body were listeners, where would the ones who tell the truth be? If the only ones who are valued in the work of Love are those with money to give, who will be the ones to practice civil disobedience for us when evil will not budge? Who will teach our children in the ways of justice and compassion? Who will nourish our bodies – feed us, offer us touch, tend to our wounds? Who will provide us with music, that our labor may be accompanied with dancing? Will we find laughter anywhere, to sustain our spirits? God has arranged it so that each of us are needed and each of us have offerings to bring. If we were all the same, what could we achieve? How would we survive? What a dull endeavor this would be. The business person cannot say to the activist, I have no need of you. Nor can the doctor say to the poet, I need you not. On the contrary, the members of the body that society deems least significant are those most needed. We respect the disrespected. We recognize the value of the quiet ones, the strange ones, the misunderstood, misrepresented, and under-resourced ones. We lift them up and honor them, that the whole body might be restored to its natural balance, as God intended. If any of us suffer, we all suffer. If any of us have cause to rejoice, we all celebrate. Video Reflection - https://www.saltproject.org/progressive-christian-blog/2022/1/10/a-visual-poem-for-mlk-day Sermon “There is another reason why we must get rid of racial injustice. Not merely because it is sociologically untenable or because it is politically unsound, not merely to meet the communist challenge or to create a good image in the world or to appeal to African and Asian peoples, as important as that happens to be. In the final analysis racial injustice must be uprooted from American society because it is morally wrong. Segregation is morally wrong, to use the words of the great Jewish philosopher, Martin Buber, because it substitutes an I-it relationship for the I-thou relationship. Or to use the thinking of Saint Thomas Aquinas, segregation is wrong because it is based on human laws that are out of harmony with the eternal natural and moral laws of the universe. The great Protestant theologian, Paul Tillich, said that sin is separation. And what is segregation but an existential expression of man's tragic estrangement - his awful segregation, his terrible sinfulness? And so in order to rise to our full moral maturity as a nation, we must get rid of segregation whether it is in housing, whether it is a de facto segregation in the public schools, whether it is segregation in public accommodations, or whether it is segregation in the church. We must see that it is morally wrong. We must see that it is a national problem. And no section of our country can boast of clean hands in the area of brotherhood. We strengthen our nation, above all we strengthen our moral commitment; as we work to get rid of this problem. Now there is another problem facing us that we must deal with if we are to remain awake through a social revolution. We must get rid of violence, hatred, and war. Anyone who feels that the problems of mankind can be solved through violence is sleeping through a revolution. I've said this over and over again, and I believe it more than ever today. We know about violence. It's been the inseparable twin of Western materialism, the hallmark of its grandeur. I am convinced that violence ends up creating many more social problems than it solves. This is why I say to my people that if we succumb to the temptation of using violence in our struggle, unborn generations will be the recipients of a long and desolate night of bitterness. There is another way - a way as old as the insights of Jesus of Nazareth and as modern as the techniques of Mohandas K. Gandhi. For it is possible to stand up against an unjust system with all of your might, with all of your body, with all of your soul, and yet not stoop to hatred and violence. Something about this approach disarms the opponent. It exposes his moral defenses, weakens his morale, and at the same time, works on his conscience. He doesn't know how to handle it. So it is my great hope that, as we struggle for racial justice, we will follow that philosophy and method of non-violent resistance, realizing that this is the approach that can bring about that better day of racial justice for everyone.” - from “Remaining Awake Through a Great Revolution", Commencement Address for Oberlin College by By Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr, June 1965, Oberlin Ohio This Sunday for us combines a few different days we acknowledge in the year - first is the baptism of Jesus, the day that offers us an opportunity to reflect on the start of Jesus’s public ministry, on our own baptisms, and on our incorporation into God’s family -- and the second is Martin Luther King Jr. day, a day that honors the achievements of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr and in recent years has been an opportunity to reflect on the work that is yet before our country in terms of racial