Oh, my goodness. It has been a challenging couple of weeks to talk about debt forgiveness. On June 30th, 2023, the US Supreme Court shared its verdict on a lawsuit brought by 6 states’ attorneys general to stop the implementation of the president’s student debt relief plan. In that plan, some people would qualify for $20,000 of debt forgiveness and more would qualify for $10,000 of debt forgiveness. The court split along ideological lines 6 to 3, with the majority saying that federal law does not authorize the Department of Education to make that much of a change to loan agreements. At least one of the dissenting judges said that she didn’t think that the states had the right to sue at all. They were just attorneys general who didn’t like the plan for ideological reasons, not because it was without legal merit.

     As you have probably seen, the public’s response to this ruling has been... contentious. If you know as many people as I do with loads of student debt, you probably know a lot of folks who were looking forward to that debt relief. You might also know or even be someone who wasn’t in favor of the plan because you might think at least some people should pay their debts without government assistance. The most interesting series of responses I saw to this ruling came from members of congress who celebrated the ruling, usually sharing a post on Twitter saying something about how people who haven’t taken on debt or who have paid theirs off shouldn’t be asked to pay off someone else’s.

     Very soon after they’d made their post, someone else would chime in sharing that that very same legislator had recently had hundreds of thousands of dollars of Covid emergency loans forgiven. Those loans are also backed by money collected by taxes. Or, maybe they were large scale wealthy ranchers or farmers and had received millions of dollars in agriculture subsidies. Their businesses would fail without these subsidies. These subsidies are also funded through taxes. Having these two facts laid beside each other... that each person didn’t believe it was right for certain kinds of loans to be forgiven while also having personally had hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of dollars of other kinds of loans forgiven... was powerful and kind of funny. And, as I read today’s scripture, it also seemed familiar.

     Today’s reading is Jesus’ response to a question about forgiveness. Now, Peter’s question isn’t necessarily about financial debt, but Jesus uses financial debt as a metaphor to help people understand forgiveness of a broader nature. Peter asks, in the verses just before our reading, “Lord, if another sibling (meaning fellow believer) sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?” Jesus said, no. Even more. Like 77 times. Or, as some ancient sources say, 70 times 7 times. That is so many instances of forgiveness! That is so much grace shared! How is that even possible?

     In her commentary on this text, Audrey West talks about how when we can count something, at least for some people, it is easier to get our head around something. You should forgive. How many times? A lot. How much is a lot? 77 times. Some people might even be tempted to keep a tally. “Ok, that’s forgiveness number 76. You only have one left. Better make it count.” West thinks the numbers aren’t exactly the point here. Jesus isn’t telling you to keep a tally of how often you forgive someone on a spreadsheet on your phone. She says, “The forgiveness to which Jesus points is beyond one’s capacity to keep tabs, beyond one’s capacity to offer on their own strength or ability.” The story Jesus shares to highlight his ideas about general forgiveness involves an unimaginable level of debt forgiveness. He seems to hope that listeners can figure out how to apply this to their own lives.

     Ten thousand talents is a lot of money. More money than anyone in this room will ever see. In her commentary, West says that ten thousand talents would be an amount so large that it could be greater than the national debt of a small country. It would be impossible for one person, especially someone who was enslaved, to pay that off. When we hear how much this person owes, we should understand exactly why he is terrified of his debtor: he cannot pay and will never be able to pay. In fact, according to Eric Barreto, he may actually be enslaved because he sold his own self and possibly his family, into slavery to try and pay the accumulated debt.

     The possibility of being sold was terrifying, as was the possibility of having your loved ones sold. We should never forget about what utter power enslavers have over the people they own. This, itself, is an injustice. The ruler, though, is able to be moved when the indebted one pleads for more time. The ruler must know that more time won’t help. Repayment of this amount is impossible. And, yet, the ruler is moved. In a shocking move, he forgives all of the debt and release the man and his family from slavery. We should understand that this action would be considered miraculous.

     What happens next is far from miraculous. In fact, it is shockingly common place. The formerly indebted person runs into someone else who owes him money, about a hundred day’s wages. This is a fair amount of money, but, importantly, an amount that someone might be able to actually pay off. And, almost nothing compared to what was owed to the king. And yet, when given the option to share the same kind of grace he had been given, the formerly indebted person physically assaults the one who owes him money and gets him thrown in jail until he will.

     Snitching will not always get you many friends, but some people who were still enslaved felt like they needed to snitch on this man. He had been given so much mercy and had not passed it along at all. They ran straight to that ruler and tell him about the shady and cruel thing the forgiven man had done. The ruler opted to rescind his forgiveness: “You wicked slave! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?” Then the ruler turned him over to be tortured until he would pay. Remember, he will never be able to pay. There is a great price in choosing not to be merciful.

