Winthrop Congregational Church, United Church of Christ
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Luke 1:5-13 The Birth of John the Baptist Foretold (New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition) In the days of King Herod of Judea, there was a priest named Zechariah, who belonged to the priestly order of Abijah. His wife was descended from the daughters of Aaron, and her name was Elizabeth. Both of them were righteous before God, living blamelessly according to all the commandments and regulations of the Lord. But they had no children because Elizabeth was barren, and both were getting on in years. Once when he was serving as priest before God during his section’s turn of duty, he was chosen by lot, according to the custom of the priesthood, to enter the sanctuary of the Lord to offer incense. Now at the time of the incense offering, the whole assembly of the people was praying outside. Then there appeared to him an angel of the Lord, standing at the right side of the altar of incense. When Zechariah saw him, he was terrified, and fear overwhelmed him. But the angel said to him, “Do not be afraid, Zechariah, for your prayer has been heard. Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you will name him John. Four Sundays. Four words to help guide us through the season of Advent. What are the four words that will guide our worship over the next four weeks? Does anyone remember? Hope, Peace, Joy, and Love. What is today’s theme? Hope. Advent always begins with hope. The name for the season Advent comes from the Latin word “adventus,” which means “coming” or “arrival.” Who are we hoping will come during the season of Advent? Jesus. That’s right. Like anyone who is expecting a new member of the family, we are getting ourselves and our place ready for their arrival. Because, as with any new member of the household, Jesus’ arrival will change everything.
We have already done a few things to prepare. We’ve added special paraments in purple to remind us of the season. We’ve added a tree that we will decorate throughout the season. We’ve added the special wreath of candles, one of which we’ll light every week. Does anyone light candles at home, too? If you want some candles and don’t have them yet, we have some out in the lobby. You’re welcome to take them when you leave worship today. In the Northern Hemisphere, where practices of Advent first developed, we start these practices of hopeful expectation in the darkest part of the year. Together, we’ll move towards the winter solstice, where the days would finally start to get longer again, days after which we will celebrate Christ’s birth. I’ve often wondered if part of the reason we want to have extra candles around during Advent is because we need a little more light and warmth in the dark and the cold. It has come to mean a lot to me personally that something beautiful and powerful and awe-inspiring and overwhelming will arrive in the darkest season. And we’ve been handed down tools to make our way through the dark together. There are people we usually talk about during Advent. For those of you who have celebrated Advent before, can you remember some of those people? You may have heard some of their names in the story Lacey read for today. (let the congregation name some of the people, who might include Mary, Joseph, Herod, Elizabeth, Zechariah, Angels, maybe Jesus’ whole family line, the magi, shepherds, Herod). Our reading today started by telling us the name of a king to help us understand what time frame we’re hearing about. What was that king’s name? Herod. Was Herod a kind king? No. He wasn’t. In a commentary on our story, Dr. Boyung Lee, who is a professor at a theology school in Colorado, reminds us that Herod had been appointed the leader of Judea by Rome. The people of Judea were accustomed to having a king that they thought God appointed, not an outside nation. Herod, and everyone else, knew he only had the job of king because Rome wanted him to. They could remove him at any time. He would become cruel and mean-spirited, hurting anyone who he worried was trying to remove him from power. He was not a kind king. He was a bully who was mean to the people he was supposed to be taking care of because he was afraid. Part of what is powerful about Jesus’ birth is that he won’t come into the world when everything is perfect and in a place where everything is just right. The Gospel of Luke wants us to see God’s Word become a human in the midst of a hard time in a place led by dangerous people. God will be born into humanity in a special way within a regular family living in a challenging time. This family was also a family that was being sustained by their faith in a hard time. We’ll learn more about that as we meet Jesus’ parents. Even in his extended family, who we meet in today’s story, faith in God was a vital part of their lives. Elizabeth and Zechariah, Mary’s older cousin and her husband, were deeply faithful people. And even they were surprised by God in this story. Elizabeth and Zechariah wanted to have a baby but had never been able to do so. Dr. Lee reminds us that in this time, if you wanted to have children but were unable to become pregnant, lots of people thought that meant God was mad at you and therefore wouldn’t help you to become pregnant. The Bible tells us that God wasn’t mad at them, though. They just were having a hard time having a baby and had thought that they were so old that they never would. But, as Dr. Lee says in our devotional, “their faith endured, even in waiting.” They are good examples for us as people living in a hard time both because they had a wicked king and because of medical issues in their family. They show us how faith and our faith practices can be a tool for making our way into a future that is unclear. It’s interesting, isn’t it, that when the angel of God appears to Zechariah, even though he was faithful and hoped something like this would happen, he was still afraid. We don’t stop being afraid of surprising things just because we love God. Dr. Lee points out that Zechariah isn’t just slightly startled. He’s afraid in a way that leaves him shaken in body and spirit. When enough bad stuff happens, we can come to expect only bad things. Or, as Dr. Lee puts it, “we may grow so used to disappointment that when hope finally arrives, it startles us. When God interrupts, we flinch.” One of my hopes for us in this season of Advent, is that we can be reminded that fear is a natural response to scary things and uncertain things, but we mustn’t let fear totally shape how we engage with the world. Today’s scripture shows us a God who hears our fears first. And then, responds to them. Dr. Lee points out that Zechariah’s fear does not disqualify him from receiving a gift from God. Instead, this moment of fear is the beginning of Zechariah’s transformation. The transformation will not be easy. Zechariah’s not going to be able to speak for a while... like the entire nine months of Elizabeth’s pregnancy. Elizabeth seems to have gotten most of the bravery in the family. Eventually, her faithfulness appears to move her husband. When their son is born and she wants to name him John, Zechariah agrees with her that that will be their child’s name. In standing up for and with his wife, Zechariah finally allows himself to be overcome with hope and is able to speak again. Fear is a part of his story, but it doesn’t stop him from being present with his wife, and it doesn’t stop him from embracing the son he thought he’d never have. I read a commentary from the Salt Project this week that talked about a Christian monk named Bernard of Clairvaux, who lived about 900 years ago. Bernard wrote about “three Advents.” The first Advent was when Jesus was born into a human family. The third Advent will be Jesus’ return in the future. He called everything thing else that is happening between that first Christmas and Christ’s return the “middle Advent.” We are living in that Middle Advent. This is the “everyday arrival of Jesus” in our ritual life at church, in the Spirit that moves us in our hearts and minds, and in the faces of the hungry and thirsty people, weary asylum seekers, and those isolated in prison. As we go about the work we’re called to, as Zechariah worked in the temple, we may find ourselves afraid and overwhelmed. Let us remember that our fear does not make us incapable of carrying out the mission God calls us to. And, in the end, may our faith and hope overwhelm the fear that has kept us silent. God has heard our prayer. May we hear God’s messengers who assure us that the future we have hoped for can still come to pass. Resources consulted while writing this sermon: General Advent info: https://www.saltproject.org/progressive-christian-blog/2019/11/26/be-ready-salts-lectionary-commentary-for-advent-week-one A nice history of Advent from the United Methodist Church: https://www.umcdiscipleship.org/book-of-worship/advent An introduction to the season from the UCC: https://www.ucc.org/sermon-seeds/2025-2026-advent-and-christmas-series-may-peace-be-within-you/ Boyung Lee, "In the Time of Herod, We Long for God to Break In, " from What Do You Fear? Insisting on Hope This Advent, a devotional from A Sanctified Art: https://sanctifiedart.org/what-do-you-fear-advent-devotional-booklet
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Luke 20:27-38 The Resurrection and Marriage (New International Version) Some of the Sadducees, who say there is no resurrection, came to Jesus with a question. “Teacher,” they said, “Moses wrote for us that if a man’s brother dies and leaves a wife but no children, the man must marry the widow and raise up offspring for his brother. Now there were seven brothers. The first one married a woman and died childless. The second and then the third married her, and in the same way the seven died, leaving no children. Finally, the woman died too. Now then, at the resurrection whose wife will she be, since the seven were married to her?” Jesus replied, “The people of this age marry and are given in marriage. But those who are considered worthy of taking part in the age to come and in the resurrection from the dead will neither marry nor be given in marriage, and they can no longer die; for they are like the angels. They are God’s children, since they are children of the resurrection. But in the account of the burning bush, even Moses showed that the dead rise, for he calls the Lord ‘the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.’ He is not the God of the dead, but of the living, for to him all are alive.” I had never met the pastor who officiated my brother’s memorial service, so I didn’t know what to expect when he began. I hadn’t actually known my brother particularly well. We hadn’t grown up together and had only spent a little time together as adults. His death was unexpected and pretty traumatic for our family. I was grateful to have financial support from the conference to get a last-minute ticket to be able to attend his service to support our relatives who knew him well and loved him dearly.
