​Today is the last Sunday of the Christmas season and tomorrow is the celebration of Epiphany, so we have some important business to finish. First, I think we should make sure that the creche is finished. Will someone come and look? Who all is in there now (baby Jesus, his parents, shepherds, animals, an angel)? Is there anyone missing who you think should be there? Yes! The Magi and their camels. Will someone go get them in the back of the church for me? It might take two people.

OK, you all can go back and sit down. Does anyone remember what Magi means? Yes! It is a Greek word that means “wise men” or even “wise ones” because we don’t actually know many details about the group that came. How many Magi do we have in our creche? Three! Christian tradition talks about three, but the Bible never says that there are three. Because we understand God as three-in-one, Christians like threes, so we decided there were three at some point. The Wise Ones weren’t just regular smart people. In his notes on today’s readings, Andrew Overman describes the Magi as scholars and political advisors to the royalty in the area that we now call Iran, or maybe Armenia. It’s not totally clear. But, what the Bible is clear about is that they were experts in astrology, which is paying attention to the stars to learn more about what is happening all around you.

Does anyone remember why they came to see Jesus, who was probably a toddler by the time they got there? He wasn’t a rich and fancy toddler. People who work for kings and queens don’t usually show up at poor people’s homes for a visit. Do you remember what they saw? Using all of what they learned about the stars, they were paying attention to the stars on the night that he was born. The stars showed them that he was special, a leader even! And, these scholars did what they would do to celebrate the birth of any new leader: they showed up with presents! 

They went to the current king, a mean-spirited and weak-willed man named Herod. Herod cared more about protecting his power than leading his people. He would always make the choice that protected his power rather than what would help others. When representatives of another country showed up talking about a new king, he knew immediately that he wanted to hurt the child so the child could never replace him as king. Remember: some grown-ups will hurt kids on purpose. It isn’t right and it’s our responsibility when we know that could happen to protect the kids. The Magi make the choice to protect the toddler.

In 2019, two days before Christmas, I finished this cross-stitch. Does anyone know who this is? 

It’s a baby... well, a toddler named Grogu. Before people knew his name, they called him “Baby Yoda.” He was a character in a tv show called The Mandalorian. The Mandalorian is a man who so committed to his spiritual community that he wears a special mask and helmet so that people can tell he is a member of that community. He never takes his face-covering off. On the other hand, he has a job where people hire him to do things that are kind of sketchy sometimes. In season 1 of the show, he takes a job where he ends up taking care of a baby and is supposed to take the baby to a powerful man. The Mandalorian realizes that the man who hired him will harm the baby. Rather than give the powerful man the baby, the Mandalorian chooses to save him. That choice will have repercussions across the whole empire.

Sometimes stories that aren’t in the Bible can help us learn more about stories that are in the Bible. I don’t know if the people who wrote The Mandalorian were thinking about the Magi when they wrote their tv show. To be fair, the Mandalorian and the Magi aren’t very much alike other than that they are people with a measure of power, who, inspired by their faith, opt to take care of a child who has an adult who wants to hurt them. When we remember the bravery, wisdom, and kindness of the Magi, it helps to have another example to hold up beside them that reminds us that we can be brave like that, too. We don’t have to be scholars in a queen’s court to take care a child that needs it. We can just be a faithful guy with a job who realizes that the job isn’t more important that the child that is right in front of him.
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The Magi do make it to Jesus’ family home and pay him homage. They give him three gifts. Do you remember what they are? Gold, frankincense, and myrrh. Some people make jokes that the frankincense and myrrh, which are perfumed spices and sticky sap from trees that are used as incense, aren’t very good gifts for toddlers, though Jesus’ family could definitely use the gold. Dr. Overman reminds us in his notes on this story that expensive perfumes and gold are the kind of fancy gifts that you give a king or queen. These gifts show us that the Magi were serious about believing that Jesus was a leader. And, I wonder if they came in handy in the next part of the story.

First, the Magi learned through a dream that Herod planned to hurt the child. So, they went home a different way so has not to alert him to the little family’s whereabouts. Then, an angel showed up to talk to Joseph, saying, “Get up, take the child and his mother and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you, for Herod is about to search for the child to destroy him.” That’s in the verse immediately after today’s reading. Joseph, Mary, and the toddler left. If you’ve ever heard the testimony of modern refugees, you know that they often need cash or things they can sell to survive, and they often need them quickly. The Magi may have ended up financially sponsoring Jesus’ family as they became refugees in Egypt.

While I don’t want to give away more details about the toddler named Grogu, I will note that his is a story of escape, as well. Sometimes you have to leave a place to find safety and family. Jesus and his family would return home eventually when God lets them know that Herod has died is no longer a threat, though Herod’s son was in power. God would lead the family to settle in Galilee, in Nazareth. Important things will happen in Nazareth. They can only happen wisdom of the Magi, who chose to stand with the vulnerable one who was full of promise. May we follow them, first to Jesus, and then in protecting those who need it the most. 
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Resources consulted while writing this sermon:
J. Andrew Overman's notes on Matthew in The New Oxford Annotated Bible: The New Revised Standard Version with Apocrypha, ed. Michael Coogan (New York: Oxford University Press, 2001)

​Matthew 1:18-25 The Birth of Jesus the Messiah

Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be with child from the Holy Spirit.  Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to dismiss her quietly. 

But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, ‘Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit.  She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.’ 

All this took place to fulfil what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet: ‘Look, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and they shall name him Emmanuel’, which means, ‘God is with us.’ 

When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife, but had no marital relations with her until she had borne a son; and he named him Jesus.

Luke 1:46-55 Mary’s Song of Praise

And Mary said, ‘My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty. He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants for ever.’

     Today is the Sunday in Advent when traditionally we are invited to consider love: what it means to love and be loved; how this season of waiting is inspired by love and fueled by love; how the Incarnation is Divine Love come alive and made flesh; and how God has been, is, and will be with us because of love. Love is a risky business. Loving opens us up to the potential for great growth and great pain. Being loved well can help us to learn to trust and to be trustworthy. Love gone awry or withheld or manipulated can break our conviction, warp our confidence, and even put us in danger. Love is a risky business. Fortunately, it is also Jesus’ family business.

     The first chapter of Matthew is Jesus’ genealogy, and within that genealogy are five women whose stories are shaped by the risks of love:

• Tamar, who a series of husbands die in quick succession and was functionally abandoned by her father-in-law until she tricked him into doing right by her
• Rahab, who, in a bout desperate love, saved two soldiers from certain death by hiding them in her place of business, thereby saving her own family in the coming battle
•  Ruth (another widow) who loved Naomi so powerfully that she followed her to Bethlehem
• Bathsheba (whose first husband is killed by David, who then takes her for his own) who will fight with fierce mother-love for her son Solomon to become king.

     The fifth woman is Jesus’ mother, Mary, who we learn more about in the book of Luke. Mary loves God so passionately as to risk both a public scandal by carrying a pregnancy that began before she was married and private scorn by telling her fiancé that he was not the child’s father. Between the risks of pregnancy in a teenage body and the potential for violence from an angry partner and angry family, what danger she could have been in. And, yet, we that her love of God and of her people helped her decide that God’s calling was worth the risk.