     According to Eric Barreto, this story indicates that Jesus understands forgiveness to be a serious matter with which his followers must contend. It is also, as Barreto reminds us, a commitment that is often abused. People are encouraged to forgive great harm with little promise of change or reparation from the one who caused the harm. Barreto doesn’t believe that’s what Jesus is calling us to do here. This passage follows a passage about how to faithfully confront someone who has sinned against you. In that passage, people who do harm are confronted and given the option to repent. In today’s reading, Jesus encourages his followers to be committed to the act of faithful confrontation, and, within that process, being committed to forgive those who ask for it.

     I don’t know exactly what forgiveness looks like in every case. Frankly, I don’t know that it’s possible for humans to forgive some wrongs, at least not in a way that lets them maintain relationship with the one that harmed them. West talks about “forgiveness from a distance” in her commentary. That seems pretty necessary sometimes. But, what is clearer to me is that those of us who have received life-saving mercy will, at best, look like fools and hypocrites if we don’t extend mercy to those who owe us far less than what we have been forgiven. At worst, our lack of mercy will land us in eternal torment. So, we must be serious about this matter of forgiveness, even if we aren’t always sure what it will look like in practice. Jesus will be alongside us while we try to figure it out.
​
Resources consulted while writing this sermon:
About the Supreme Court ruling: https://www.npr.org/2023/06/30/1182216970/supreme-court-student-loan-forgiveness-decision-biden
Some Tweets pointing out what kind of loans politicians had forgiven:

• Fischer: https://twitter.com/NebraskaMegan/status/1674913699478355973
• Mullin and Taylor Green: https://twitter.com/Acyn/status/1674881920352542720
• Flood: https://twitter.com/NebraskaMegan/status/1674975546554343424

Audrey West: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-24/commentary-on-matthew-1821-35
Eric Barreto: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-24/commentary-on-matthew-1821-35-5
 

​ Last week, we heard the first part of Matthew 15. In that part of chapter 15, Jesus was arguing with people who had a passion equal to his own about what was important in their faith. They were arguing about how to keep their shared religious laws, and how to weigh the value of traditions developed to keep those laws in light of human need. Jesus, like other Jewish teachers of his era, believed that human need should often guide how they followed their religious laws. This is why he thought it was ok to feed hungry people and healing sick people on the Sabbath. That’s what we read together.

Then, there was this additional bit of teaching where Jesus talked about eating. There were some very important religious laws about what was ok to eat and what was not. These were some of the religious practice that most clearly separated their community from other cultural communities that they lived alongside. Ultimately, and surprisingly for some people, Jesus said it was “it is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person, but it is what comes out of the mouth that defiles.” We should remember that this isn’t Jesus arguing against dietary laws, but, instead, is likely pointing out that you can eat or not eat everything you are supposed to and still say and do things contrary to God’s covenant. He said, “For out of the heart comes evil intentions.” He said evil intentions and actions defile. Eating without ritually washing one’s hands does not.

That is all context that should be in our minds. Jesus said human need is a vital part of how someone figures out how to follow their religious traditions. And, we saw Jesus regularly healing the sick when they sought him out. And, beating this story ritually pure was not more important to him than following the heart of their religious law, which was loving neighbor and loving God. When we remember all of that, we might pause when we hear this story about Jesus refusing to heal this woman’s daughter. It is a story that sounds so much like the stories of the countless people who followed Jesus into the wilderness. So why would he hesitate here?

It is curious that the woman who approaches Jesus in this story is called a Canaanite. In her commentary on the text, Marilyn Salmon notes that by the time this story would have been recorded, no nation in the area was called Canaan and no people were called Canaanites. By the time of Jesus’ adulthood, this name of a people, which was common in the Hebrew Bible, was already quite out of date.  It would be like calling modern day French people Normans. It just wasn't a term used for an existing people group. So, what does the use of this archaic term have to tell us about how to read this passage of scripture? 

Salmon thinks it's there to remind us of the power of ancient ethnic tension. Matthew, in calling this woman a Canaanite, instead of a Syrophoenician, as she is called in Mark, the author is reminding the listener of the greatest ancient enemy of the Jewish people, the Canaanites. The oldest books in our Bible rarely say anything good about a Canaanite. They are called everything but children of God. Throughout the most ancient texts, they are portrayed as murderers, rapists, and sexual deviants who profaned God and worshipped idols. In most of the religious stories Jesus heard growing up, Canaanites were villains. Even though, the scholar Mitzi Smith points out, three women in Jesus’ family tree were Canaanite, (Rahab, Tamar, and Ruth), and when Canaanite is used here, we are supposed to understand that Jesus was, in effect, speaking with an enemy.