My brother had come to know the pastor because he had been a part of a recovery ministry that the pastor’s church ran. It made sense that they asked him to preside. I say this from experience: it is challenging to preside at a service when someone has died young and unexpectedly, especially if you don’t have an on-going pastoral relationship with the family, which this pastor did not. He knew that he could really only count on having this service to offer a word of care to the people who loved Randy most. As both a pastor and a family member, I had some worries going in. I know that some pastors use funerals as a time to try to what I would generously describe as “increase their flock.” I would less generously describe as manipulating grieving people into faith confessions. While I know this can happen anywhere (when I’ve officiated services for community members I don’t know in Maine, I’ve had families express concern that I would do the same), it is particularly common where I grew up. And, I’ve heard people try to explain away deaths that seem especially tragic by saying things like, “God needed an angel.” I really didn’t think either of those things would help our family. You might imagine my relief when the pastor shared something both kind and wise. He noted that my brother had a son he loved dearly and said out right, “God did not take Randy from his son.” He went on to say, “Our God is the God of the living.” And, in his mind, the God of the living does not take people from the ones they love. Instead, God is there in support of those who mourn, grieving alongside them. I imagine this statement of faith was hard won for pastor who’d spent a lot of his career serving people struggling with addiction. I am grateful that he shared this assurance with the people gathered to mourn Randy. I imagine that many of them had not heard that sentiment from a pulpit before. And, at least some of them really needed to hear it that day. When I read today’s scripture where Jesus is answering questions about family, death, and faith, I remembered this pastor. I can see why he drew from the language of this text to address my grieving family. Since well before the time of Christ, faithful people have been sorting out issues around death and relationships among family members. Jesus’ own community had developed cultural, religious practices around marriage to widows with no children. The practice, levirate marriage, is described in full in Deuteronomy 25:5-10. Practically, levirate marriage helped settle questions of inheritance and financial support for survivors in a family. Personally, I’d imagine it was complicated. And, theologically, for those who believe in some kind of resurrection, they might have some questions about how the family would be composed in the world to come. One important difference between how my family approached the pastor in the story I told as compared to how to the Sadducees approached Jesus is that my family was acting in good faith. Multiple scholars I read while writing this sermon suggested that the Sadducees did not. In his commentary on the text, Kyle Brooks suggests that the question is fanciful and designed primarily to force Jesus into a theological corner. Fred Craddock, in his commentary on Luke, argues that the question obviously isn’t in good faith because it is a question about the state of renewed like after resurrection being asked by people who fundamentally didn’t believe in the resurrection. He believes the questioners are asking this for argument’s sake. Kendra Mohn, in her commentary, even suggests that the Sadducees are asking Jesus this question in hope that his answer will allow them to “expose how ludicrous the idea of resurrection is.” Lest we think all ancient or even all current Jewish people all believe the exact same thing, it is good to be reminded of some differences in belief between the Sadducees and Jesus’ more regular conversation partners, the Pharisees. The Pharisees, devout religious scholars, believed in bodily resurrection and held up the Torah, the writings of the Prophets, and the oral traditions of interpretation as authoritative. The argument for Resurrection comes from those traditions. The Sadducees were a priestly class, many of whom were wealthy and from aristocratic families. They were pretty conservative theologically and also only held the first five books of Moses to be authoritative scripture. Cultural practices and interpretations that were not found in Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, or Deuteronomy were not justified to them. Therefore, they did not believe in the resurrection. This would have cause conflict between them and the Pharissees (and those who followed Pharasaic interpretation) and between them and Jesus. While Craddock and Brooks especially ultimately believe the Sadducees do not ask the question in good faith, Jesus answers in earnestly. First, Jesus says that the question misses the point because life in this age is different from the life to come. As Mohn notes in her commentary, “Here, with the limitations of time, space, and human sin, we rely on practices to keep things orderly.” Levitate marriage had a purpose within the strictures of life as they knew it. The life that is to come will be different and cannot be understood within the same boundaries as life as we now understand it. It will be so very different that one thing that seems certain now, that is death, will no longer have the power to end it. Pointing to the story of Moses and the burning bush, and the practice of speaking of the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob. Because God is God of the living, these three are not dead but alive. There is an on-goingness of relationship between God and these figures but also between these figures and present believers. It is much like the communion of saints and cloud of witnesses that I spoke of last week. The connection to those who have gone before is not gone, but is on-going, though changed. Mohn argues that Jesus’ comments on life and death are actually intended to shape how a believer lives. How might our lives change if we understand that the life God intends for us will be categorically different the bounded one we can imagine right now? How might we live differently if we were to understand that the practices and systems and institutions that give us form to survive this moment were not everlasting? What if that which seems inevitable, even as inevitable as death, were ultimately overcome? Mohn says, “Jesus is calling us to imagine what it is like to live without the fear of death so that we can approach our lives differently.” How brave might we be if we understand ourselves to be ever-connected to those who came before us and deeply rooted for those who will come after us? There are those who seek power over life and death for their own gain. Our disconnection from one another, our fear of losing our standing, our relationships, our security, is useful for those who seek this kind of power. The Apostle Paul once wrote, “For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus Our Lord.” He is ultimately talking about the power of a God of the Living who can remind us that there is a world possible that we have not yet imagined. We must therefore reject those who tell us that this is the way the world must be. We know that is not true. Let us live like we are sure that there is a new life to come. And, that we can be part of building it. Resources consulted while writing this sermon: Kendra Mohn: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-32-3/commentary-on-luke-2027-38-6 Kyle Brooks: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-32-3/commentary-on-luke-2027-38-5 Bernard Levinson's notes on Deuteronomy in The New Oxford Annotated Bible: The New Revised Standard Version with Apocryphya, ed. Michael Coogan (New York: Oxford University Press, 2001) Marion Lloyd Soards' notes on Luke in The New Oxford Annotated Bible: The New Revised Standard Version with Apocryphya, ed. Michael Coogan (New York: Oxford University Press, 2001) Fred Craddock, Luke (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009). Isaiah 25:1, 4,6-10a Praise to the Lord (New International Version) 25 Lord, you are my God; I will exalt you and praise your name, for in perfect faithfulness you have done wonderful things, things planned long ago. You have been a refuge for the poor, a refuge for the needy in their distress, a shelter from the storm and a shade from the heat. For the breath of the ruthless is like a storm driving against a wall. On this mountain the Lord Almighty will prepare a feast of rich food for all peoples, a banquet of aged wine— the best of meats and the finest of wines. On this mountain he will destroy the shroud that enfolds all peoples, the sheet that covers all nations; he will swallow up death forever. The Sovereign Lord will wipe away the tears from all faces; he will remove his people’s disgrace from all the earth. The Lord has spoken. In that day they will say, “Surely this is our God; we trusted in him, and he saved us. This is the Lord, we trusted in him; let us rejoice and be glad in his salvation.” The hand of the Lord will rest on this mountain. Before I begin, let’s all turn to our bulletins. Look at the two songs we are singing together today. What word is in the title of both songs? Saint! Can anyone tell me what a saint is? There are so many ways to talk about saints! In some churches, when they talk about “saints,” it’s kind of like they are talking about churchy super heroes... people who were devout in their faith, who loved Jesus and their neighbor so much that the church believes they deserve a fancy, special title. These saints can continue to help people, even after they’ve been gone from this earth a long time. St. Michael, St. Catherine, St. Jude, St. Nicholas, and St. Francis Xavier are some of this kind of saint.