equality and ending racial injustice. I find that the pairing of these two days to be a bit fortuitous, for the first one, marked by the baptismal waters, offers us a foundation for thinking through the second. One of the powerful pieces of baptism is this radical notion that we claim our identity as God’s children, and while we believe that all of humankind belongs to God’s family, in the waters of baptism, we stake ourselves on that identity and choose to live in such a way that reflects our place in God’s family. We are incorporated and gifted into a body where we serve the unfolding of God’s love and in the world around us, working for the day where all is made right. We grow in the life of the Spirit and as our Corinthian passage reminds us - we all have different abilities and callings and talents as we partner with what God is about in the world. And as I think about the work of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., and as I think about the ongoing conversations around racial justice and poverty and violence that are still happening more than 50 years after his assassination - I’m reminded of the responsibility that comes with being a part of God’s family and the body of Christ. It’s not only about loving my Black, Asian, Hispanic, poor, Islamic, neighbor - though that is certainly a large part of how we are to treat one another in this world. It’s about working for a world where God’s justice prevails, where - as we talked about in Advent in Mary’s Magnificat - the lowly are lifted up, the hungry are filled, those who are oppressed and exploited will find freedom and hope. I’m reminded of the end of the rewrite of the Corinthians passage, and I love this retelling so much because it brings to life in contemporary images the different functions in the body of Christ. But it ends this way: “On the contrary, the members of the body that society deems least significant are those most needed. We respect the disrespected. We recognize the value of the quiet ones, the strange ones, the misunderstood, misrepresented, and under-resourced ones. We lift them up and honor them, that the whole body might be restored to its natural balance, as God intended. If any of us suffer, we all suffer. If any of us have cause to rejoice, we all celebrate.” As we remember our baptism today - and as we receive new members into the congregation - let us remember that is part of the call as those who are baptized - to proclaim that all belong, to understand that the suffering of one is the suffering of all, to feel in our bones that we are all inextricably connected…. …again in the words of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., let us remember that “In a real sense all life is inter-related. All men are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. I can never be what I ought to be until you are what you ought to be, and you can never be what you ought to be until I am what I ought to be...This is the inter-related structure of reality.” Let us work for that day together. Amen. Today’s the day we’re celebrating Epiphany - the day that the Magi arrived to visit Jesus, Mary, and Joseph in their home in Bethlehem. It’s technically celebrated on January 6th, which is the 12th day of Christmas. Epiphany is derived from the greek word “epipháneia” which basically means a “striking appearance” or “manifestation” - and it was used primarily in ancient Greek to refer to the manifestation of gods to worshippers.
In casual use today, we talk about having an Epiphany as having an “aha” moment, or when the lightbulb goes off over our heads -- but if we consider the way this word has been used - and we consider our scripture texts from Matthew and the passage from Isaiah we heard read at the start of worship, having an epiphany becomes deeper. An epiphany is a revelation - something that once was in darkness and concealed from you and that is now brought to light. When we talk about the Magi having an epiphany, they literally saw and experienced the Word made Flesh, Love Incarnate, God-with-Us -- and understood Jesus’s presence as salvation for all humankind. The Magi followed the star to the place where Jesus dwelled. Isaiah spoke of the light that would dawn upon the nations. Both these images point to God’s revealing light as a gift for a people trapped in darkness...in fear...in worry...this was true in the time of Jesus as the people longed for someone to deliver them from the oppression of empire...from their poverty and their hunger...from violence and threats of violence...and I think it’s not a stretch of the imagination to realize that there are places in our world, in our community, and even in our lives where darkness dwells...places where God’s light yet needs to shine. The light of the star brought hope to a people in need of hope - it revealed that God was doing a new thing in the world. The Magi were open enough to follow the star wherever it led, searching for what its light would make manifest. They saw and experienced the child Jesus, salvation in the flesh...and