     Only two of the Gospels, Matthew and Luke, tell us the stories surrounding Jesus’ birth. Both Gospels make clear, even before we meet the Christ-child, that we know that his is a family marked by all the complexities of love. In fact, his very life is a testament to the risks of love. Let us return to Matthew and to Joseph’s call story. Most of the Bible does not speak of romance in way that reflects modern American sensibilities around building relationships and building families. Duty and obligation shape stories of marriages and parenting as much, and sometimes more, than love as we might understand it in the modern sense. And, yet, how can we not describe Joseph’s bravery in Matthew as love? How can we not look at the risk he took in staying with Mary, in raising her child, and not call it loving?

     As Dr. Wil Gafney notes in a commentary on this text, there is a part of Torah that says people caught in adultery should be stoned (even though there are few stories of that happening in the Bible). Even if that violence was unlikely, a pregnancy before marriage and from someone other than her betrothed, according to Gafney, would have made it challenging for Mary to marry someone else later. Her ability to sustain relationships in her community and even have enough money to survive would have been sorely tested.

     Joseph’s trust in God allowed him to take the risk of treating Mary in the most loving way possible. By continuing with plans to marry, Joseph offered Mary great care in a time she needed it. I do think it’s a little funny that Joseph trusted God enough to marry her, but also made sure a baby boy was born before taking the next steps in the relationship. This is a little bit of “trust but verify” from Joseph that I can appreciate. His love of God was guided by wisdom. I’m sure that would come in handy has he helped raise the child who would come to be known as “God is with us.”

     In looking over our Advent devotional readings for this week, I saw that the authors invited us to consider the idea that “hope is worth the risk.” Upon reading this phrase, I thought this poem by Emily Dickinson:

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -
And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -
I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.

     This poem is well-known for a reason. The first line is so lovely, evoking the pretty and tough little birds we all share space with. I think of the chickadees that fuss at me from the red pines next to our house as I boil maple sap outdoors in March. May my hope ever be as tenacious as an annoyed chickadee, frustrated by smoke and disruption, undaunted by the large stature of the irritant, and unceasing in its willingness to shout the truth of its exasperation for all creatures to hear.

     That being said, the last line of the poem pulls me up a little short. Hope, the tough little thing, even in the hardest situations, “never- in Extremity,/ It asked a crumb- of me.” Far be it from me to take issue with the great Emily Dickinson, but my first impulse is to think of hope as something like a fuel that keeps us going.  Kayla Craig, in our devotional, calls hope “a force that propels us toward God’s presence and redemptive plan for all creation, for all time.” Why would hope, a force within us, ask something of us, the ones who would be hopeful?

     Then, I thought about it a little more. I realized that I often think of hope in a similar way to how I think about love: it is something that both exists but also is something I do with intent. Hope and love may arise unbidden, but also, usually must be cultivated to truly thrive. Our scriptures for the day show us a hope cultivated right alongside love, like how my great-grandfather taught me to grow green beans up a stalk of corn. Joseph and Mary’s sense faithful obligation to, and trust in, God gave rise to deeply loving actions. That same faith and trust was the foundation for the hope that allowed them to accept their calls from God. Maybe they had a potential for hope that was pre-existent within their souls. But, they actually had to feed that hope to make it concrete in this world. Hope didn’t simply float around in their brains. It came alive in their faithful and loving actions. Hope was a risk. And, they took that risk on purpose.

     I follow a lobsterman named Jacob Knowles on Instagram. A few months ago, he found a thing with feathers, in this case, a migrating pine warbler, that had gotten lost at sea. Between the fog and the northerly wind, the tiny bird ended up a 30-minute boat ride from shore, on the verge of either drowning or becoming seagull food. Because these little birds are brave and want to survive, they are often willing to take the risk of landing on a boat if one comes near. Fortunately, this one landed on one helmed by two loving men. They’ve rescued many a tiny bird as they work and have developed a whole system for managing them.

     Jacob’s coworker Cody snags the warbler with a net. The humans then stick it under trash can that makes a surprisingly good bird cage. They give it some crumbs to eat and water, and go about their day, eventually heading to land. During this rescue, once they arrived on land, Jacob took hold of the little bird to release it. The bird, a spunky and brave little creature, bit the fire out of his thumb to make sure he remembered that it was a wild thing not to be messed around with. I bet it knows the chickadees at my house. With a respectful laugh and a comment about “biting the hand that feeds you,” Jacob let the bird go, and it flew towards the land and trees where it was supposed to be.

     We are in a season where we tell, once again, the stories of hopeful risks and loving actions that are the foundations of our faith. My prayer today is that even if you find that your hope is thirty minutes out to sea and stuck in a trash can, you can still find the love you need to sustain it. When powerful forces push you off course, may you find a safe place to land and rest while you figure out what comes next. This Advent, may all those strong enough to do harm to those who are smaller and more desperate, choose to do love instead, even if it means getting their hands a little dirty. And, may the beaks of the small and brave remind the powerful that they can’t do whatever they want without consequence. Hope and love are risks. May we remember these stories of our faith and know that the risks are worth it.

Resources consulted while writing this sermon:
​The video of the bird rescue: https://www.instagram.com/reel/DA3vxMKxtnf/?igsh=MWw3MjJheTcyd295bA==
Wil Gafney, "Advent IV, " A Women's Lectionary for the Whole Church, Year W (New York, Church Publishing Incorporated, 2021)
You can find the text of the poem here: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/42889/hope-is-the-thing-with-feathers-314
​Kayla Craig, "Hope is Worth the Risk," Words for the Beginning: An Advent Devotional (A Sanctified Art, 2024)

​Luke 1:26-29 The Birth of Jesus Foretold

     In the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a town in Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin engaged to a man whose name was Joseph, of the house of David. The virgin’s name was Mary. And he came to her and said, ‘Greetings, favored one! The Lord is with you.’ But she was much perplexed by his words and pondered what sort of greeting this might be.

Isaiah 43:1-7 Restoration and Protection Promised

     But now thus says the Lord, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel:
Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior. I give Egypt as your ransom, Ethiopia and Seba in exchange for you. Because you are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you, I give people in return for you, nations in exchange for your life. Do not fear, for I am with you; I will bring your offspring from the east, and from the west I will gather you; I will say to the north, ‘Give them up’, and to the south, ‘Do not withhold; bring my sons from far away and my daughters from the end of the earth-- everyone who is called by my name, whom I created for my glory, whom I formed and made.’

     Promises have been made. Do not be afraid. This is how we begin Advent this year, with these two assurances: Promises have been made; do not be afraid. With Advent, the church worship calendar has begun anew. Our predecessors in the faith mirrored the cyclical nature of creation when developing our pattern of worship. Fall shifts to winter. Winter into spring. Spring into summer. Summer into fall. Fall, again, into winter. We shift from a reminder that Christ’s Kindom is just and loving into a season of waiting... waiting for redemption, waiting for protection, waiting to be gathered up from all the places we’ve been scatter into the arms of the One who formed us and knows us by name. We are given gifts to make the waiting manageable. This year, the first among them are these reminders: Promises have been made; do not be afraid.