We might expect Jesus, who healed the Centurion's servant, who hung out with tax collectors and sinners, who was touched by a bleeding woman and desperate lepers, and who chose to not follow all of the hand-washing rituals around eating, to help this unnamed woman as quickly as he did the masses of people who sought him out following the execution of John. But, he doesn’t. At first, he doesn’t respond to her at all. Then, he refuses to help and calls her a dog. His buddies also wanted him to run her off. But, she stayed.  

In her commentary on this text, Salmon notes that it can be tempting to try to justify Jesus’ actions here. If you are of the mind that individuals whom you respect can do no wrong, you might say that Jesus must be testing her or otherwise has a good reason not to help her. I would encourage all of us not to do that. Not only does this story not support that reading, it also sets up a precedent where those assumed to be good are never wrong. If this story were to stop at the moment when Jesus refuses to help this woman, it would be stopping at a point when Jesus is doing something wrong, or at the very least, outside of his stated values. Thank God the story doesn’t stop there. The woman gives Jesus the opportunity to practice what he preaches.

Thank God for this woman’s persistence. She would be heard because the future of her family was at stake. Somehow, she knew that Jesus could bring her child healing and she would not leave until he acknowledged her. In her commentary, Mitzi Smith notes that the woman brings some of her own cultural commentary to bear on the situation. In her culture, dogs might be more welcome near the table than they would have in the homes Jesus and the disciples were raised in. Yes, he might call her a dog, but even a dog can eat the crumbs that fall off the table. Or, as Dr. Smith puts it, “One can feed the children and feed the pets, too.”

​Hearing her wisdom, Jesus would change his mind. He would say, "Woman, great is your faith! Let it be done for you as you wish." And, her daughter was healed. Isn’t it good to follow a Christ who shows us the power of being willing to change our minds and adjust our behavior when someone shows us that we aren’t living up to the values we hold true. And, aren’t we lucky to count this woman as one of our teachers. May we be persistent in fighting for what is right. And, may we be willing to have a faith strong enough to change our minds.
 
Resources consulted while writing this sermon:
Mitzi Smith:
https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-20/commentary-on-matthew-1510-20-21-28-4
Marilyn Salmon:
https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=125
 

     In the chapters before today’s reading, Jesus has been rejected in his hometown, demonstrating, according to Andrew Overman’s notes on Matthew, that there are people turning against Jesus even as we will witness so many people turning towards him for healing. His cousin and baptizer John is also killed for daring to critique Herod and his wife Herodias. This shows us the possible outcome of ruthless people using their power to silence critics. Jesus had to go into the wilderness for a while after this, though the people who needed his healing followed them there. Scriptures tells us, with only five loaves, two fish, and the Holy Spirit, he fed more than 5,000 of them.

     Jesus went to the mountain to be alone again and his friends took to the water. In the midst of a terrible storm, his disciples saw him walking towards them on the water. Peter, struck by an intense faith, asked if he could do the same. Jesus said yes. Peter was brave enough to do it for a moment, but then grew afraid. Jesus caught him before he sank, offering a word that makes it sounds like Peter could have kept doing the impossible. With Peter and Jesus finally in the boat, they landed in a place called Gennesaret, where more people found him and asked to be healed, begging to even just be allowed to touch the fringe on his cloak, hoping that would cure them. Matthew 14:36 says “all who touch it were healed.”

     And, then, Jesus got into an argument. That’s where today’s reading starts: an argument. There has been so much tension: Jesus’ hometown was suspicious of him, his cousin was killed, people kept seeking him out even when he was needing time alone, and yet, he still healed people and helped his disciples do miraculous things.  Then, these respectable and respected people travel all the way from Jerusalem and ask him why his disciples are disregarding traditions that their shared community holds dear. To be fair, it sounds like a reasonable tradition. Who among us hasn’t been taught to wash our hands before we eat? This hand washing has more to do with ritual purity than germ theory, but still. It was common practice and inherited tradition in their religious community to wash one’s hands as a reminder of their connections to and commitments to God. The Pharisees and scribes, people very committed to their faith and to following their religious laws, would have noticed when someone who claimed to be a teacher and his disciples were not adhering to the practices that much of their community agreed were appropriate behaviors for demonstrating your faith.

     Jesus seems prepared, if testy, in his response. Remember, it’s been a challenging few days and weeks. He says something like “oh yeah, why do you break the commandment about honoring your parents for the sake of your tradition?” Then he described a tradition where people wouldn’t have to financially support their parents if they said that the money they were supposed to share with them was set aside as an offering to God. That is not described in the religious law, or Torah, given to Moses from God. It was a tradition that grew from people trying to figure out how to follow the Torah in lots of different kinds of situations. Overman describes these “traditions of the elders” as religious “regulations not found in the written Torah.”