Not all Christians use the word “saint” that specifically, though. There is someone named Carolyn Brown who’s job it was before she retired to develop Sunday School programs. She says that “Saints are people through whom God shines. Each saint shows us a different part of God.” I read another pastor who said, “A saint is someone who loves and follows Jesus.” And, this doesn’t just have to be people in stories in the Bible or famous people. Every day, regular people who try hard to love God and love their neighbors are saints, too. We might think of saints as people like Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., a pastor who fought for civil rights as a saint. Or, Rev. Dr. Pauli Murray, one of the first women ordained to the priesthood in the Episcopal Church and a civil rights lawyer, as saints. But, according to the Bible, the people who are sitting right next to you in the pews can be saints. In this room are the saints that break down boxes at the food pantry, and the saints that make brownies for the church fair, and the saints who write cards to people who are sick and the saints who call their congress people and fight for people who don’t have enough food. There are saints here that keep track of my receipts and teach Sunday School and make music and clean up flower beds. The apostle Paul talked about Christians who are “called to belong to Christ” as also being “called to be saints.” We are all, then, called to be saints. I’m talking about saints because today we are celebrating a special day in the church year called All Saints Day. This is a day in the church calendar where we remember the saints of the church and give thanks for them. I read someone described the saints as Christians who have come before us and are with us now as “cheering (for us) and encouraging us on” as we develop our relationship with God and neighbor. At a recent gathering of clergy that I went to, I described what it’s like to go rock-climbing at the gym at Colby. When I am there, I have someone called a belayer who is connected to me by a rope. They keep me from falling to the ground if I slip. They also help me figure how to climb higher if I get stuck. Other people who are waiting to climb cheer and help, too. The saints feel like that are doing those things for us while we are maturing in our faith and service. Sometimes when we talk about saints, we’re talking especially about people who have taught us about the faith and served with us at church who have also died. I read something by someone named Joe Iovino who said, “From the early days of Christianity, there is a sense that the Church consists of not only all living believers, but also all who have gone before us.” We believe that as Christians, we are all part of one community, not just with those in our church, but with people from all places and times. In book called Hebrews, which is really an ancient Christian sermon, the author tells us we are surrounded by a “great cloud of witnesses” who help us persevere. This means people who have come before us, even when they aren’t alive anymore, are watching over us and encouraging us as we try to be good people and be faithful to God. One activity we might do on All Saints Day is offer up a prayer of thanksgiving and remembrance for those who are no longer here with us in the body, but who have joined the great cloud of witnesses. We might lift up the names of Jack Everett, Martha Payne, Lee Gilman, and Kate Goodspeed as the saints who have gone from our side to God’s arms this year. You may have others you want to make sure to remember. As you came into church, you were handed a leaf. I invite you to write on that leaf the names of some of the saints that you’d like to remember and give thanks for today. There will come a point in the service where I will invite you to come forward and add them to this memory tree. If you are online, you can add the names of your saints to the chat. Today, we also remember that, even though we can’t see them, the people we love and all the saints who have come before us are still with us. Today’s scripture reading is from the prophet Isaiah, speaking about how they know that God intends good things for creation. God is a trustworthy refuge to the poor and to those who are in distress. Isaiah calls God “a shelter from the storm and a shade from the heat.” They understand that God will provide for everyone’s needs, and will ultimately even conquer death, wiping away the tears from every face and the shame that people feel. This is an image of God whose power is mostly clearly seen in compassion, in a meal shared by everyone who wants and needs to eat. We’re going to have communion today, too. As we eat this simple meal together, let us give thanks to God who gave us the saints who have helped God offer mercy and care to those who need it. Death, while still real, does not fully separate us from the saints who have come before. Let us hear and know that God will offer care for all who mourn and for all nations. And, let us come together to praise God for the saints who are still showing us the way to Christ. Resources consulted while writing this sermon: Illustrated Ministry's Sunday School lesson on All Saints: https://store.illustratedministry.com/products/childrens-bundle-all-saints-day?variant=29568207519842 Carolyn Brown: https://worshipingwithchildren.blogspot.com/2014/10/year-all-saints-day-saturday-november-1.html A couple helpful resource from the United Methodist Church:
Stephen B. Reid: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-28/commentary-on-isaiah-251-9 Acts 10:1-17, 34-35 (New International Version) Cornelius Calls for Peter At Caesarea there was a man named Cornelius, a centurion in what was known as the Italian Regiment. He and all his family were devout and God-fearing; he gave generously to those in need and prayed to God regularly. One day at about three in the afternoon he had a vision. He distinctly saw an angel of God, who came to him and said, “Cornelius!” Cornelius stared at him in fear. “What is it, Lord?” he asked. The angel answered, “Your prayers and gifts to the poor have come up as a memorial offering before God. Now send men to Joppa to bring back a man named Simon who is called Peter. He is staying with Simon the tanner, whose house is by the sea.” When the angel who spoke to him had gone, Cornelius called two of his servants and a devout soldier who was one of his attendants. He told them everything that had happened and sent them to Joppa. Peter’s Vision About noon the following day as they were on their journey and approaching the city, Peter went up on the roof to pray. He became hungry and wanted something to eat, and while the meal was being prepared, he fell into a trance. He saw heaven opened and something like a large sheet being let down to earth by its four corners. It contained all kinds of four-footed animals, as well as reptiles and birds. Then a voice told him, “Get up, Peter. Kill and eat.” “Surely not, Lord!” Peter replied. “I have never eaten anything impure or unclean.” The voice spoke to him a second time, “Do not call anything impure that God has made clean.” This happened three times, and immediately the sheet was taken back to heaven. While Peter was wondering about the meaning of the vision, the men sent by Cornelius found out where Simon’s house was and stopped at the gate. Then Peter began to speak: “I now realize how true it is that God does not show favoritism but accepts from every nation the one who fears him and does what is right. There weren’t really cops in ancient Rome. There were Roman soldiers, tasked with keeping the kind of peace Rome wanted, by any violent means necessary. Well trained in Roman military strategy and usually well equipped with weapons and armor, they were imposing forces in every place that Rome stationed them to control the local population. It is rare that any people being occupied speaks well of their occupier. That is as true of the earliest of Jesus’ disciples as it is of anyone now who resents the presence of soldiers they did not call and who do not necessarily have their well-being at the forefront of their minds.
Centurions were soldiers with command responsibility over one hundred soldiers in a Roman legion. Each legion would be between 5,400 and 6,000 soldiers, as well as additional auxiliary troops recruited from the people Rome was occupying. Centurions within a legion might also be of lesser or higher rank, with the highest-ranking Centurion being a kind of “knight” among Roman nobility. Men who achieved this rank were a part of a small but prestigious group of military leaders. According to the research I read in writing this sermon, the highest-ranking centurions could retire with quite the pension. Their wealth and the power that came from their station as respected agents of Rome would mean that in many towns, they would be considered among the “notable” citizens. Cornelius isn’t the only “good” Centurion that pops up in the Gospels. In Luke 7, a centurion desperate to save the life of a person he enslaved reached out to Jesus for help. That Centurion had Jewish elders who would vouch for him. They said, “He is worthy of having you do this for him, for he loves our people. And, it is he who build our synagogue.” The fact that the elders feel the need to vouch for him tells us something about a typical Centurion/Israelite relationship. Usually, there would not have been much trust there. But, there was here. The Centurion, himself speaks with great humility towards Jesus, sending friends to Jesus in his stead, sharing that he believes himself unworthy of speaking to Jesus in person, but still he hopes that Jesus will heal the person he has enslaved and trusts that Jesus can with just one word. Jesus is amazed by the centurion’s faith, saying, “not even in Israel have I found such faith.” When the friends returned to the centurion’s home, the enslaved person is once again in good health. There is also a centurion at the crucifixion in both Mark and Luke. In Luke, the centurion who had supervised the soldier who had treated Jesus so cruelly and thrown lots for his clothes, still managed to be moved when Jesus breathed his last breath, saying “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” That centurion praised God (and we are to understand that this is the God of the Jewish people, not one of the Roman pantheons), and said “Certainly this man was innocent.” Acts, the book today’s reading came from, is the sequel to Luke. Luke may have been priming us to understand that even the agents of the empire could use their power for good. Even the agents of the empire could craft a faith that brought healing. Everyone in this room is a descendant of Cornelius. Ruthanna B. Hooke points that out in her commentary. Many scholars argue that this story of Peter’s Spirit-inspired change of heart that allows him to be in relationship with Cornelius is the turning point of the entire book of Acts, and probably the turning point of the early church. I’ve talked before about how one of the most contentious arguments within the first generation of the church was whether one had to follow Jewish religious laws in order to follow Jesus. Religious restrictions around food, both what you eat and with whom you share it, were particularly contentious in a religious community that centered itself around a meal shared in memory of Jesus. If you’ve spent your whole life building communal identity through one set of shared ritual obligations, it can feel threatening to be told that you don’t have to follow them the same way anymore. When you’ve cultivated a sense of safety by being leery of agents of an empire who happily help crucify you, it can feel threatening to imagine building relationships with citizens of that empire. It is no small thing that the