     I learned in a book called All Through the Day, All Through the Year that Advent was first celebrated in Spain and France. The word “advent” has roots in in the Latin word “to come.” What are some things we might do to prepare for someone to come to our home? (responses: clean up, prepare where they will stay, make some food, snowplow) Over the course of the next four weeks, we as a church will be preparing for someone to come. We’ve begun our preparations. Our colors have shifted from green to purple. We have extra lights, on the tree and in our Advent wreath, to lead the way. Our musicians are polishing up music for the season. The kids are busily practicing the play that they wrote. We’re going to share a simple meal together to fortify us for this journey. In Advent, we are waiting on something important, but we can’t forget that the waiting is made easier by working and being together.

     Scholar Joseph Evans calls the biblical prophets “storytellers and holistic commentators on human conditions.” Prophets do not observe this world in disconnected, disinterested way. God has empowered them to see how we are a part of this place and a part of each other. God has tasked them with bringing reminders to humanity. In Isaiah, the prophet reminds people of the covenant... the promises the people made to God and the promises God made to the people. The prophecies recorded in Isaiah were shared under both the memory and threat of war. Chapter 43 is in the portion of the book, as Joseph Blenkinsopp points out in his notes on the text, that hopes to inspire the descendants of those kidnapped into exile in Babylon to return to Judah to rebuild.

     For those who yearn for a land they’ve never seen and for those who have made a home in a place that was never intended for them, the message is the same. God remembers you and is invested in your well-being. God has made promises to you and will keep them. It is possible to return to the land from which your ancestors were taken. Do not be afraid. The journey will be hard. Rebuilding will not be easy. But I will be with you.

     Dr. Wil Gafney describes the God we hear in Isaiah as one who, upon gathering her children from the whole earth, will “protect them in such a way as to violate the laws of nature to ensure their safety.” I bet Mary, Jesus’ mom, could tell us something about God and the laws of nature. Because, she clearly is meeting that God in our reading from Luke... or meeting God’s emissary. Notice that she is called “favored one.” This kind of language assumes a measure of intimacy with the Divine. God is invested in her well-being, as God was invested in the well-being of the exiled. Just as God offered them assurance for a hard journey, God is going to offer Mary assurance in the hard journey she will soon face.

     Mary... engaged but not yet married... teenager, but not yet adult... needs to know that she is not in this alone. Like the prophets who came to Isaiah to bring a reminder of God’s promise, the angel will assure Mary that God is with her. I do appreciate that Mary is described as being “perplexed.” I, too, would be perplexed if an angel showed up and called me favored one.

     Because I know that no one gets called “favored” in the Bible unless God is getting ready to ask them to do something hard. You know how in families that treat children unfairly, sometimes they will pick a favorite and that kid never has to do anything? That’s the opposite of what favored means in the Bible. To be beloved by God is to be invited to work alongside God for the good of the world. The first Sunday of Advent is a Sunday where we talk about Hope. Perhaps this is the hope we need today: to be reminded that we are beloved, that we can count on God to keep promises, and that we don’t have to be afraid. God loves us and that love comes with responsibilities. Thank goodness God is with us in all this. Scripture tells us that we’re going to need her.

Resources consulted while writing this sermon:

David B. Batchelder, All Through the Day, All Through the Year: Family Prayers and Celebrations (Minneapolis: Augsburg Press, 2000)

Joseph Evans, "First Sunday after the Epiphany (Baptism of Jesus)," Preaching God's Transforming Justice: A Lectionary Commentary, Year C, Ronald J. Allen, Dale P. Andrews, and Dawn Ottoni- Wilhelm, eds. (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2012)

Joseph Blenkinsopp's notes on Isaiah in The New Oxford Annotated Bible: The New Revised Standard Version with Apocryphya, ed. Michael Coogan (New York: Oxford University Press, 2001)
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Wilda C. Gafney, "Third Sunday of Easter, " A Women's Lectionary for the Whole Church: Year B (New York: Church Publishing, 2023)

     Friends, I want to thank you for welcoming me back to your congregation again. It makes a bit of a change from my usual Sunday after Easter, but I have to say, we are gathered together at a similarly important point in our liturgical year. You see, Advent starts next Sunday. We are on the cusp of beginning our journey towards the manger and towards welcoming the birth of Christ. Advent marks the beginning of the church calendar, so next Sunday you can all say “Happy New Year” to one another! This closeness to Advent being the case, you may wonder why the gospel reading for this week, which is in the Revised Common Lectionary, is one that is typically a part of the Passion narrative leading up to Easter. Why spend time reflecting on Jesus’ trial before Pilate when we’re just about getting ready to celebrate God’s incarnation in the form of the small, vulnerable infant Jesus?

     Well, I have to say that when I read this morning’s scripture, I couldn’t help but read it in light of where we find ourselves, not only in the liturgical calendar, but in our nation’s calendar. We are getting ready for a time of change and an uncertain future. Now I know that this may have been a theme that Pastor Chrissy has been reflecting on with you all over the last few weeks, but you have to forgive me for continuing to see so many parallels between the gospels and how we are called to live as Christians today, specifically Christians in this country.

     One name for this particular Sunday in some church calendars is “Christ the King Sunday” and sometimes in more modern calendars as “Reign of Christ Sunday”. We are invited to reflect on what the kingdom of Christ is all about and how we might live as faithful stewards to that kingdom. I think the first thing that’s important in that consideration is understanding what the kingdom is not.

     Number one: The kingdom of Christ is not, as Jesus says, “of this world”. To quote the lead into the song “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”, “It’s not a place you can get to by a boat or a train far, far away.” But it is also within all of us, just waiting for our eyes, ears, and hearts to open to its reality. Perhaps this was comforting for Pilate to hear. Someone who says that their kingdom is not of this world is markedly less of a threat to the stability of the Roman Empire than someone who is flagrantly declaring themselves the king of some new nation.

     Number one b: It’s increasingly important to stress the fact that this is not some temporary inconvenience that Christ is not the literal king of a literal nation on the Earth. It’s not some goal that Jesus has for the future of his ministry that one day he will create an enclave, or perhaps even conquer the world with his teachings. As much as it may dismay some Christian nationalists, particularly in this country, Jesus is remarkably clear in this section that an empire on earth is not the goal. The kingdom of God is at hand, but it is in our hands. Hands we can use to work for justice and peace. It is incredibly human and divine and all of the messy things in between and that’s what makes it so great. That’s what gives it its strength. The kingdom that Jesus is proclaiming is one that testifies to a way of life that sees beyond the need for some global superpower that can impose its specific way of life onto other people.

     Number two (and I think you’ll see how these continue to add on each other): The kingdom is not one that incorporates violence. We hear Jesus say that if his kingdom was of this world, surely his followers would be doing everything they could to fight for him to be released from his captivity. “Let’s storm the Praetorium!” It’s important to remember that this portion of the Passion narrative comes after Jesus has just scolded one of his disciples for pulling a sword on a guard and cutting off the guard’s ear as they tried to arrest Jesus. Jesus then heals the man’s ear. It is patently obvious to me that the kingdom that Jesus is trying to testify to is not one that incorporates violence towards other people at all. It is a kingdom that calls us to beat our swords into plowshares and to work together for the betterment of all people. It is a kingdom in which weapons of war have no place in the hands of those seeking to follow in Christ’s footsteps. John’s gospel as a whole is pointed in how it tells us that the real power of this kingdom is found in the way that divine love enters into our human story in a way unlike anything people had ever seen. Perhaps we can begin to see why this reading actually makes perfect sense to lead us into Advent. Into the story of love entering the world in the person of the infant Christ.