it changed them. After this epiphany, their lives as they knew it would be different as even the mere encounter with Christ meant they had to go home by a different road - literally and figuratively. Our own encounters with Christ, too, leave us changed - enable us to see ourselves and others in a new light. I love how Epiphany comes at the beginning of the year - because I think we, too, are invited to follow the light of the star to see what God’s gift to us might be in the coming year. I don’t know about you, but I’m so done with New Year’s Resolutions. I can never keep them, and all they do for me is serve as one more thing to try and do that I know I won’t be able to keep well. New Year’s Resolutions - for me - are far more often a curse than a gift. What I want to suggest instead, as we think about the new year, as we consider what God might reveal to us as we seek to follow Christ, is that we open ourselves up to this light in our own lives. On our tree this year were a bunch of words - words that have companioned us as we’ve worshipped together over Advent and Christmas. Words that invite us and open us up to the gift of God in a whole new way. “It is a prayer practice in churches all over the world to give people a star word On this Epiphany Sunday. There are many reasons behind this tradition. First, we know that the Magi followed a star, which ultimately led them to Jesus. Therefore, we too use all the resources we have available to us-- including creative prayer practices and intention words for the new year-- to move closer to Jesus. Secondly, we trust that God uses multiple ways to guide us and speak to us. Star words are one such lens that might provide us with a way to look for God in our midst, Both actively and in hindsight. Finally, we know that the most common prayer practice for many involves speaking to God As opposed to silence or contemplation. However, this prayer practice invites a new prayer rhythm of reflection and review That can be a powerful new way to connect with God.” A Sanctified Art The downside is that we aren’t all together for you to draw a star word off the tree - but we will have a basket of them in the narthex or we can mail one to you. This word - consider it a gift to be unwrapped and unpacked over this year. It may be a word that immediately resonates or it may be a word that you’ll have to sit with for awhile. You can exchange it for a different one - I’m not going to be the star police, and if I have them out in a basket in the sanctuary, I’m never going to know - but I do encourage you to trust the word you receive…and hang it up where you will be sure to see it every day - on a bathroom mirror, or computer screen, or refridgerator. And over the course of the year, allow the word to speak to you. What does it mean for your life now -- or for where you’ve been or where you feel called to go? What is God saying to you in this word? What is God revealing? At the end of this year, we’ll do some star word sharing together about what lessons we’ve been learning - about God, about ourselves - that we’ve discovered through the journey with our words. And so I offer this blessing as we begin our star word journey: WHERE THE MAP BEGINS A Blessing for Epiphany - Jan Richardson This is not any map you know. Forget longitude. Forget latitude. Do not think of distances or of plotting the most direct route. Astrolabe, sextant, compass: these will not help you here. This is the map that begins with a star. This is the chart that starts with fire, with blazing, with an ancient light that has outlasted generations, empires, cultures, wars. Look starward once, then look away. Close your eyes and see how the map begins to blossom behind your lids, how it constellates, its lines stretching out from where you stand. You cannot see it all, cannot divine the way it will turn and spiral, cannot perceive how the road you walk will lead you finally inside, through the labyrinth of your own heart and belly and lungs. But step out and you will know what the wise who traveled this path before you knew: the treasure in this map is buried not at journey’s end but at its beginning. Amen. Scripture - Isaiah 64:1-9; Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19; Mark 13:24-37
Isaiah 64:1-9 - The Message 1-7 Oh, that you would rip open the heavens and descend, make the mountains shudder at your presence-- As when a forest catches fire, as when fire makes a pot to boil-- To shock your enemies into facing you, make the nations shake in their boots! You did terrible things we never expected, descended and made the mountains shudder at your presence. Since before time began no one has ever imagined, No ear heard, no eye seen, a God like you who works for those who wait for him. You meet those who happily do what is right, who keep a good memory of the way you work. But how angry you’ve been with us! We’ve sinned and kept at it so long! Is there any hope for us? Can we be saved? We’re all sin-infected, sin-contaminated. Our best efforts are grease-stained rags. We dry up like autumn leaves-- sin-dried, we’re blown off by the wind. No one prays to you or makes the effort to reach out to you Because you’ve turned away from us, left us to stew in our sins. 8-12 Still, God, you are our Father. We’re the clay and you’re our potter: All of us are what you made us. Don’t be too angry with us, O God. Don’t keep a permanent account of wrongdoing. Keep in mind, please, we are your people—all of us. Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19 (The Message) 1-2 Listen, Shepherd, Israel’s Shepherd-- get all your Joseph sheep together. Throw beams of light from your dazzling throne So Ephraim, Benjamin, and Manasseh can see where they’re going. Get out of bed—you’ve slept long enough! Come on the run before it’s too late. 3 God, come back! Smile your blessing smile: That will be our salvation. 4-6 God, God-of-the-Angel-Armies, how long will you smolder like a sleeping volcano while your people call for fire and brimstone? You put us on a diet of tears, bucket after bucket of salty tears to drink. You make us look ridiculous to our friends; our enemies poke fun day after day. 7 God-of-the-Angel-Armies, come back! Smile your blessing smile: That will be our salvation. 17-18 Then take the hand of your once-favorite child, the child you raised to adulthood. We will never turn our back on you; breathe life into our lungs so we can shout your name! 19 God, God-of-the-Angel-Armies, come back! Smile your blessing smile: That will be our salvation. Mark 13:24-37 (The Message) 24-25 “Following those hard times, Sun will fade out, moon cloud over, Stars fall out of the sky, cosmic powers tremble. 26-27 “And then they’ll see the Son of Man enter in grand style, his Arrival filling the sky—no one will miss it! He’ll dispatch the angels; they will pull in the chosen from the four winds, from pole to pole. 28-31 “Take a lesson from the fig tree. From the moment you notice its buds form, the merest hint of green, you know summer’s just around the corner. And so it is with you. When you see all these things, you know he is at the door. Don’t take this lightly. I’m not just saying this for some future generation, but for this one, too—these things will happen. Sky and earth will wear out; my words won’t wear out. 32-37 “But the exact day and hour? No one knows that, not even heaven’s angels, not even the Son. Only the Father. So keep a sharp lookout, for you don’t know the timetable. It’s like a man who takes a trip, leaving home and putting his servants in charge, each assigned a task, and commanding the gatekeeper to stand watch. So, stay at your post, watching. You have no idea when the homeowner is returning, whether evening, midnight, cockcrow, or morning. You don’t want him showing up unannounced, with you asleep on the job. I say it to you, and I’m saying it to all: Stay at your post. Keep watch.” Song Sermon What does anticipation feel like for you? That moment - or moments - of waiting and dealing with the “not-yet-but-almost-here?” You could be waiting for something good or bad -- but what do you find yourself doing in those times of expectation? [get feedback] Two things for me - as a kid, I would have a hard time getting to sleep. I was keyed up and ready - like my body and my mind just couldn’t shut down. I remember feeling this way on Christmas Day, or on the nights before we embarked on a big road trip - we used to drive down to Youngstown, OH once a year to see my grandparents, and we’d leave at 2 in the morning and I had the hardest time getting to sleep because I was so excited to get on the road. There was this energy and readiness that suffused my being and it was really hard to shift out of “engage” and into “relaxation.” The second thing that I notice myself doing when I’m actively waiting for something is that the event is on my mind all the time. I think about it. I often daydream about it. I wonder and explore and consider “what if”s - and it doesn’t matter if the thing I’m waiting for is something I’m excited about or something I’m dreading - there is an investment of mental, emotional, and spiritual energy in the lead up to whatever I’m waiting for. Our readings for this morning are full of yearning and expectation - a lamentation over the world that is and desperate cries for God to usher in the world that will be. We see Jesus speaking with his disciples, telling them to be ready for his appearing - ready for that day when the fullness of the kingdom will be revealed - to not be swayed by false promises of comfort because no one knows when that day will be. He calls his disciples to read the signs - much like we read the signs in nature and can tell that seasons are about to change - to know when he is about to be revealed. Keep watch - keep awake - be ready. God’s dream for the world is at hand. Throughout human history, we’ve lived through apocalyptic events - and I don’t mean apocalyptic in the “fire and brimstone raining down from the heavens” sense or the “world is going to end in destruction and peril” sense - but in the “end of an era” sense - the sense that means an end in our own particular way of viewing or understanding the world or the sense that reveals difficult stuff that previously wasn’t part of our collective experience and now we have to wrestle with sense. There have always been moments and eras in history that reveal just how entrenched we are in systems that aren’t life-giving for all. The pandemic revealed some pretty ugly stuff about our country’s health care system. These past years have continued to reveal injustices in how Black, Asian-American, Hispanic, and Indigenous folks experience the United States because of their racial identity. Or the deep economic disparity between those who have enormous wealth and those who work two jobs and are still unable to afford housing. Or how we are at a tipping point globally with how we address climate devastation - a crisis that impacts every single human being living on this planet. Being awake means that as God’s people, we stay attentive to the reality of the world. We don’t have to go so far as keeping the TV tuned to our favorite 24 hour news channel - but neither can we distance ourselves and pretend like we have no stake or obligation in issues of injustice (even if they seem distant from us). We keep awake because the fullness of the kingdom of God is at hand. We keep awake so that we can be aware of and moved by and can stand in solidarity with those who have been disempowered - whether through race, class, disability, orientation, or country of origin. We’re in a place as a society where we can see the effects that oppression has had over generations, where we can see the barriers that have been put up to the freedom offered in the gospel, the gates that have been erected through colonialism, white supremacy, homophobia, xenophobia, ableism. Hannah Garrity, creative partner of Sanctified Art, reflects, “When I think about the theme, Those who Dream, I see God’s people realizing God’s dream, right now. We are poised on a threshold. The dreams that we dream now will build the new world...God has reached each of us in our own way and we can see the dreams God has for us. We must break down the barriers to create space for God’s dreams...We can see the death, pain, poverty, and injury that systems of oppression have caused. We can see how colonialism was informed by selfish, oppressive thought. We can see that white supremacy has co-opted Christianity repeatedly since its birth. The gospel does not condone that...And we can also see—like a glimmer on the horizon, like a distant memory in the teachings of faith, like a phoenix from the ashes—the way that we can reimagine this world, this global society. We can see the way that God is calling us to break down and build up. We can see the dream, God's dream. Dream, then build.” If we’re going to be about waiting - about anticipating the kingdom of God, about staying awake -- our mental, emotional, spiritual energy needs to be invested in looking for that day - looking for the signs that will herald a new season, dreaming about what peace between people looks and feels like, imaging reconciliation and liberation, practicing hope and resurrection, spending time in prayer and study, and taking steps so that we can see clearly because the gospel promises us that the kingdom is right around the corner...not that God will come down from the outside and rebuild in a show of force and might...but because God moves in hearts and spirits, drawing us forward, moving within and between and waking people up to repentance and to resist evil, oppression, and injustice in whatever forms they present themselves. There are ways to be ready and to practice this way of living in God’s dream in the here and now - what immediately comes to mind for me is a story I read this week from WGBH about a congregation near Boston - United Parish of Brookline - and the work they are doing in light of conversations around racism in their community. One of the questions that arose for them was whether or not it was appropriate for them - as a predominantly white church - to sing Negro spirituals, especially as they were written by African people enslaved in America. There was growing discomfort around how to use them respectfully. The music director addressed this issue from the pulpit with the congregation - first by sharing that the term Negro Spirituals is the one preferred for these songs in many Black communities. Secondly she said that the church will begin the practice of collecting “royalties”; that whenever they sing Negro spirituals, they will collect an offering to support the development of Black musicians. They chose to donate these funds to a nonprofit youth music program in Roxbury, called Hamilton-Garrett Music and Arts, that is dedicated to teaching Negro spirituals to the next generation to carry on this tradition. In the music industry, if you publish music, you are compensated every time your song is published and purchased. You buy music for your choir, the composer gets part of the profit. When you buy a CD - same thing. Whenever