Spirit led the early leaders of the church to find ways to welcome Gentiles into full fellowship. Nearly everyone here is a part of the church 2000 years later because Peter and Paul were led to do this. Today’s scripture is Peter’s story. We’ve already heard some of Paul’s. The earlier centurions of Luke and the Ethiopian Eunuch, another faithful Gentile back in Acts 8, were perhaps foreshadowing for this story. The Good Samaritan might have been a little bit of one, too, though they were in a little different category than Gentiles when it came to matters of ritual purity. The story of Pentecost in Acts 2 including a word that God would “pour out my Spirit on all flesh.” This story is a natural extension of that promise. Ruthanna Hooke and Israel Kamudzandu both point out in their commentaries that the inclusion of Gentiles into the church was not something the disciples expected or maybe he wanted to happen. This is all God’s work, moving the Spirit to change the hearts of the leaders of the early church. The Spirit must have already been working on Cornelius, because, while he had not officially become Jewish, he like the Ethiopian before him, prayed steadily to the Jewish God and gave money to people who needed it, a core devotional act for those following this God. God sees him and knows him and wants to welcome him into fellowship. God’s messenger makes that clear, and tells Cornelius how to make his inner commitment to God develop into a full relationship with the followers of the Incarnation. This is only possible because Cornelius had already been walking in faith. Now, the Spirit is directing him to other pilgrims who will join him. Like the first centurion in Luke, he sends trusted people ahead of him, this time to find Peter, instead of Jesus. Peter, for his part, will be moved by a wild dream of food he knows he’s not supposed to eat. Remember, this isn’t food he’s allergic to or something. This is food his community has opted not to eat as a demonstrate of their commitment to the covenant with their God. He could not more imagine eating some of these foods than he could imagine turning his back on Christ. And, yet, the Spirit spoke to him and said he was called to do a new thing in faith. “What God has made clean, you must not call profane.” This happened three times in the dream. Peter was still trying to figure out what to make of this dream when the group that Cornelius sent shows up at the home where he was staying. In his commentary on the text, Andrew Warner notes that tanners had, and still have, a job that many find unsavory. Tanners work with animal carcasses. They cured hides with human urine, aged until in turned into ammonia. All tanners lived with a certain amount of stigma due to their smelly, messy, bloody work. Warner notes that Jewish tanners also risked religious impurity because of their work. In spending time with the tanner, Peter is already showing us Christians, once again, that early Christians spent much time among the outcast and marginalized in a community. We probably shouldn’t be surprised that the Spirit would also move them into relationship with those who might have more power due to their connections to the Roman occupation, but less trust due to the same thing. Christ will find a way to build relationship among those who seek to love their neighbors. And, Cornelius loved his neighbors. The Spirit tells Peter to go with the men back to Cornelius’ home. The dream was to show him that God would be ok with it. They describe Cornelius as faithful and “well-spoken of by the whole Jewish nation.” That means his generosity and faithfulness appeared sincere to his neighbors. How a person acts matters. And, Cornelius acted out of generosity demanded in Torah. Peter and Cornelius meet. We didn’t hear most of their encounter today, but it is a good one.... good enough to change the whole nature of the church ever more. Peter said “God told me not to call anyone profane or unclean.” And, Cornelius says, “God told me to go find you and listen to what you have to say.” He says that his whole household was ready to hear what good news Peter would bring. Peter starts his good news with these words, “I truly understand that God shows no partiality, and in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him.” Then, he goes on to tell him about Jesus. In the verses after today’s reading, the Gentiles of Cornelius’s household received Peter’s words and received the Holy Spirit, as the disciples did at Pentecost. They began speaking in tongues they had not known before, because they had to say something about this good news that was made clear to them and the old words they had simply would not suffice. Peter will know this moment is important and will say, “Can anyone withhold the water for baptizing these people who have received the Holy Spirit just as we have?” No one could. So, they baptized the whole Gentile household. And, then they stay together for several days. May the Spirit move us to share so much that all will know us by our generosity, just like Cornelius. May we be moved like Peter was to see all people as God’s people. May we speak well of God’s whole creation, and live a life where our neighbors speak well of us. Our generosity will be what helps us find our way to Christ. Resources consulted while writing this sermon: The notes on Centurion in in the HarperCollins Bible Dictionary, revised Edition, ed. Paul J. Achtemeier (San Francisco: Harper San Francisco, 1996). Ruthanna B. Hooke: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/narrative-lectionary/peters-vision-2/commentary-on-acts-101-17-34-35-3 Israel Kamudzandu: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/narrative-lectionary/peters-vision-2/commentary-on-acts-101-17-34-35-2 Andrew Warner's Commentary in our stewardship material Luke 10:25-37 The Parable of the Good Samaritan (New International Version) On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?” “What is written in the Law?” he replied. “How do you read it?” He answered, “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’” “You have answered correctly,” Jesus replied. “Do this and you will live.” But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?” In reply Jesus said: “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, when he was attacked by robbers. They stripped him of his clothes, beat him and went away, leaving him half dead. A priest happened to be going down the same road, and when he saw the man, he passed by on the other side. So too, a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii[c] and gave them to the innkeeper. ‘Look after him,’ he said, ‘and when I return, I will reimburse you for any extra expense you may have.’ “Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?” The expert in the law replied, “The one who had mercy on him.” Jesus told him, “Go and do likewise.” I read a commentary by a friend and colleague this week, the Rev. Dr. Elena Larssen, who is a conference minister in the Ohio part of the Heartland Conference. She called today’s reading a “greatest hit” of Christian Scripture. Like when a beloved and fun song comes on the radio, it’s probably a good time to stick to this station for a bit. You can sing along if you want.
As Amanda Brobst-Renaud notes in her commentary, this story has a little bit of everything: a dangerous fight, bandits, someone who is hurt and in danger, plot twists, unlikely heroes, and a call to action at the end. We get to hear the story because someone who knows religious law well is trying to test Jesus. The person asks, “What I must do to inherit eternal life?” Does anyone know the answer? “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” As is probably not a surprise to anyone in this room, the person familiar with the law said that Jesus was right. Then, the man asked, “who is my neighbor?” That turned out to be a trickier question. Jesus did as he often does... answer with a question. First, some background: lots of the Bible shows us a loving God. Lots of the Bible also reflects the biases and fears of the people who initially shared the stories that became our scripture. This means that sometimes we get to read about ancient fights among people who lived right next to each other. Central to understanding Jesus’ response to the lawyer is understanding one of those ancient fights: the one between the Judeans and Samaritans. I think it would be fair to say that these two groups used to be one people. The land of the Hebrews came to be split into two kingdoms. Samaria (also called Israel) was the region to the north and Judea was the region to the south. They shared religious history and language and also trauma. Both communities understood themselves to be descendants of Hebrew patriarch Jacob. They both followed the law given to Moses. Both communities understood themselves to be worshiping in the traditions of their ancestors. They had faced, and had been conquered by the same oppressive empires, Assyria and later Rome. And yet, they had significant disagreements around how to interpret their shared religious laws, and significant disagreements about where and whether to gather for corporate worship. Would the oldest hills and high places where their ancestors encountered God be central to worship or would it be the Temple in Jerusalem? By the time we get to this encounter between Jesus and the man who knew the law, we have centuries of enmity between Judeans and Samaritans. Just a few chapters before this story, when a Samaritan village would not host Jesus and his followers, Jesus' followers offered to try to make it rain down fire from heaven to destroy the village. Jesus was often poorly received in an area. Rarely were his disciples so ready to do violence to other people who reject Jesus as they were to a group of Samaritans who did. Jesus would have likely been taught that Samaritans were a problem. So, why tell a story where one was a hero? Jesus shared this story while in conversation with another thoughtful and faithful Jewish person, a man deeply familiar with their shared religious law. It seems like an interesting tension in their tradition, right? They are called to love their neighbors. But, even in scripture some of their literal neighbors, like the Samaritans, get called wicked. They are supposed to avoid them! So, how does the faithful person possibly love their neighbor when they're pretty sure that their neighbors are awful? In a time when health care is so unaffordable and often inaccessible and where leaders are fighting right now about if and how to help regular people more easily afford it, it should be noted that one of the good things the Samaritan does is pay for a desperate stranger’s healthcare. The so-called good and respectable people don’t. They aren’t even regular ol’ good people. They are religious leaders who know the called to love neighbor by heart... they literally teach this to other people through their roles as priest and lay associate of the priest. But, like many of us, they ignore their religious obligations because of reason that are not made clear in the text but we can easily imagine. Maybe they were afraid. Maybe they thought someone else would do it. Maybe they were just mean and didn’t care. Their motivation isn’t as important as their action... or lack of action. We don’t know what they are thinking. We do see what they are doing, which is ignoring someone in pain, despite the fact they have devoted themselves to a religion that tells them not to do that. As Brobst-Renaud points out, Jesus isn’t interested in offering an excuse. He does, however, provide a counter example. That is the Samaritan. To folks who haven’t been raised to mistrust Samaritans, this story doesn’t pack that much of a surprise. Helping an injured person seems like the right thing to do, after