     Having spent some time looking at what this kingdom is not, I would like us to shift into thinking about what we have observed in our life as testifying to the capital-T Truth that Jesus mentions in his response to Pilate.  Where have we noticed evidence in our lives of the power of the reign of Christ? I’m going give you a hint, it’s probably not featured on CNN or Fox News or MSNBC. I would like you to take a moment and think about what Truths have been revealed to you on your journey as a follower of Christ or someone seeking to follow Christ. What have you realized is capital-T True in walking that journey?

     I invite us now to take some silence and open our hearts, listening, as Christ says his followers do, for the Truth that is in these words: “You say that I am a king. For this I was born, and for this, I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth, listens to my voice.”

     When you hold space for this truth, what do you find rising to the surface? Is there a word or an image or phrase that emerges in your eye?

     For me, I think the clearest image of the Truth that Jesus says he is here to testify to is the Truth that love is woven into every single one of us by virtue of God’s gracious creation of the Earth. As you no doubt know, there are many “truths” there are facts that are true and then there are underlying Truths that breathe meaning into those facts. It may not be a literal fact that our Earth was created in seven days, but it is True that in that creation God blessed it all and saw that it was good. That is true. It may not be a true fact that the exact words in our scripture reading were said between Pilate and Jesus, but it is True that, through those words, so much love and compassion has been birthed by those who seek this type of kingdom. A kingdom based not on a strong leader with a mighty army, willing to cut down all of his foes, but a meek and humble Messiah, who is put to death by the powers of the earth for challenging those structures.

     This is not an easy truth to just convince somebody of around a Thanksgiving table. In fact, I strongly discourage you from trying to engage someone in this kind of dialogue when you know that their heart is set on a very different sort of kingdom. Instead, I would do what Jesus would do, I would bless them, and I would endeavor to show them the reality of the kingdom that you know exists thanks to Christ. Do so through your actions, through your love, and through the way that you stand up for those who are being oppressed.
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     There are so many people that are convinced that the kingdom of God looks a certain way, worships a certain way, speaks a certain language, and can only exist within the framework of that narrow understanding. Jesus asks Pilate “Do you think I’m the king of the Jews or is that just what someone’s told you?” Do we really think that one denomination or one worship leader could possibly have all of the answers? Do we really think that one group of people has cornered the market on Christ’s Truth? Or is that just what the loudest voices among us say? Those are human words, not divine truth. “Those are your words, not mine,” Jesus would say. So how can we better amplify the words of Christ? How can we fight back against the common understanding that to be Christian in this country means a certain thing?

     Well, my friends, the proof is in the pudding. Let us start by remembering what Saint Francis of Assisi said, “Preach the gospel at all times. Use words if necessary.” We need to be the hands and feet of Christ in the streets of our towns and cities. At the same time, we ought to spend time in community with each other, grappling with the tough questions of how to respond to the world around us in a way that is enriched by the Truth witnessed to us through the person of Jesus. And there are going to be many challenges we will face in the not-to-distant future! This grappling is very hard to do alone, so we should all feel blessed that we have a community of fellow journeyers along with us. We don’t have to, like Pilate in the very next very of this reading, ask ourselves rhetorically “What is truth?” and then sit in the silence that follows. Parenthetically, I always wish Pilate would have engaged Jesus with this question and maybe, together, they could have had a conversation that might have opened Pilate’s eyes, ears, and heart to the capital-T Truth. But alas, that was not the case. However, unlike Pilate, we here can bounce our ideas off one another. We get to see our beliefs and definitions develop and change as we grow in our understanding of our faith and our shared membership in Christ’s kingdom.

     I’m grateful that in times of national insecurity and challenges to a progressive view of the Truth testified to by Christ, that I have those around me that I can reach out to; folks that can help me temper my desire to respond with anger and cruelty. Instead, we can share in our pain and our frustration, and we can do the organizing and advocacy that we saw in the person of Christ and the kingdom that he testified to. And what a blessing that is, what a gift we’ve been given, a what a capital-t Truth we get to live into. Amen.

     Today’s scripture is a song that, like Cantaloupe Island, Under Pressure, and Genius of Love, you can hear in other beloved songs. Or, at least one other beloved song. You may have heard the newer song before:
​
‘My soul magnifies the Lord,
   and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior,
for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant.
   Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed;
for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
   and holy is his name.
His mercy is for those who fear him
   from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with his arm;
   he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
   and lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
   and sent the rich away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel,
   in remembrance of his mercy,
according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
   to Abraham and to his descendants for ever.’

     That is the song Mary sings in Luke 1:46-55. Christian tradition knows it as the Magnificat. We will be hearing more about it in just a few weeks during Advent. It is the song Mary sang when she agreed to be Jesus’ mother. As one unmarried and still a teenager in a culture where being unmarried and pregnant was not well-regarded, it was significant leap of faith to risk the social cost of her divine pregnancy, not to mention the physical risk inherent to pregnancy. It is perhaps unsurprising that a faithful teenager would reach back into the foundations of her faith traditions to find inspiration to carry her through her miraculous pregnancy. When she reached back, she reached back, she reached towards Hannah.

     Hannah was married to a man named Elkanah. He was also married to a woman named Peninnah. They lived in Ramathaim, also called Ramah, which is just north of Jerusalem. Penninah was able to have children with Elkanah. When we first meet Hannah, she had not. She deeply grieved not having biological children of her own, a grief not unfamiliar in our own era and a theme common in the Bible. Steven McKenzie, in his notes on 1 Samuel, points out that Hannah is in good company among women in Hebrew scripture who wanted to be mothers and had difficulty becoming pregnant. Sarah, Rebecca, Rachel, and the unnamed mother of Samson each wanted a child and each found themselves unable to conceive with their husbands.
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   In some cases, the husbands had additional wives or enslaved women in the family who were able to conceive. As Rev. Dr. Wil Gafney notes in one of her commentaries, this is an era in which women’s worth was often judged by her ability to produce many children, especially sons, who were most highly valued. To have this kind of family unit, which included multiple wives as well as enslaved women with little say over their own reproductive choices, was to create conflict among the women tasked with providing heirs for the patriarchs. Dr. Valerie Bridgeman described this conflict as a “soul irritation, [a] rub against the heart” in a commentary on an earlier part of 1 Samuel. Even though Elkanah deeply loved Hannah, he didn’t truly understand her grief over their infertility. Also, society judged her as less worthy and, rather than offer compassion to Hannah, Peninnah would provoke her, harassing her about her lack of children. I find the ways these two women are pitted against each other particularly disappointing, especially given how little support Hannah has in other places.