I play a track on Spotify, an artist gets compensated. The problem is, however, the enslaved people who created this music were never rewarded for their art. So this is United Parish of Brookline’s way of making it right. It’s about putting their money where their mouth is in many ways, as they already have expressed deep commitments to the Black community in other ways. This is one congregation’s way of stepping into God’s dream to begin addressing injustice in a way that builds up and empowers, that uses privilege to raise awareness and invest in communities that have experienced marginalization. How can we keep awake to the reality around us - and step into building God’s dream for us here on the island? How can we live into that active, expectant hope that acknowledges both the world as it is and relentlessly pursues the world as God dreams it could be? enfleshed writes, “We do not know the “day or the hour,” when the scales will tip, when the change of seasons will come, when the end of a destructive era will be the beginning of something new, but we wait, actively, with hope.” End with this poem: All in All It takes strength to dream. I imagine it’s that same strength that leads people to say, “I love you” first, Those three vulnerable words, Wrapped in heart strings, Whispered, Because what could be Is too good to keep quiet about. It takes strength to choose joy. It takes strength to push the covers Off our weary bodies morning after morning, To plant weary feet on solid ground, And look for signs of beauty. It takes strength to remember that we are not alone, But the story starts with bone of bone and flesh of flesh. That feels like so long ago. Oh yes, It takes strength to dream. I imagine that’s why many choose not to, For it would be far easier to simply sleep. But there are always those who dream, Those who are up at night picturing what could be, Because this world is too good not to. So we say, “I love you.” We push the covers off. We find solid ground. We look for beauty. And we dream. We dare to dream. written by: Rev. Sarah Are. May we keep awake this Advent season - and dream God’s dream together. Amen. Scripture - Jeremiah 29:10-14
Jeremiah 29:10-14, New Revised Standard Version 10 For thus says the Lord: Only when Babylon’s seventy years are completed will I visit you, and I will fulfill to you my promise and bring you back to this place. 11 For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope. 12 Then when you call upon me and come and pray to me, I will hear you. 13 When you search for me, you will find me; if you seek me with all your heart, 14 I will let you find me, says the Lord, and I will restore your fortunes and gather you from all the nations and all the places where I have driven you, says the Lord, and I will bring you back to the place from which I sent you into exile. Stewardship Moment Sermon As I was preparing to write the sermon for this week, I took a quick scan through my files to see when the last time I preached from this passage - and March 15th, 2020 came up...the last in-person service we had before the world shut down. We were in the middle of a series based on the book God Unbound by Elaine Heath and were starting to do some beautiful deep work together about the tradition behind our tradition, about how understand the story of our lives in light of the story of God’s work in Christ and in the world, and the whole book is about using wisdom from the book of Galatians to invite the church to follow the Holy Spirit's leadership beyond buildings and programs to join what Jesus is doing in the world. And then….the pandemic started. Everything got tossed up into the air, out the window, and there was little solid ground on which to stand. That Sunday was one of the rare times when I trashed the sermon I had written in favor of something different - and this scripture passage was the one I felt led to share. So to see it come up again today as the basis of our congregation’s Stewardship campaign - A Future with Hope - made me think about the incredible journey we’ve been on together over the past 20 months with the pandemic...and even longer with our discernment about our denominational relationship...and the challenging work we’ve done for over two years. Because it has been tough - we've all been impacted by loss, isolation, disorientation, wanting and yearning for the familiar. There are emotional and psychological wounds that many of us have experienced over the past 18 months and that we continue to carry because of the upheaval in our lives and because some of what we held as sacred and certain we could no longer cling to in the same way. With things as mundane as being able to go to the grocery store and get toilet paper - when the staples we rely on aren’t on the shelves - flour...carrots...all unpredictable...and how that connects in with our greater supply chain issues. Or how housing prices have skyrocketed, making it difficult for people who are working hard to afford homes and apartments and leading to greater instability and