all! But, Jesus is talking to someone who expects little good from a Samaritan. I think Jesus deploys the surprise of a Samaritan hero to heighten his point that actions, not just the ideas that live in our heads, demonstrate faith. It is possible to act faithfully according to God’s expectations even if the broader community doesn’t assume you will. Mercy is a foundational behavior of a faithful person. In her commentary on this text, Larssen quotes church father Augustine of Hippo, who once said “All humanity are our neighbors.” That certainly reminds us of our responsibility to one another clear, but also makes it seem huge and unwieldy. The Samaritans actions, though, are pretty concrete and specific. Be moved by someone’s suffering. Tend to issues that are most pressing. Share the resources you have with those who need them. Make sure the person who needs help has enough help to really get better. Find trustworthy partners, like the innkeeper. Larssen wonders if the best place to see the church in this story is as the innkeeper, a trusted partner to the ones binding up the broken and a safe place for hurt people to heal. After all, we have a building and we want to make good use of it. We work to discern how to welcome people into this space, how to make sure it’s in good working order, and a resource not just for us but for our town. Last weekend, we hosted a group of preaching students who needed some experience preaching in an actual pulpit. They briefly became ministry partners to us, too, chipping in some food for our food pantry. For a church that began by meeting in a tavern, it seems fitting to see ourselves as innkeepers, making a space for those who need healing and for those looking to serve others. There’s a Mary Chapin Carpenter song where she says, “sometimes you’re the windshield. Sometimes you’re the bug.” I imagine, sometimes each of us is the Samaritan. And, sometimes the priest. And, sometimes the person in the ditch, needing mercy to survive. May we add to that list the Innkeeper, reading to host those who need mercy, and able to be trusted with the resources shared with us and the jobs we are given. Jesus isn’t the only one being tested on what it means to live a faithful life in challenging times. We are, too. Let us remember the examples of the innkeeper and the Samaritan. If we do, we’ll always be up to the test. Resources consulted while writing this sermon: Elena Larssen’s notes from the UCC stewardship materials Amanda Brobst-Renaud: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-15-3/commentary-on-luke-1025-37-4 James D. Purvis’ notes on Samaritans and Samaria in the HarperCollins Bible Dictionary, revised Edition, ed. Paul J. Achtemeier (San Francisco: Harper San Francisco, 1996). Marion Lloyd Soards’ notes on Luke in The New Oxford Annotated Bible: The New Revised Standard Version with Apocryphya, ed. Michael Coogan (New York: Oxford University Press, 2001) Thanks for preaching while I was away, Bob. -Pastor Chrissy John 6:1-14 After this Jesus went to the other side of the Sea of Galilee, also called the Sea of Tiberias. 2 A large crowd kept following him because they saw the signs that he was doing for the sick. 3 Jesus went up the mountain and sat down there with his disciples. 4 Now the Passover, the festival of the Jews, was near. 5 When he looked up and saw a large crowd coming toward him, Jesus said to Philip, “Where are we to buy bread for these people to eat?” 6 He said this to test him, for he himself knew what he was going to do. 7 Philip answered him, “Two hundred denarii would not buy enough bread for each of them to get a little.” 8 One of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, said to him, 9 “There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish. But what are they among so many people?” 10 Jesus said, “Make the people sit down.” Now there was a great deal of grass in the place, so they[b] sat down, about five thousand in all. 11 Then Jesus took the loaves, and when he had given thanks he distributed them to those who were seated; so also the fish, as much as they wanted. 12 When they were satisfied, he told his disciples, “Gather up the fragments left over, so that nothing may be lost.” 13 So they gathered them up, and from the fragments of the five barley loaves, left by those who had eaten, they filled twelve baskets. 14 When the people saw the sign that he had done, they began to say, “This is indeed the prophet who is to come into the world.” The miracle of feeding 12,000 (Delivered Oct. 12, 2025, at Winthrop Congregational)
Okay, so where does this guy (point at self) get the idea that Jesus fed 12,000 people and not 5,000? Let’s just say that the times have caught up a bit with the scripture. The feeding of the 5,000 is one of only two parts of Jesus’s life that appear in all four gospels. (The other is, of course, the resurrection.) Verse 10 of today’s reading tells us, in parentheses, that about 5,000 men had followed Jesus up the mountainside, in awe of his miracles of healing. Well, in the times that the Bible was being written, the only people who were counted were men. Women, if not chattels, were simply seen as attached to “their man.” And forget about noticing children. They were often not seen and probably seldom heard. As if they didn’t count. So, when the Gospel according to John was written, most likely between the years of 70 and 100 AD, women and children were an afterthought. Or not thought of at all. If we were scanning an aerial photograph today of the crowd on that mountainside we might see, say, 4,000 or 5,000 wives and fiancees and girlfriends with the 5,000 men. And, having no child-care centers, the couples probably brought along their kiddos, too. Now, if the couples were rugged enough to follow Jesus up the mountain, they probably were young and had only a child or two. Or none. And if the couples were older, no children still living at home. So, let’s say that along with 4,000 to 5,000 wives, fiancees and girlfriends, the crowd included 2,000 to 3,000 children. That puts us at 11,000 to 13,000 people. So, let’s call it 12,000. All hungry, all needing to be fed. Just a side note. Let’s not be smug about our enlightened inclusion of women and children under the heading “people.” After all, women did not exist legally, as voters, in the United States until 1920, so for 1,900 years after the Gospel of John was written, women and children weren’t counted. Or didn’t count. We heard about the loaves and fishes, and that story frames our theme for today, which is how God – and we – can make something great out of very little. We have a guide we can follow who will walk us through the story of the feeding of the 12,000. She is Dr. Leah D. Schade, an associate professor of Preaching and Worship at the Lexington Theological Seminary in Kentucky, a seminary of the Disciples of Christ Church, which was called just the Christian Church in Missouri, where I grew up. Dr. Schade is an ordained minister in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, the largest of the Lutheran church bodies. Let’s get back to the feeding. The story is so amazing that millions of words have been written about it. Literally. But, don’t worry. I haven’t read all of those millions of words, and I’m certainly not going to try to shovel anywhere near that many into your heads today. This story has been with me for, I don’t know, maybe 75 years. The feeding of the five thousand or twelve thousand is one of the Bible stories that made the biggest impression on the boy Bob Neal in Sunday School. I still find it persuasive, even as I have grown to read the Bible more seriously than literally. And, just as I first heard the story as a boy, Dr. Schade notes that a boy plays a big part in feeding the crowd. The five barley loaves and the two smoked fish were in his basket, and Jesus took them to begin the feeding. Even though kids were very much in the background in biblical times, this is far from the only time the Bible looks to a child to serve God and humankind. For example, Isaish 11:6 contains this famous passage, “The wolf will live with the lamb, the leopard will lie down with the goat, the calf and the lion and the yearling together, and a little child will lead them.” And here in John, as Doctor Schade notes, a small gift from a small child inspired a feast, blessed by Jesus and shared in the spirit of generosity and faith in God’s abundance. A miracle. And perhaps also a metaphor for the large miracle of food and nourishment, both bodily and spiritual. This fusion of child, food and abundance wasn’t just in the Holy Land and in biblical times. Locally and today, the students at Troy Howard Middle School in Belfast grow food every year. Their project, called “Get Growing,” blossomed from a small garden that a teacher had begun as a teaching tool in 2006. By 2010, the students were hosting a harvest meal every autumn using the veggies they had grown and turkey and a few other items they couldn’t grow at the school. I was happy to supply the turkeys from my farm. Think about it a moment and you might ask how do you get a gang of pre-teens to come to school every day during the growing season, which overlaps summer vacation, to tend an acre of veggies? How indeed! But the kids at Troy Howard spend part of their summers at school participating in the miracle of food, even if they didn’t fail a class and have to attend summer school. The Reverend Schade asks us to imagine the crowd with Jesus, seeing five small loaves and a couple of fish is a boy’s basket, tittering when Jesus offers a prayer of thanks for the “feast.” “We’re gonna have a feast with that?” you can almost hear them murmuring. Snickering, even. But Jesus knew what he was doing, and as the basket containing the five loaves and two fish was passed through the crowd, more baskets filled with food began to appear. With the boy’s basket multiplying into many baskets of food, I want to plant a seed with you. We’ll come back to the idea of seeds in a while. Doctor Schade takes up a couple of possible worldly explanations for the sudden appearance of all that food. “Perhaps a child in the crowd had heard the prayer and surreptitiously pulled a loaf from his mother’s bag,” she wrote, “and slipped it into the large basket as it passed.” But, to feed 12,000 people, how many children would have to have purloined loaves from their mothers? And if 2,000 children were in the crowd, wouldn’t nearly every one of them had to have sneaked a hidden loaf from Mom? Not a likely explanation. She offers another worldly explanation. “Maybe an older man in the crowd remembered he had a few extra smoked fish from last week’s catch and tossed them in, as well,” she wrote. Well, not to get gross, but as a retired farmer who smoked a lot of turkeys, I can tell you that if enough smoked fish to feed the crowd had been stashed under people’s cloaks or in their packs, everyone would have caught a whiff, would have breathed in the aroma, and surely the Gospel writers would have taken note. Smoked meat smells as wonderful as it tastes, but it is noticeable. Especially en masse. “No one,” Dr. Schade wrote, “saw how the extra food appeared, and no one cared. All they knew was that everyone had been fed.” And remember, after the feast, the disciples retu0rned to Jesus with 12 baskets of leftover food. What Jesus taught that crowd that day was that even the smallest gift offered to God has the potential to inspire abundant generosity so that everyone is fed. Remember, from other scripture, the planted mustard seed that grows to a height of three feet or more. “Jesus placed his faith in God that somehow a feast was about to happen, and God came through,” Doctor Schade says. “On that grassy mountain, they learned that they could do so much more together than they could ever do alone.” Just