     In the midst of her grief, Hannah remained faithful. In the chapter before today’s reading, the family traveled to the holy site at Shiloh. In a commentary on that chapter, Dr. Gafney notes that Hannah appears to be worshiping in the tabernacle by herself, without her husband, and she speaks to the priest named Eli. She did not hide her grief, weeping and praying while making the vow, “O Lord of hosts, if only you will look on the misery of your servant, and remember me, and not forget your servant, but will give your servant a male child, then I will set him before you as a nazirite until the day of his death. He will drink neither wine nor intoxicants, and no razor shall touch his head.” Mckenzie notes that nazirites were boys and men set aside, or consecrated, to God for a set period of time. They weren’t allowed any intoxicating beverages or grapes, they couldn’t cut their hair or beards, and they couldn’t be around dead bodies. It was not small thing to set aside a child for God, especially one you had prayed so fervently to have.

     Eli watched her pray silently, which was strange because the prayers were supposed to be said aloud. He assumed she was drunk, with her intensity and tearfulness. He even began to chastise her for making a drunken scene. Thank goodness she stood up for herself, explaining that she was not intoxicated but pouring her soul out before God. Hearing this and believing her, Eli offered her a blessing, “Go in peace; the God of Israel grant petition you have made to him.” Hannah’s last words to Eli were “Let your servant find favor in your sight.” Not long after this encounter, she became pregnant. She carried to term and delivered a baby boy who she named Samuel. Samuel means, “I have asked him of the Lord.”

     She would honor her vow, taking the boy to Shiloh once he was weaned. He would have been older than a toddler at that point, but we don’t know how old. Hannah sings her song when she brings the boy, as well as sacrifices of thanksgiving, back to the place where she was assured that God heard her prayers. Dr. Bridgeman describes her words as a “prophetic song” that point to a future for their nation... a future in which Samuel will figure strongly as a prophet. He will be one of the ones who will push future kings Saul and David to live into their own callings to be kings according to God’s wishes.

     Hannah sings what she knows to be true... that God is the creator of all people and will lift the poor from the dust and the needy from the ash heap.... that God can lift up the lowly and bring down the mighty. It is no wonder that Mary would feel a matter of kinship with Hannah, though their stories are quite different. Hannah still showed her that one who had been dismissed and disregarded, one who had been understood to be a disappointment, could ultimately help do great things. She also saw in Hannah’s story a good husband who maybe didn’t understand exactly what was going on, but stood with his beloved regardless. Mary would need that kind of support, too.

     I imagine that you might be looking for some consolation and inspiration for the challenging times ahead. It is could to be remind that our ancestors in the faith did the same. May we reach back to our own foundations, as Mary reached to Hannah, and may we find strength that we are thankful for. May that strength care us into the just and loving future that God is inviting us to help create. May we hear echoes of Hannah’s reminder of the God who lifts the needy from the ash heap, and create a new version of that old song in this time and this place. 

Resources consulted while writing this sermon: 
Steven L. McKenzie's notes on 1 Samuel in The New Oxford Annotated Bible: The New Revised Standard Version with Apocryphya, ed. Michael Coogan (New York: Oxford University Press, 2001)
Valerie Bridgeman: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-33-2/commentary-on-1-samuel-14-20-5
Two resources written by Wilda C. Gafney:

• "Proper 6," A Women's Lectionary for the Whole Church: Year W, A Multi-Gospel Single-Year Lectionary (New York: Church Publishing, 2021)
• "Proper 20 (Closest to September 21)," A Women's Lectionary for the Whole Church: Year B (New York: Church Publishing, 2023)

Mark 12: 38-44
​
Jesus Denounces the Scribes

     As he taught, he said, ‘Beware of the scribes, who like to walk around in long robes, and to be greeted with respect in the market-places, and to have the best seats in the synagogues and places of honor at banquets! They devour widows’ houses and for the sake of appearance say long prayers. They will receive the greater condemnation.’

The Widow’s Offering

     He sat down opposite the treasury, and watched the crowd putting money into the treasury. Many rich people put in large sums. A poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which are worth a penny. Then he called his disciples and said to them, ‘Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. For all of them have contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.’

    I wanted share a story today that BeLoved Asheville posted on their Facebook page:
She arrived with a warm smile, holding something close to her heart. She looked at us and said, “You’ve helped so many of us here in Western North Carolina. I wanted to thank you in a way that goes beyond words. I make desserts—that’s my profession—and in every recipe, I pour my love for others. So, I brought this gelatin I prepared this morning, just for all of you.” I just have to tell you, the gelatin the lady brought to share is the most beautiful jello mold I have ever seen. It’s got big juicy strawberries and peaches in it. I kind of want to eat it right now. I love knowing that something so delectable looking came from such simple ingredients- a packet of gelatin, a container of strawberries, a can of peaches.

     Here’s another post titled " I remembered my first cup after the Hurricane" that BeLoved shared recently. It is a story someone shared with them about how their neighbors gathered in the early days after the storm:

Three days after the hurricane, I found myself in my kitchen, grateful for the gallons of water I’d stocked up on. With no electricity, no open stores, and no cell service, I decided to build a small fire outside my home. I needed something to bring a bit of normalcy amid the destruction, and coffee felt like the perfect start. The first sip warmed me, and I felt a tiny shift inside, a reassurance that everything would somehow be okay. I thought, "If this comforts me, maybe my neighbors need this, too."

So, I went door to door, a cup of coffee in hand. Some of these people I barely knew, yet each morning, we found ourselves coming together over a shared cup, feeling just a little more hopeful. One neighbor even told me, “For someone who treasures their morning coffee, your kindness was a beautiful reminder that things could feel normal again.

     The person who writes BeLoved’s posts then wrote:
His story reminded me of my own first post-hurricane coffee. Someone had come to BeLoved Asheville looking for water, and minutes later, they handed me a steaming cup. That coffee—shared amid the chaos—was one of the best I’d ever had. Maybe it was the kindness, maybe the familiarity, or maybe just the comfort of knowing someone had thought of me in that moment.

     A simple cup of coffee… it can build bridges, restore hope, and heal wounds we didn’t even know we had.
Today’s reading is often called “the Widow’s Mite.” I have been fortunate to observe many a widow give many a mite. I shared two stories from BeLoved Asheville, a community support organization that has been working together since 2009. BeLoved Asheville began with a small group of people who understand that “we need each other and that we can do far more together than we can do alone.” They work on connecting people to each other and to resources, and building communal power to support everyone’s thriving. But, this work isn’t just happening in North Carolina. It happens here, too.

     In the early days of the pandemic, when so many people were having a hard time finding and purchasing things they needed to survive, some people in Maine worked on getting a mutual aid group started. Mutual aid is a particular kind of organized sharing, based on treating people as trusted experts on their needs and sharing with each other as equals. The requests were often simple: “Has anyone in the Brunswick area found toilet paper in any stores?” or “does anyone have a few bottles of formula I could have for my baby?” I remember seeing a post from someone in Augusta who needed cat litter and laundry detergent. Tasha and I checked what we had. We didn’t have a ton of extra litter or detergent, but we had enough to share and regular paychecks coming in, so we knew we could replace it, so I messaged the person and said I could bring some by. I know it didn’t fix everything they had going on, but after I left, they could do several loads of laundry and clean up for their cats. And, that’s not nothing.