insecurity. Most of us had our basic needs threatened at some point over these nearly two years - physiological needs for rest and shelter and access to food...safety needs like health and emotional well-being or financial security...love and belonging needs as we isolated from one another. That’s a lot for us as a people to carry...certainly a lot for us as individuals...and we’ve been carrying it for so long to a greater or lesser extent that this disorienting experience is going to leave its mark on who we are for a long time...nevermind the fact that we’ve had almost 770 thousand deaths in the United States related to COVID and the amount or grief we as a people are carrying. Also nevermind that during this time we saw threats to our democracy and extreme racial tension. And that’s where we enter into our Old Testament text - from the prophet Jeremiah, which might seem a little bit counterintuitive for us this morning as we think about Stewardship and celebrating lofty goals and new beginnings of this Community Church….but if we think about our story - the journey we’ve walked, the challenges we’ve faced, the disorientation and wilderness wandering and having to piece life back together after it’s been torn apart - it’s not a new story. It’s a story we see right here in the scripture passage - Jeremiah is speaking these words to the Jewish people after they had been wrenched from their homes and forced into exile by the Babylonians. They were living in a strange land with strange people with strange customs. Their whole sense of who they were as a people had been shattered. They couldn’t worship God in the Temple. Life as they knew it would never be the same. Their world had utterly changed. They missed their former life, they desperately wanted to go back to what was familiar and “normal” -- I don’t know about you, but that desire really resonates...especially navigating those early days of the pandemic. Jeremiah, however, tells the Israelites -- cautions them, in fact -- not to end the exile too early, not to rush back to “normal” life without learning the lessons that emerge when one adjusts to new things. Jeremiah tells them to ground themselves in Babylon, to root themselves there - I want to read for you now the portion of scripture that immediately precedes this passage, from the same chapter, starting in verse 4: 4 Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel, to all the exiles whom I have sent into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: 5 Build houses and live in them; plant gardens and eat what they produce. 6 Take wives and have sons and daughters; take wives for your sons, and give your daughters in marriage, that they may bear sons and daughters; multiply there, and do not decrease. 7 But seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find your welfare. 8 For thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel: Do not let the prophets and the diviners who are among you deceive you, and do not listen to the dreams that they dream, 9 for it is a lie that they are prophesying to you in my name; I did not send them, says the Lord. Jeremiah says, yes, things are going to be tough - for a long time. Anyone who promises you a different outcome, is giving you false hope and is stringing you along. What God wants for you is to live here. Grow here. Build here. Plant gardens here. Marry and have babies here. Seek this community’s peace and welfare - there are things to learn here...there are things to do here. And I will be with you - and I know the plans I have for you - for your flourishing and your prospering and to give you a future with hope. But that future with hope starts in doing the hard work of building life in a strange and foreign place. Building life in a strange and foreign place - isn’t that what we all saw at the beginning of the pandemic? People singing across alleys in neighborhoods. People making lunches for kids because they knew that with school closed, the kids would be hungry. People looking to support local businesses because they knew the challenge of staying afloat. Even the earth and wildlife reasserting itself in cleaner air and greener spaces as we paused and looked toward building meaningful connections with each other to help us get through. The pandemic revealed so many lessons for us about building a just and equitable society - some of which we’re still trying to learn. We learned about health and wellbeing, checking in with each other, about how to work together and how we need each other and the deep ways that physically being able to gather together is part of what it means to be human. And we - as the Chebeague Community Church - did that work so well. The church has played a huge part in keeping this community moving forward during the pandemic - all while we took a huge leap of faith in stepping out into a new future apart from the United Methodist Church. We stepped up to be a network of support for this community - whether that was through tangible needs like food or meals or a fiscal home for on-island