as the kids at Troy Howard Middle School in Belfast do so much together to grow food for their school cafeteria. And that’s where I want to take us now. From that mountainside by the Sea of Galilee to what we can do. Alone or together. What seeds can we plant and nurture? How can we help feed if not the 12,000 then the 12 or the seven or the three or however many we can manage? For 30 years, I provided turkeys and as many as 46 other turkey products to feed people, one or two at supper, maybe 20 or 25 around a Thanksgiving table. After we had had gotten the farm on its feet, we were able to contribute some of our turkey items to the Good Shepherd Food Bank and to persuade some of our best customers to do so, too. We began each flock with baby turkeys, called poults. You might think of the fluffy little critters as our seeds. We drove to hatcheries in Quebec and West Virginia to pick them up within minutes of their hatching, drove back to New Sharon and nurtured them just as the farmer and gardener nurture the seeds they put into the ground. In addition to 30 years farming, I’ve been gardening for at least 50 years. Making the miracle of food for my family and others. On the turkey range or in the garden, I feel closest to God. I feel that I’m doing God’s work. Maybe it’s better to say that on the range or in the garden is where I feel God is closest to me. Now, for some, God feels closest while they are praying. For others, it’s during family time. For still others it’s while hiking in the mountains or navigating sea currents. But for me, it’s growing things. After all, we came to New Sharon as back-to-the-landers, and almost all the back-to-the-landers were gardeners before they became haulers of firewood or gatherers of eggs. Or threw up their hands in frustration and high-tailed it back to New Jersey or Massachusetts or wherever. I’m not alone in finding God in the garden. I have a friend in Farmington, a professor and former member in discernment at Old South Church, who closely ties her ministry to her organic gardening. That was where she, like me, felt God closest. Other people find God there, too, as in this passage from Genisis 3:8, referring to Eve and Adam. “And they heard the voice of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day.” My gardening began in 1971 when my baby sister, now my late sister, Carol, gave us six tomato plants. We set them into holes dug behind our rented house in Kansas City. We watered and weeded them and, come August, we had fresh tomatoes every day until the frost, which in Kansas City comes even later than the killing frost that we had on Thursday night here. Those seedlings from Carol were infected, with the gardening bug, which bit me. Hard. Those six plants were a mustard seed of what was to become my life’s work, making food for my family and for my customers. My late wife, Marilyn, fell in love with the tending of tomato plants. I expect she also felt God closest when she was on her hands and knees, pulling weeds, trimming dead leaves and tying up vines to keep the fruits high and dry. After we left Kansas City, we lived in a row house in Montreal. I grew greens, squash, carrots, beans and the like along the back fence. And tomatoes, of course. In one way, that might have been our best garden ever. We went on a five-week junket by rail in November 1973. I wrapped each of my green tomatoes in newsprint and lined them up on kitchen windowsills to ripen while we rode trains to Florida, New Orleans, Texas, Kansas City, Ohio and back home to Montreal West. To our great surprise, nearly every tomato ripened bright red. None rotted. Fresh tomatoes in December! In Canada! Even in our absence, the garden was making something good out of something small. I’ve never again been so lucky at indoor ripening of tomatoes. Of course, the most obvious reason to garden is to grow food. From June through November, I grow all my vegetables, then eat home-grown from the freezer until the next June. My older son has fallen on tough times and lives with me now, so I’m filling a second freezer, not to mention packing dry beans, tomato sauce and V8 juice. I’m sad that his life has soured but grateful to be able to feed someone else. Not 12,000 someone elses, mind you, but at least two are fed by my garden. Oh, and my girlfriend gets a lot of it, too. In fact, she came up yesterday from Buckfield and together we harvested potatoes, tomatoes, onions, turnips, carrots and cabbage for her. When I was tending turkeys or, these days when I’m in the garden, I sometimes hear the voices of my late wife or of one of my sons or of someone else dear to me. They are speaking the words of daily life and of love and of aspiration more often than words of scripture or words spoken from the mountain top. They speak as I believe God would speak to a troubled or deliberating mind. They speak in wise words that I do well to heed. This spiritual benefit from gardening gives rewards beyond the raising of healthful food and exercising and breathing fresh air. It’s the rewards of faith. Faith in the seed. Faith in the soil. Faith in God’s natural processes that turn the tiny seeds into abundant squash or gorgeous bright-lights chard. The dirt under our fingernails can be our sign of our faith in God. Our faith that our fellow humans, when properly nourished, will thrive. Gardeners make good candidates to be people of faith. Let’s close with several quite short scriptures that tell us or reassure us about the miracle of making food, whether on a farm or in a garden. Verse 5 of the 29th chapter of Jeremiah reads: “Build homes and plan to stay. Plant gardens and eat the food they produce.” Sounds like a directive to back-to-the-landers, doesn’t it? Genesis 26, verse 12, may help explain why we return to the garden year after year: “Isaac planted crops in that land and the same year reaped a hundredfold, because the lord blessed him.” That is the hope, if not the promise, of bounty. And from Genesis 8, verse 22: “As long as the earth endures, seed time and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night will never cease.” The hope, if not the promise, of centuries of life on earth. In the end, we may be doing God’s work out there in the garden. “He answered and said unto them, he that sows the good seed is the son of man.” That’s Matthew 13, verse 37. Hard to be much clearer about the link of seed to garden to food to faith. My late friend Jo Josephson wrote a poem that contained a line that expresses the bridge between winter and spring. The line went something like this: “The seed catalogs arrived this morning at two-below zero.” Faith and a warm woodstove urge us to peruse the catalogs and get ready to plant seeds. Again. And, isn’t that what Jesus was doing when he fed the 12,000? He was planting a seed, nurturing it and showing the multitude what could grow from such a tiny beginning as five barley loaves and two smoked fish. Brought to the mountainside by a child. Amen. 1 Corinthians 11:23-26 For I received from the Lord what I also handed on to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my body that is for[a] you. Do this in remembrance of me.” In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.” For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes. This Sunday was World Communion Sunday and the beginning of our Stewardship season. Illustrated Ministry has a great set of lesson plans for World Communion Sunday. I used it to organize our time together, in addition to worship elements from our stewardship materials and some of Carolyn Brown's lesson plan on 1 Corinthians. Here's some of the things we did together in worship: Practiced saying "hello" and "welcome" in languages other than English. Illustrated Ministry offered this suggestion. One of the simplest ways we can make someone else feel welcome is by telling them they are! When we greet and welcome someone, it shows them we appreciate and are grateful for them. I asked people if they knew how to say "hello" and "welcome in languages other than English. People shared words from Mandarin, Spanish, French, Arabic, Dutch, German, and others. Below are a couple examples. Spanish: Hello = Hola Good morning/day = Buenos Dias (bwen ohs dee ahs) Welcome = Bienvenido (bee in veh need oh) French: Hi= Salut (sal-oo) Welcome= Bienvenue (bee-in-ven-ew) German: Hello = Hallo (hah low) Good day = Gutentag (goo ten tahg) Welcome = Willkommen (vill koh men) Peskotomuhkati-Wolastoqey We welcome you= Kulasikulpon (ku-la-zi-kulpin) (thanks to the folks who run this website for the information: https://pmportal.org/dictionary/ulasihkuwal) Mi’gmaq Welcome/come in and sit down= Pjila'si (up-chi-laa-si) (thanks to the folks who run this website for the information: American Sign Language: Below are two videos of how to greet people in ASL
We also talked about how a minister named Hugo Thompson Kerr first came up with the idea of celebrating World Communion Sunday. And, we answered some questions from the Illustrated Ministry lesson about how we experience communion at our church.
I looked up words in two Wabanaki languages. I found that information on these websites: -https://pmportal.org/dictionary/ulasihkuwal - Carolyn Brown talks about the Corinthians text and about how it is used in the liturgical year here: : https://worshipingwithchildren.blogspot.com/2016/01/year-c-maundy-thursday-march-24-2016.html Illustrated Ministry's whole lesson plan, which includes some things I left out: https://store.illustratedministry.com/products/childrens-bundle-world-communion-sunday?_pos=1&_psq=world+commu&_ss=e&_v=1.0 Luke 16:19-31 (New International Version) The Rich Man and Lazarus “There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and lived in luxury every day. At his gate was laid a beggar named Lazarus, covered with sores and longing to eat what fell from the rich man’s table. Even the dogs came and licked his sores. “The time came when the beggar died and the angels carried him to Abraham’s side. The rich man also died and was buried. In Hades, where he was in torment, he looked up and saw Abraham far away, with Lazarus by his side. So he called to him, ‘Father Abraham, have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire.’ “But Abraham replied, ‘Son, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things, while Lazarus received bad things, but now he is comforted here and you are in agony. And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been set in place, so that those who want to go from here to you cannot, nor can anyone cross over from there to us.’ “He answered, ‘Then I beg you, father, send Lazarus to my family, for I have five brothers. Let him warn them, so that they will not also come to this place of torment.’ “Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the Prophets; let them listen to them.’ “‘No, father Abraham,’ he said, ‘but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.’ “He said to him, ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.’” The lines would start hours before the doors opened. I’d noticed that myself when I happened to be driving through Augusta in the late afternoon the first year the overnight shelter was open at South Parish. When I called to check the hours myself so that I could refer someone there, the person I talked with confirmed for me that it was true. If you wanted one of the low-barrier beds, you had to get there early. Some shelters are low-barrier and others have certain standards you have to meet, like, you have to be sober when you get there. Intoxicated people can freeze, too, so it’s good to have some places they can go. There weren’t a lot of places for them to go in Augusta. When the church started thinking about using their building to help people without homes, it seemed important to create a space that was low barrier.