     Today’s reading, which features a poor person giving what, for them, is a sizable donation to their religious community, isn’t really a story about how we should tell poor people to give everything they have, though I’ve heard versions of that sermon preached. The widow is certainly to be understood as a faithful and generous person. And, I think her faithfulness is to be emulated. I try to, myself, even though I have far more means than she did. I don’t want to be a person who has money and then makes a big show of sharing it so that people will think well of me. I wanna give what I have because of the call to love God and love neighbor.

     Remember last week when we talked about the fruitful conversation Jesus and a nameless scribe had? They met each other as people equally devout, equally invested in living faithful lives. They both knew that loving God and love neighbor are the two most important commandment. That was the kind of scribe we hope for- one who is learned but also curious, and takes his place of authority in the community seriously while also not assuming he’s the only one with right answers.

     Today’s reading is about a different kind of scribe. There is always a risk when one has more education and more money and more influence in a community to use all of those things for your own edification. As Amanda Brobst-Renaud notes in her commentary on this text, Jesus is clearly rebuking those who seek honor and a good reputation and deference from the community while ignoring the needs of the poor. Those of us who are paid to be religious leaders have the opportunity to take advantage of the people who trust us. And, too often, religious systems rely on wringing out every last dollar and every moment of time from those who have little of either to share.

     My grandma always assumed that people who gave more money to the church got special treatment. She came to that belief honestly after years of observing that very thing happen. As a result, she always had really good boundaries around what she could give. She would share what she felt like she could, but, she was never tempted to, in the words of our reading, “give away her whole house.” She had a solid analysis of the situation: Christian communities should not be privileging the wealthy and she wouldn’t be pushed into giving more than she could in order to get the same treatment.

     In his commentary on the text, Samuel Cruz argues that Jesus is both “exalting the spiritual riches of the widow” and “letting the rich and powerful keep their scraps.” In the wake of the recent election, and the changes to the social safety nets and economy that the incoming majority party is promising, I imagine that we’re going to be spending some time doing what the widow in the story is doing- sharing money in places that are important to us- while also dealing with powerful people that are more concerned with being honored than caring for people. Let us remember those who give simple gifts out of great generosity, and be inspired to follow in their giving. Let us also resist the temptation to use our privilege in the community to make ourselves look good. Jesus never told us to follow him to impress people. He invited us to follow him in caring for the orphan and widow, in sharing with the hungry and thirsty, in tending to the imprisoned, and in welcoming the immigrant. May rid our systems of practices that take advantage of those with little to give, and celebrate the generosity of all who give greatly. For the coffee and jello molds that teach us about Jesus, we give thanks.

Resources consulted while writing this sermon:
​Two stories from BeLoved Asheville:

• Jello mold: https://www.facebook.com/share/p/tEV6RN97SPtmN6Wb/
• Coffee: https://www.facebook.com/share/p/VprxsVwQStV7z56U/

An Introduction to Mutual Aid from someone in the UK: https://mutualaiddisasterrelief.org/wp-content/uploads/2021/05/MutualAid-AnIntroduction.pdf

Amanda Brobst-Renaud: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-32-2/commentary-on-mark-1238-44-6

Samuel Cruz: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-32-2/commentary-on-mark-1238-44-5

Mark 12:28-34 The First Commandment

One of the scribes came near and heard them disputing with one another, and seeing that he answered them well, he asked him, ‘Which commandment is the first of all?’ Jesus answered, ‘The first is, “Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God, the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.” 

​The second is this, “You shall love your neighbour as yourself.” There is no other commandment greater than these.’ Then the scribe said to him, ‘You are right, Teacher; you have truly said that “he is one, and besides him there is no other”; and “to love him with all the heart, and with all the understanding, and with all the strength”, and “to love one’s neighbour as oneself”,—this is much more important than all whole burnt-offerings and sacrifices.’ When Jesus saw that he answered wisely, he said to him, ‘You are not far from the kingdom of God.’ After that no one dared to ask him any question.

​     Today’s reading comes from a tense and stressful time in Jesus’ life as told in the book of Mark. This is a time when Jesus is both teaching and arguing with religious leaders in his own community. The arguments will soon come to a head, drawing the attention of the Roman authorities, the ones who have supreme power to end someone’s life. Powerful people are growing frustrated with him. Sometimes when powerful people are frustrated, they hurt people. I think that at this moment in the story, Jesus knows that his life is in danger, but that doesn’t stop him from teaching and it doesn’t stop him from engaging with the people he doesn’t agree with.

     In his commentary on this text, Sung Soo Hong points out that one of the interesting things about the Gospel of Mark is that the people in it aren’t always only doing good things or only doing bad things. Some characters, like some of the scribes, will do some pretty bad things, like plan to hurt Jesus. But, then, we have a story like todays. A scribe is asking Jesus good questions and giving him credit for answering the questions well.

     Does anyone remember what a scribe is? Scribes could read and write in a time when not everyone could. They usually had official jobs in the community. I found a nice description of their work written by a scholar named Anthony Saldini. A scribe could work copying by hand documents and contracts for everyday people. They could also be government officials, like in 2 Kings and Jeremiah who worked in areas like governmental finances, local governmental policy, and record-keeping. The Pharisees, that is the group of people who were most concerned with rigorously keeping Jewish law, might also have scribes to help keep track of their documents and make copies of texts for them. This is probably he kind of scribe Jesus is talking with because the scribes are almost always described as hanging out with the Pharisees.

     When we read that Jesus is having a conversation with a scribe, it seems like the author wants us to think that Jesus is having a conversation with a smart person who knows Jewish religious writing and practices well. And, it’s interesting that in a time of high tension, that one of the people who belongs to a group of people that has been arguing with Jesus seeks him out to have a good, fair conversation about their shared religious practices. It matters that this person, who has been primed to mistrust Jesus, seeks him out and really talks with him about something they both think is important.

     If you could ask Jesus a question, what would it be? Does anyone remember the question the scribe asked? Which commandment is the greatest of all? Does anyone remember how Jesus answered? He told them that two were most important. First, “you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.” And, second: “you shall love your neighbor as yourself.” The scribe, who’s life’s work was being immersed in their religious traditions, knew immediately that Jesus was right.

     There is a long history within Jewish tradition of understanding the two tablets of the Ten Commandments to basically be one table with instructions on loving God and another with instructions on loving neighbors, a fact that Amanda Brobst-Renaud mentions in her commentary on this text. She also notes that in many parts of Jewish literature, that is both the Hebrew Bible and works by important Jewish thinkers, love of God and love of neighbor can’t be separated. She quotes Philo’s commentary on the Ten Commandments, and says that “those who only love God or only love others are ‘half-perfect in virtue; for those only are perfect who have a good reputation in both points of loving God and humans’” (Decal. 108-110). Jesus follows this tradition, indicating that to fully follow the commandments, love of God must be paired with love of neighbor. I might even argue that our love of God is made complete in our loving actions towards our neighbors.

     I imagine that the coming days will bring much anxiety, as those of us allowed to vote cast our votes by next Tuesday, and as all of us wait for what we can reasonably assume will be at least a few days for winners to be declared. It is wise to set our expectations to expect days of hard work among those ensuring election integrity and also likely bad behavior from some people who are using chaos and misinformation to build power. I hope that we can find ways to ground ourselves as we wait. I think today’s reading may be able to provide some of that grounding.