testing and vaccination clinics or whether that was through meeting needs for support and encouragement through writing cards and gathering for worship or in smaller groups for prayer and honest sharing. We held sacred space for people to share and process everything from how to respond to racial injustice and continued divisions in our country and how do I navigate my friends and family who believe differently from me and how are we going to heal from this collective trauma we’ve experienced -- the church has been the place where those conversations and wrestlings and wonderings have happened. What a gift to have a place where we can share in this way with one another -- and what a gift that we can appreciate together - as we see how faithful God has been with us and the blessing we experienced even in the midst of this disorienting time...and how faithful God will be. And as we continue to emerge from this phase of the pandemic and we can be a place of hope and healing for all of us as we find ways to bear witness to the pain and challenge of this time, as we address the mental health crisis the pandemic has revealed, and as we begin, with God’s help, to put the pieces back together again. Even in the midst of crisis, God says to us, “I will fulfill to you my promise and bring you back to this place. For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.” We were sent out in exile - and have come back in reunion - and again and again we come back in homecoming to this place to be sent out into the world to be a people of hope and healing. That’s what this stewardship campaign aims to do - to help us continue to be a place of hope and healing for this island and beyond - as we dedicate a portion of what God has placed at our disposal for God’s use through the church, pledging our gifts for next year. You all have a pledge card - and on one side there is financial information, and that is important for us as well. We do rely on financial gifts from this island for our operational expenses - for our programs, for staff, for things like heat and lights and insurance and property taxes. Nearly all of the money we use to operate the church on a day-to-day basis is from individual givers - not from grants or investments. The other side...is blank. That’s because it’s going to be where we write what other gifts we want to give to God. Maybe you’re being led to offer 2 hours per week in service to the church. Maybe you’re being led to dedicate some time to knitting some prayer shawls. Or calling people in the hospital on behalf of the church. Or spending more time learning about the Bible with others in the church. Or collecting items to help refugees enjoy their first Maine winter. Or organizing a mission trip or service opportunity. So while one side is for our financial gifts to give to the church next year -- the other side is for what else we want to lift up for God’s use in the coming year. I’m going to give you a few minutes to fill out the card - and when you fill it out, you can come forward and place it in the basket up front here. For those of you who are here digitally, you can either take a picture of the card and email it to the church, message it to me, or you can mail it back to us. We’ll end with a prayer, dedicating all our gifts for God’s use in the world. [couple minutes for folks to write those things - place in basket - prayer at end] Because a Future with Hope isn’t just built with dollars and cents. But with Prayer. Study. Worship. Advocacy. Mission. Children. Teaching. Gardens. Potlucks. Prayer Shawls and Prayer Flags. Art. Poetry. Music. Helping. Caring. Sharing. A Future with Hope is built by creating a shared life....by creating a home base from which we do mission in the world...by creating and holding sacred space together. Let us pray. Gracious and Generous God, over and over, we become scattered and separated. Over and over, like a good shepherd, you find us and bring us home. For all the togetherness you’ve granted us at the Chebeague Community Church, thank you. For the gift of faith that gets us through times of separation, thank you. For prayer shawls, our food pantry, our book studies, our times of worship, for encouraging messages and places of connection, for Zoom - we give you thanks. In your generosity and grace, O God, use these gifts we commit to you for the building up of this church...for the building up of this community, so that you might make our separations easier, our homecomings even more joyful, and that we might have a future with hope, built on your great love for all of us. Amen. |
AuthorPastor Melissa Yosua-Davis has been serving the community of Chebeague and its church since July 2015. She currently lives on the island with her husband and five year old son and 2 year old daughter, along with their yellow lab. Read here recent sermon excerpts, thoughts on life and faith, and current announcements for the church community. She also blogs at Going on to Perfection. Archives
December 2022
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