When you’re trying to figure out how to be a good neighbor, it’s wise to look around and see what is actually needed. It became clear to South Parish, an historic, downtown church, that some people downtown needed some help. And, they had the right kind of space to offer it. And, importantly, they had leadership wise enough to reach out to people who were already doing the work for advice. That’s how they found out about the need for a low-barrier shelter. It is no small thing to shift how you use a building, particularly if the use involves hosting people overnight. Many wise hands are part of that work. Thank goodness their church was able to work with good partners. They made a plan and got city buy-in. People started sharing money with them. They hired staff and started hosting people overnight. They’ve been open three seasons now, and every season they’ve been able to offer more beds. Their center manager Rob told us about some choices they have to make and how the make sure that they are clear on their goals. For example, as I said earlier, there was always a long line of people wanting bed before the doors opened. Center staff knew that the people who couldn’t get in still needed somewhere safe and warm to be. They realized that their primary goal was to have “heads in beds.” So, they shifted how they were using some of the space, removing a lounge area and reworking some other areas, and they made space for more beds. They didn’t have to turn people away because of space concerns after that. Not every part of this is easy. Rev. Nate Richards, South Parish’s pastor, Sarah Miller, who helped them organize the logistics of getting the shelter open, and Rob Flannery, the manager, all talked about the process of getting the doors open and keeping them open. Sometimes they have to ask people to leave because of behavior. Rob still tries to help them find the safest possible place to go. He says to them, “tomorrow’s another night. I hope we’ll see you then.” When someone who was asked to leave can come back and participate safely the next night, we’re seeing redemption in action. The warming center is a place of care and a place of consequences. Most importantly, it’s a place of second chances. Our siblings in Christ in Augusta looked to see who was at the gate, and figured out how to let them in. This is the core of the Gospel: understanding that God has called us to share our resources. Plenty of public buildings and spaces end up being used in ways that exclude people of the greatest needs. Hostile architecture is installed, giving people few places to sit comfortably and no places to lay down. Encampments where people have tried to make homes and communities are swept away, often taking away deeply impoverished people’s only and most important possessions. Journalists at ProPublica posted listed of things that people had had discarded: vital records like birth certificates, passports, pictures of family, medications, Bibles, letters from relatives, new clothes, even the cremains of loved ones, all gone. Throwing away people’s tents doesn’t suddenly make them wealthy enough to afford rent. Jesus talks about money a lot. He probably didn’t have much of it, nor did many of the people who came to hear him preach. Some did have money though. And Jesus had pretty clear instructions for them. Mitzi Smith laid some of them out in her commentary on today’s scripture. He tells them not to take the seats of the highest honor at meals (Luke 14:7). He also tells them to invite the poor, sick, and otherwise marginalized people to fancy parties they want to throw instead of other weather people who can return the invitation (Luke 14:21-24). He goes so far as to invite them to sell everything they have then give the proceeds to the poor (Luke 18:18-25). He commends one rich man who gives away half of his possessions and then makes restitution to the people he defrauded (19:1-10). Comparing the generosity of the wealthy and the very poor, he shames the rich who contribute gifts to the Temple from their wealth but give relatively little compared to what they have, while a poor widow gives more than she can afford to give (21:1-4). Notice that the wealth in these cases is, at best, a tool to help someone else, and, at worst, a distraction. Today’s reading is a parable whereby a nameless rich man uses his money in ways that run counter to everything Jesus recommends. Things do not work out well for him. Had he been following Jesus’ teaching about how to use wealth, when he saw Lazarus begging at this gate, he would have let him in. He would have paid for his wounds to be treated. He would have made sure he had food and something to drink. In his commentary on the text, John T. Carroll points out that the rich man knows Lazarus well enough to know his name. He could have used that name to invite him into any one of his lavish banquets. But, he never did. The dogs offer more comfort than the rich man does. Carroll makes what I think is another important point in a commentary of his that Cheryl Lindsay cites. He says, “The separation between these two men, while extreme, is neither inevitable nor necessary and could have been bridged by the initiative of the rich man to open his gate and extend a generous hand.” The separation that began in life continued beyond it. Lazarus dies as many very poor people do, succumbing to starvation and illness likely made more severe by starvation. In death, though, he is comforted. Angels sweep him up to be by Abraham’s side. The rich man dies, too. Money may make it easier to stay alive but it cannot totally fend off death. The rich man ends up in Hades, the Underworld, where it is very hot and he has none of the comforts that made his life easier. The rich man yells across the divide to Abraham for help, requesting that Lazarus give him few drops of water from his finger. Mitzi Smith notes that even in death the rich man treats Lazarus as a subordinate whose role is to make his life easier. Here comes the hard lesson: Abraham says that the rich man received good things in life and Lazarus had received evil. The reverse will now be true. Smith also notes, “God does not create poverty; human beings do. What humans create, humans can fix, if they so desire.” The conditions of this realm mirror the conditions of the next. This parable shows us that it is clearly better to use your money for care in this realm, at this moment. You absolutely can’t take it with you, and it protecting is likely burdening your soul more than you realize. The rich man finally realizes that he can use what he knows to help someone else and asks to be able to go warn his brothers not to be stingy as he was. Abraham declines, saying the brothers have access to all the teachings on justice and compassion that they could use. It is their responsibility to live according to the covenant. Abraham doubts that even someone returning from the dead will convince them to live justly if they’ve already opted to ignore their scripture (16:29-30). Our neighbors at South Parish are showing us every day what it’s like to pay attention to who is at the gate, and I am grateful for their witness. Let us not be like the one who refuses to learn from the scriptures set before us. Afterall, everyone in this room is closer to being Lazarus than they are to being a billionaire. Let us not follow the path of the rich man who doesn’t even get a name in this story. Let us instead follow the example of our neighbors a couple towns over. Let us fling wide the gates, and make sure everyone has a seat at the table. Resources consulted while writing this sermon: Mitzi Smith: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-26-3/commentary-on-luke-1619-31-6 John T. Carroll: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-26-3/commentary-on-luke-1619-31-10 More information about the warming shelter: https://southparishchurch.com/overnight-warming-center-1 Testimonies about what has been taken in sweeps: https://projects.propublica.org/impact-of-homeless-sweeps-lost-belongings/ Some examples of hostile architecture: https://www.archute.com/hostile-architecture/ Cheryl Lindsay's commentary: https://www.ucc.org/sermon-seeds/sermon-seeds-comfort-and-agony/ Luke 16:1-13 (New International Version) The Parable of the Shrewd Manager Jesus told his disciples: “There was a rich man whose manager was accused of wasting his possessions. So he called him in and asked him, ‘What is this I hear about you? Give an account of your management, because you cannot be manager any longer.’ “The manager said to himself, ‘What shall I do now? My master is taking away my job. I’m not strong enough to dig, and I’m ashamed to beg- I know what I’ll do so that, when I lose my job here, people will welcome me into their houses.’ “So he called in each one of his master’s debtors. He asked the first, ‘How much do you owe my master?’ “‘Nine hundred gallons of olive oil,’ he replied. “The manager told him, ‘Take your bill, sit down quickly, and make it four hundred and fifty.’ “Then he asked the second, ‘And how much do you owe?’ “‘A thousand bushels[b] of wheat,’ he replied. “He told him, ‘Take your bill and make it eight hundred.’ “The master commended the dishonest manager because he had acted shrewdly. For the people of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own kind than are the people of the light. I tell you, use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves, so that when it is gone, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings. “Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much. So if you have not been trustworthy in handling worldly wealth, who will trust you with true riches? And if you have not been trustworthy with someone else’s property, who will give you property of your own? “No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.” The last time I preached on this passage, I called it “the Parable about Surviving Slavery when You Are Put in Charge of Stuff.” John T. Carroll, in his commentary on the text, calls it “one of the most puzzling texts in the New Testament.” He’s not the only scholar I’ve read who has said that. As we know, the parables that Jesus uses when teaching are often complex. They often contain within them a surprise turn meant to highlight how the reign of God is different than the present age of the hearer. The surprise in this text is particularly surprising! Jesus seems to praise dishonest actions. This is why Carroll finds the parable puzzling.
There's a rich guy in the story, a guy rich enough that he owns humans and has either purchased someone who is skilled in financial management or has trained him to manage his finances. Jesus tells us that someone has accused that enslaved manager of squandering the rich guy's money. The rich guy seemed to believe the accusations though it not clear if they actually are true. It is clear that rich man doesn’t trust the man he owns. The enslaver asks the manager for an account of his actions and then demotes him to more grueling work. The manager doesn’t refute the accusations. The scholar Mitzi Smith, in a commentary on this text, notes that enslaved people often were not trusted to tell the truth. In Rome, slaves weren’t allowed to give testimony in court, unless they were being tortured, because it was just assumed they would be dishonest. Perhaps the manager knew he wouldn’t be believed, so refutation wasn’t even worth his time. Instead, he decided that building a network of people who would help him would be the better use of his time and energy. He quickly went to two of the people who owed the enslaver money and changed the records of their transactions to say that they owed much less than they actually owed. After that, even though he'd already been demoted, it seems like he still had at least one meeting with the man who owned him about the money. That meeting is where the surprised happened. The rich man saw what the manager did in cutting down the amount people owed, an action that looks like him losing the enslaver quite a lot of income. In an odd turn of events: the rich man commends his former manager for reducing the outstanding bills. In his commentary on Luke, Fred Craddock notes that some scholars have argued that some slavers allowed the people they enslaved to have commissions from transactions they performed. It is possible, then, that the enslaved manager cut out his commission out of the invoice. But, if that were true, the enslaver wouldn’t then describe him as dishonest. Dishonesty isn’t giving up money you earned. Dishonesty is, however, changing records for a loss! Why would he praise the person he enslaved for taking money owed him? In verse eight, Jesus seemed to offer some kind of explanation for the rich man's commendation. Jesus said that "children of this age," that is, people who have not decided to live according to God's will, are much more adept at gaming the unjust system they live in for their own gain than the disciples are. Jesus seems to be telling his followers to start living with that level of wiliness and skill for survival. Generally speaking, “be willing to outsmart unscrupulous people” seems like not terrible advice, but, at the same time, Jesus usually tells his disciples to follow God’s rules, not live like the oppressive community around them. In the next verse, Jesus even seems to tell his followers that if they have wealth from shady sources, they should use it to buy influence with people who will take care of them later. What? What is he talking about? Now, some commentators have said that Jesus is taking this moment to explain to his followers how