     Let us be like the scribe and ask Jesus questions that are meaningful to our faith. Let us be like Jesus and respond to good faith questions with clear answers. Like the scribe, may we give credit where it is due. And, may our love of God be perfected in our love of neighbor. This is a key question in this moment: who is my neighbor and how do I show them love? As frustration and anxiety mount this week, may you remember God, who invites us into covenant, and propels us through love. And, may you extend that love to all your neighbors, speaking truth, offering care, and crafting beloved community even in tense times. In this time of tension and conflict, may we be blessed by conversations that remind us of the faith God calls us to. And, may we leave those conversations recommitted to love as Jesus calls us.
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Resources consulted while writing this sermon:
Sun Soo Hong: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-31-2/commentary-on-mark-1228-34-7
Amanda Brobst-Renaud: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-31-2/commentary-on-mark-1228-34-6
Anthony Saldini's notes on scribes in Harper Collins Bible Dictionary, Paul Achetemeier, ed. (New York: HarperCollins, 1996)

     Yokes are heavy. They are made of dense wood, rope, and/or strong metal, like iron. Yokes are stout enough to bind together pairs of strong draft animals: oxen, Clydesdales, mules.  They are tools that allow us smaller creatures to constrain and direct the movements of much larger ones for our benefit. With yokes and the animals, we have trained to do the work, we plow fields, move goods, haul wood, and transport people. Yokes are heavy. No human who has been asked to carry one will dispute that.

     As I sat down to write this sermon on rest, I remembered that I’d read somewhere that American workers have become far more productive over the last several decades but that their incomes haven’t risen in the same way. I dug around to see if I could find the article where I saw that. I found some information from the Economic Policy Institute. I’ll share the whole article with my sermon notes later in the week. When they talk about worker “productivity,” they mean “how much economywide income is generated in an average hour of work.” They looked at a bunch of data and crafted a chart that starts in 1948.

     The data they gathered shows a workforce that has steadily grown more productive, generating more income per hour, since shortly after World War II. They say that workers are almost 81% more productive now than they were in 1948. But, workers’ pay is not 81% more than it was in 1948. When adjusted to today’s money, workers’ pay has only gone up 29% in that same era. Apparently, increase in pay as compared to increase in productivity has been particularly slow since the late 1970’s, when economic policies that had helped pay keep pace with productivity began to be dismantled. Now, I’m not an economist. But, it seems to me like that isn’t particularly fair.

     “Every shut eye ain’t asleep. I am resting my eyes and listening for what God wants to tell me.” This is what theologian Tricia Hersey shares that her grandmother Ora would tell her when asked about her daily 30-minute meditation session. She was one of the many African-Americans who fled the particular violent, impoverishing racism of Mississippi and moved to Chicago in the 1950’s. Even with eight children and the pressures of avoiding poverty and the racism and pressures of the city, she insisted on these 30 minutes of restful attention to God. In a world that often denies marginalized people rest, Hersey continues to be inspired by her grandmother’s radical insistence on taking time for her own soul and body.

     When Hersey was in seminary and synthesizing in her heart and mind the Jim Crow South history she was studying, she would fall asleep while reading. She came to see that as a gift from her grandmother, who showed her how rest, and even sleep, could open the door to the Spirit, bringing her healing and insight. For years now, she has been developing what she calls The Nap Ministry. While the name, at first blush, might seem slight, she takes rest very seriously. She says in her book Rest is Resistance, “If we are not resting, we will not make it.” Particularly for those from backgrounds of poverty and/or racialized violence or for those who, right now, are doing exhausting, under-compensated work, it is vital to claim rest as something good and necessary for cultivating the rich, whole life God desires for us.

     It is odd for Jesus to call a yoke “easy” and to call following him light burden. Especially when, in other parts of the Gospel, Jesus says that following him will be hard, like carrying a large, wooden cross (which, incidentally, is heavier than a yoke). Dr. Courtney Buggs points this out in a commentary on this text. She says, “When we consider the broader requirements of the Way, which involves leaving family; sacrificing self and one’s own interests; even at the risk of one’s life, would this be considered easy?” Dr. Buggs returns to the original Greek for insight.

     She notes that the Greek word we read translated as “easy” is chrestos and it usually means something more like “useful, serviceable, effective, kind.” The word we heard translated as “light,” elafros, can mean “slight, insignificant, or agile.” With those alternate translations in mind, she offers this reading of our scripture, “for my discipleship is characterized by divine kindness, usefulness, and serviceability, and my burden or load is slight, insignificant, and agile.” She believes that it is wise to consider these words not as a statement that following Jesus is simple, but as a remind that God is defined by kindness and trustworthiness. Those qualities can help us transform that which is a challenge into that which is reasonable and manageable... the way that 30 minutes of rest a day made the challenges raising eight children as a Black woman in 1950’s manageable for Hersey’s grandmother Ora.

     Perhaps the easy yoke is the counter point to the heavy cross. Our walk with Jesus will include both rest and sacrifice as a counterbalance. The sacrifice can be more easily born because of the rest that is offered alongside it. Jesus is not a CEO, laying off hundreds of workers, wearing down those who remain with added uncompensated labor, in order to pad his own pockets. Jesus is in the fields with his friends, gleaning, teaching, healing, praying, eating, and resting. With Jesus, there will be work, but there will also be rest.
Tricia Hersey, in her work as a spiritual director and theologian, has worked with so many people who are both exhausted and unable to take time to rest. In Rest is Resistance, she talks about hearing “I would love to rest more but I have bills. How is it possible?” This is one of the impossibilities of this very moment. Many people, particularly those who are most vulnerable, have little space for the rest they need to survive. And, our churches, which can be places for respite, can also be sites of over-work. Who here has needed a break from the responsibilities you have accepted as a part of this church? I bet a bunch of people here have. And, that’s fair.

     In her book, Kersey reminds us that “our worth is not connected to how much labor we can withstand.” Perhaps a word we can take from this as folks who love our church, our neighbors, and Jesus, but are also tired, is that we need to build systems, both within our churches and in the world, that don’t demand sacrifice without sabbath. Dr. Buggs lifts up two examples of churches offering rest and service in her commentary. The first is a church that had regular group of people who did not have homes but did feel welcomed by the church. The pastor and congregation had a breakfast before worship and a small changing room where people could pick up fresh clothes. They’d give anyone who could use it $5 as they came in the sanctuary, too. And, everyone, regular parishioners and people who started coming just for breakfast and funds, but opted to stay for worship, sat together as one body of Christ.

     The second example comes from her own life, as a young adult who had grown-up in the church, when Dr. Buggs got her first job out of college, she began to tithe to the church to support their ministry. She explains that after a year of trying very hard to manage her expenses, she was struggling to make ends meet. Though she was working, she wasn’t even always sure she’d have money for food. When she shared this with her pastor, the pastor helped in two ways. One, she told Dr. Buggs not to tithe for three months. And, two, she gave her food.

     This is a world where a small group of people benefit from large groups of people being worked too hard. Systems that required increased productivity without increased pay or increased support are systems that run counter to Jesus’ promise of rest that restores us for service. Today’s reading is a call to Imagine Together a rested church and community. May we make the time to rest within our church community. And, in times of service, make sure that our neighbors can rest, too.

Resources consulted while writing this sermon:
Courtney Buggs’ commentary in the Imagine Together stewardship material
Marvin A. Sweeney’s entry on yokes in in Harper Collins Bible Dictionary, Paul Achetemeier, ed. (New York: HarperCollins, 1996)
Productivity pay gap: https://www.epi.org/productivity-pay-gap/
Tricia Hersey, Rest is Resistance (New York: Little, Brown Spark, 2022)

​Isaiah 55 An Invitation to Abundant Life

Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters; and you that have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price. Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread, and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen carefully to me, and eat what is good,   and delight yourselves in rich food. Incline your ear, and come to me; listen, so that you may live. I will make with you an everlasting covenant, my steadfast, sure love for David. See, I made him a witness to the peoples, a leader and commander for the peoples. See, you shall call nations that you do not know, and nations that do not know you shall run to you, because of the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, for He has glorified you.

Seek the Lord while He may be found, call upon Him while He is near; let the wicked forsake their way, and the unrighteous their thoughts; let them return to the Lord, that He may have mercy on them, and to our God, for He will abundantly pardon. For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.

For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and do not return there until they have watered the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,   and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.

For you shall go out in joy, and be led back in peace; the mountains and the hills before you shall burst into song, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands. Instead of the thorn shall come up the cypress;   instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle; and it shall be to the Lord for a memorial, for an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off. 

     Think to a time of celebration in your life. Tell me what kind of celebration it is: a wedding, a holiday gathering, an anniversary, a birthday party, a graduation, completion of a big project, a welcome home. Did you eat when you celebrated? What did you eat? What kind of things did you eat? Cake! Steak! Brownies! Mashed Potatoes! Tacos! Pizza! Today's scripture is a story about celebration. Pizza is, unfortunately, not listed as one of the celebration foods. But, milk, honey, and wine are! And there's water and bread... probably fancy spring water and crusty focaccia bread. God says to the people, “Listen carefully and eat what is good, and delight yourselves in rich food.” It has been a long journey and you are home. Let's celebrate!

     Today's reading is from a portion of Isaiah that scholars call “Second Isaiah.” Remember, even though tradition credits this book to the work of one prophet, it was likely written over generations and inspired by several events and different prophets who had similar themes to the oldest parts by Isaiah. Second Isaiah is a series of what Patricia Tull calls “poems of hope” found in chapters 40- 55. Our reading for the day is the culmination of this vision of a hopeful future written for the group of people who were taken into exile in Babylon. The prophecy is clear: God is inviting God's people into great abundance. But, they must be willing to do something in order to get to the table.

     You remember that Babylon, in conquering Judah, destroyed Jerusalem and kidnapped many citizens of Judah, forcing them to live in Babylon. The audience for this prophetic poetry is the descendants a couple generations removed from those who were first taken. There is an explicit invitation to return to Judah within this poetry. Tull outlines some of the arguments the prophet makes for return in her commentary: 1) this is the land of Abraham and Sarah, the central founding figures of their faith; 2) their religious community, as symbolized by the nation of Israel, has a calling that was best lived out in their ancestral home; and 3) that they would be re-enacting the Exodus from Egypt. Basically, it matters that the people who were taken return home to those people and places that were left behind. It matters that the people rebuild.

     There may come a comfort in exile. If you never know when you may return, you may begin to figure out how to make a home in the place where you have been forced to go. You may even be able to craft a measure of comfort. You will certainly, within a few generations, have a measure of familiarity. Familiarity can be a gift, can't it? I can imagine that the grandchildren of the taken likely benefited from some stability, even as they knew they were exilees. It puts me in mind of people who were forced to leave New Orleans during Katrina. They were able to make a home in Houston or Atlanta or where ever they landed. Poor Appalachians who moved to Detroit and Cincinnati in the 1960's often shared a similar sentiment. They were able to make a new home and find stability in the wake of disruption. As Corinne Carvalho notes in her commentary on the text, some eventually no longer yearned for their first home. But, some did. And they taught their children and grandchildren about “back home.” Those grandchildren were the ones this chapter was written for.

     Here comes God who says, “yes, you've made a place in the place you never wanted to be in. But, now is a time to return.”  In her commentary on this text, Melinda Quivik points out that exile has a cost “devastation, anguish, loneliness, guilt, shame, terror.” The return to Judah would have a cost, too. It's no small thing to travel that distance to a place you have never been, to a people who were left with so little on which to survive, and a temple that lay in ruins. The poet prophets of Isaiah work to assure the people that God wants them to have an abundant, meaningful life. And, that life is found among those who were not taken and live among the ruins.

     Tull, in her commentary on this text, notes that text began as a reference to an historical event, the exile and return of Judean leadership and scholars, and became a potent symbol, especially for Christians, of a spiritual journey from alienation to home in God. She also argues that part of that spiritual journey is paying attention to concrete needs of people on that journey. It is not by accident that food and drink are key metaphors for God's abundance in this world. As Lee Yates says in a study of this text, “the kindom of God is a time and place when everyone has all they need, and everyone feels good about what they have.” What inspires people to hope is not only a spiritual connection with God, but also a reminder of the ways that restoration will help bring more steady access to all the things a body needs: food, drink, shelter, community.

     Many of us who read this text at this moment in time may not be reading it with an exilee's heart, though some might. I have a former professor who is transgender and left Tennessee after it became clear that the legislature was going to continue to work to deny him life-saving healthcare and guaranteed access to public bathrooms. He has found a good job pastoring in New York. He still speaks of this move as an exile. Even if you haven't had to make a move based on safety, you might still resonate with this reading. In her commentary on this text, Quivik invites us to consider “Who in your community, state, nation, and on earth lives in conditions of exile, devoid of what is stable and nourishing... who are those who need to be invited to what is life-giving?” Perhaps that's what Isaiah is inviting us, who are far away from Babylon, but still on a journey with God, to pay attention to. 
 
     Isaiah tells us that there is a future where people have what they need and are happy with it. That is what God hopes for us. How do we imagine, together, what that future where there is enough at every table may look like? I can't see the whole way forward yet, but I feel like I can see it in part. I saw a piece of God's kindom this week when I met a volunteer from Winthrop Hot Meal Program dropping off several days of food at the home of an isolated and impoverished senior. I saw a piece of God's kindom when our church, another church, and a mutual aid fund worked together to help a neighbor with rent. I know that the Board of Church and Community Concerns is already working on plans for supporting the Family Violence Project in the next few months. We are the ones being invited to give up some comfort and some time and some money to be a part of the blooming of the kindom of God. When we do, we are working alongside God, preparing for that feast we talked about just a few minutes ago. May our solidarity with those in the ruins bring us closer to the God we met at the table.

Resources consulted while writing this sermon:

Patricia Tull's notes on Isaiah 55 in the Imagine Together stewardship materials
Lee Yate's Sunday School curricula in the Imagine Together stewardship materials

Melinda Quivik: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/vigil-of-easter/commentary-on-isaiah-551-11-2
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Corrine Carvalho: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/narrative-lectionary/return-from-exile-2/commentary-on-isaiah-551-11​