any possessions can be used for good purposes, even ill-gotten ones. After all, in the last several readings, Jesus has spent a lot of time justifying his close relationships with people who have plenty of dishonest money: tax collectors, other sinners, the occasional woman of ill repute. Maybe this is a story for folks who might think they can't take this money that they earned from the empire's systems and then turn around and use it for God's purposes. Or, maybe this is a story that is like those verses in Matthew where Jesus reminds his followers to be wise as serpents and innocent as doves. Wisdom comes from using what you have to make do: This manager makes do by using what he has, which is, the bills owed the rich man, and offers mercy others in hopes of receiving help later. This is the level of shrewdness Jesus believes his followers will need to survive. In the next four verses, 10-14, Jesus returns to describing a relationship with wealth that sounds like it is more in line with his mission in the rest of the Gospel: bring good news to the poor, proclaiming release to the captives, and proclaiming the Jubilee year of debt forgiveness. In verses 10-13, he seems to be saying that the wealth that we have right now, ultimately, is not the most important thing that we are entrusted with. There’s an underlying assumption that all wealth has likely come from cheating someone else. It is therefore untrustworthy, and pursuing wealth makes you more likely to justify taking advantage of people. Jesus argues that our "true riches" are our relationship with God and neighbor. We can demonstrate our faithfulness and wisdom with small things, like the dishonest wealth of the parable, in order to build the foundation for our commitment to the great thing, our relationship with God. Ultimately, as difficult as it is to imagine, our money is the small thing that has been entrusted to us. Our relationship with God and neighbor is the greatest thing that can be entrusted to us. Our relationship with the small thing of our wealth helps to shape the course of our greater relationship with God. In fact, our relationship with wealth should be a reflection of our faith. Jesus knew that then, just as now, it is too easy to become trapped in a system that tells us to value small things, like our money, more than big things, like our relationship with God and neighbor. Because money is such a powerful tool, it can also be easy to forget that as our primary concern, our relationship with God should be helping to guide how we use our money. When we forget that our relationships are our true riches, we can believe the lie that our wealth is the most important aspect of our lives, and we will turn our attention towards protecting it at all costs. Mitzi Smith, in her commentary on this text points out that it is the relationships the manager cultivates that he expects to be his salvation, not his work as a manager. He has assumed that the system that guides his owner, the dishonest system, will not offer him protection, even as he has to try to work in the midst of that system to figure out a way to survive. Could you have heard this parable and seen yourself in the place of the slave who has to find a way to survive? Could you have heard Jesus remind you that, even as you worked in the dishonest system, you could still find a way to shift those skills into honorable work with God? Would you hear the challenge to make God your ultimate guide, and not Caesar? We may not be enslaved managers, but we still are often faced with choices of how we will live out our values in our everyday lives. In fact, every day we are afforded a million small opportunities to allow our behavior to reflect our connection to God, including our behavior with money. I pray that we can each as ourselves, "When I make this choice, who am I really serving? The small things? Or, my God and my neighbor?" Resources consulted while writing this sermon: Fred Craddock, Luke (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2009). Mitzi Smith: https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=4166 John T. Carroll: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-25-3/commentary-on-luke-161-13-6 Scripture Reading: John 3:13-17 (New International Version) “No one has ever gone into heaven except the one who came from heaven- the Son of Man. Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him.” For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. As I was looking for liturgy for today’s service, I noticed something that was strange enough that I had to walk out of my office and tell Cyndi about it. Today’s reading is from a conversation between Jesus and a man named Nicodemus. Nicodemus was a Pharisee. As I’ve mentioned before, Jesus and pharisees usually had a lot to talk about. They all valued their shared religious laws and wanted to teach people how to shape their lives according to God’s covenant. Nicodemus respects Jesus as a divinely inspired teacher. But, he also feels like he will be judged by his community for that respect. He’s afraid. When he goes to talk to Jesus, one on one, he goes under cover of darkness. Part of the conversation happens before our reading. In that conversation, they talk about what it means to follow God, to commit to living your life in a way that is so different that it feels like you have been born anew. They talk about the Spirit that is like the wind, you can’t see it, but you can hear it. And, it moves without you knowing where it comes from. Nicodemus said that “no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God.” Nicodemus has seen something in Jesus that has moved him. We are watching him try to figure out what to do with what his heart informed by his eyes is telling him to do. Who here hasn’t been in Nicodemus’ shoes, trying to figure out what it means to really change your life the way you’re starting to feel like you need to? You might have even had some late-night talks with Jesus about it. Jesus does appear to be surprised at Nicodemus’ moral and ethical quandaries. He was a Pharisee. Figuring out how to follow God was his life’s work! Jesus kind of tells him that he would have expected a teacher of Israel to understand things more clearly. “If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things?” Ouch, right? The thing that comes after that part is what really catches my attention every time I read this. It is among the wildest, oddest references to the Hebrew Scriptures that I can think of in any Gospel. “And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.” What. What even is Jesus talking about with this serpent? It’s a story from the book of Numbers (chapter 21). That’s where Moses and the Serpent come from. Jennifer Garcia Bashaw gives a helpful, short description of that story in her commentary on this text. I’m going to try to shorten the description even more. It’s a story from the Exile in the Wilderness. God lets loose a plague of venomous snakes among the Israelites as punishment for their “grumbling and unfaithfulness.” Lots of people get bit and lots of people die. Out of fear and desperation, they repent and ask Moses for help. He intercedes with God, who directs him to build a big bronze snake for them to look at. When envenomated people look at the snake, they are healed. It is times like this that I feel some kindred spirit with the writers of the Gospel. I can see so clearly the writerly work of having an idea that is unclear and looking around for an example to explain a complicated idea. It is possible that this Numbers allusion came straight from Jesus. That being said, no Gospel is a direct transcription of Jesus’ words, and he doesn’t say this in any other Gospel. Whether this story was wrangled from the Hebrew Bible from a writer who wanted to add something to Jesus’ words to try to explain them or if Jesus himself pulled this metaphor out of his copious knowledge of Hebrew scripture, it’s still seems to me an odd choice. Of all the Moses stories, why this one? I once asked a rabbi friend about this story. She agreed with me: “It’s a weird story.” I asked her if she knew of any time when this serpent story might have been more important or shared more widely in Jewish circles. She didn’t. How many of you, when you think of Moses, think of this serpent? Unless you’ve heard the three other times that I’ve preached on this, I’m gonna bet this is not a go to Moses story for you! Once more, the “Jesus is like that bronze snake” never became one of the most important metaphors for how Christians understand Jesus. When I was looking for pre-written prayers and liturgy based on today’s reading for service, I notice that none of them mentioned the serpent. This is what I had to tell Cyndi about when I noticed it. While I didn’t study every piece of Christian liturgy ever written, I did look at a couple sites where pastors share things they write. I saw lots of references to the Spirit blowing like the wind, and to being born again. I saw lots of references to John 3:16, which is all over the place really (even, as Bashaw points out, on the bottom of some fast food hamburgers) and the cross. I saw nothing about this snake. The Spirit and the Cross. No snake in any one prayer or litany. But the snake is right there! How do you not talk about it? Interestingly, when I was looking for a recording of the one hymn that mentions the snake, YouTube started feeding me fundamentalist sermons on the Numbers text. It made me think that the people most comfortable with this story are people really interested in a God who punishes people. People who think of God as first a disciplinarian might not think twice about God using snakes to punish people. The Moses story is odd to me, in part, because it is so vindictive. It is also odd because it seems so.... magical, I guess. It’s different from a regular miracle. It seems like a magical snake talisman leftover from some very ancient tradition. Among Protestants especially, who get a little worried about art inspired by God being mistaken for art that is God, God’s odd behavior and remedy for annoyance with whiners is just easier to not talk about. Let’s skip to the salvation. The cross I understand. James Baldwin once said, “Not everything that is faced can be changed; but nothing can be changed until it is faced.” It is often easier to pretend like something strange or upsetting doesn’t exist. The act of not-talking about something almost never makes it go away, be it your inner misgivings about the stances your closest confidantes are taking or the transformation that is happening in your soul because you saw something new that made you doubt what you previously believed. The snake is still here, even if we’d rather talk about the Spirit or the Cross. We are in multiple national conversations right now about the kinds of stories we tell and what to do about ones that make us uncomfortable. We have watched in real time this week as people have spun all manner of stories in response to political violence. In one day, there were multiple murders, two incidences of which usually make national news: the assassination of a Christian nationalist speaker by young man who also appears to be a different kind of right-wing fascist in Utah and a school shooting in Denver. Some people don’t even know about what happened at the school in Denver. Some people only know the wildest conspiracy theories about what happened in Utah. In a country that all too often has seen violence used as a political tool and where mass shootings, in particular, are often justified by violent political ideology, it seems clear that there is something that must be faced if we want to change it. We’ve got to talk about the snake, or we’re never going to understand it. Bashaw argues that the serpent in the book of Numbers is “a mirrored representation of the poisonous destruction [the Israelites] faced from the poisonous serpents. The source of their death became the agent of their healing and survival. So it is with the cross.” The Cross was a tool of torture wielded by Rome to punish people into compliance with their rule. It was also a spectacle that on-lookers observed and that people in authority participated in. The stories of the cross show us scapegoating and fearfulness and the sacrifice of innocence. Bashaw argues, then, that within the mirror of the cross, we can see reflecting back to us sacrificial love that is the opposite of the empire’s violence. Seeing the cross means recognizing that there is a cycle of blame and violence that we need no longer repeat. We have to see the cycle to stop it. The cross reminds us that we can stop it. Bashaw says, “We cannot be healed from a disease that remains hidden.” Let us not be afraid to speak clearly of the odd and uncomfortable stories we inherit. Our silence will not make them go away. And, as Karoline Lewis notes, Jesus was always willing to face hard conversations, even furtive ones in the dark. May we look to him to help us find healing. Resources consulted while writing this sermon: Jennifer Garcia Bashaw: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/holy-cross-sunday/commentary-on-john-313-17-2 James Baldwin quote: https://www.oxfordreference.com/display/10.1093/acref/9780191843730.001.0001/q-oro-ed5-00000730 Karoline Lewis: https://www.workingpreacher.org/craft.aspx?post=4693 |
AuthorPastor Chrissy is a native of East Tennessee. She and her wife moved to Maine from Illinois. She is a graduate of the Divinity School at Wake Forest University and Chicago Theological Seminary. Archives
December 2025
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