     Notice that Jesus is drawing a distinction between religious law believed to be handed down to Moses from God and the traditions of interpretation that branched out from the Law.  Now, many of us learned traditions about how to live out our faith. Who here learned that you should wear a suit and tie or a skirt to church every Sunday in order to be respectful to God? Did anyone learn that you shouldn’t say swear words, especially at church, as a way to demonstrate your faith? Did anyone learn that women shouldn’t have leadership positions in church? These are three examples of traditions that elders in my childhood community taught me. Maybe you have similar examples. These traditions are usually justified by pointing to scripture, but I think are just as often a product of the culture in which a person was raised as they are of any straight forward reading of the Bible. 

     The traditions that Jesus and the Pharisees are referencing here are more formalized than the three examples I just mentioned. Even so, I hope you will remember that, for a long time, well before Jesus, people have been trying to figure out how to live out their faiths. And, they pass along what they learn. Sometimes the practices we learn from our forebears are useful. Sometimes, they are not. And, nearly always, people will disagree about what it means to actually live out our faiths. They might even argue about it.

     In his introduction to the New Testament, Bart Ehrmann points out that there are some teachings that people assume Jesus was either the first one to say it or that he always believed something very different than other Jewish teachers at his time. This idea is particularly prominent in discussion about how Jesus understood religious laws. For example, there are parts of scripture where the Jesus and/or the disciples are criticized for harvesting or healing on the Sabbath. Some claim that Jesus was unusual in saying that healing people and feeding hungry people is acceptable on the Sabbath. He wasn’t actually. Jewish people have always made allowances for care work, especially life-saving care work, to happen during the Sabbath.
 Another example: the Rabbi Hillel, one of the most revered rabbis to live around the time of Jesus’ own life, is said to have believed something very much like Jesus’ own golden rule: “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Hillel put it this way: “What is hateful to you do not do to your neighbor; that is the whole Torah, while the rest is commentary. Go and learn it.” It is important for us to remember that Jesus found deep meaning and usefulness in following the religious law and many traditions of his people. At the same time, he, like Hillel, was clear that love and mercy are the most important aspects of the law.

     If we think about the stories leading up to today’s scripture, we see Jesus actually trying to live this out. He preached the truth as he understood it in his hometown, even though people did not respond well to it. In the midst of his grief over the execution of his cousin and mentor, he still made space for acts of mercy and love for the crowds who continuously sought him out. Storms, literal and emotional, did not stop him from practicing love, even when he could have likely used a break. Bart Ehrman describes Jesus’ actions this way, “The Law is to be obeyed to the fullest extent possible, but in obeying the Law what really matters is human need.” Everything else is subservient to the command to love. Even the traditions that the elders passed down to help us learn how to live out our faith.

     People will quibble about what “loving action really means,” even arguing that abandoning children for being gay or refusing to feed hungry people is actually loving. They are wrong, by the way. Because they have forgotten that part about doing unto others... they have forgotten that human need is an adequate reason for going against tradition. What I pray we will gain from this scripture is a reminder that our traditions have use only as far as they lead us to love. And, when measuring our actions between the way we’ve always done it and a way that will alleviate human need, we will remember that Jesus persistently cared for the need first. May we go and do the same.

Resources consulted while writing a sermon:
​Bart Ehrman's chapter on Matthew inThe New Testament: A Historical Introduction of The Early Christian Writings, 2nd ed. (New York: Oxford University Press, 2000).

J. Andrew Overman's notes on Matthew in The New Oxford Annotated Bible: The New Revised Standard Version with Apocryphya, ed. Michael Coogan (New York: Oxford University Press, 2001)

     Somewhere on the internet this week, I saw a video where two people are hiking next to a field full of tall yellow flowers. One of them says “Look at these beautiful flowers.” The other one immediately pipes in, saying “that’s actually super invasive.” I wish I could remember where I saw it so I could tell you who made the video. They are talking about shortpod mustard, a beautiful plant that grows bountifully in lots of places it's not supposed to be, including my yard.

     Jesus was a good teacher. He knew that people can learn new ideas more easily if the new ideas are connected to something familiar. If you’re preaching to a bunch of farmers and people who cooked their own food, you might compare your new idea to some aspect of farming or baking that they are very familiar with. In her commentary on today’s text, Jennifer Kaalund says, “These literary devices are effective ways for giving color, life, and meaning to concepts that would otherwise be difficult to understand.” Jesus was also a challenging teacher. Just because he was teaching using images that were immediately familiar to the hearers, that doesn’t mean that his teaching will be easy or that the meaning will be immediately clear. Today’s reading, which includes parables about mustard plants and yeast or leaven, are two parables that are familiar but also complex.

     Our yard and the field some random instagrammer was walking through are not the only places where mustard grows. In his commentary on the text, David Lose says that when we read “mustard” here, we shouldn’t think of yellow spread we put on hamburgers or the delicious greens we eat with porkchops. Instead, we should think of an invasive plant that will take over your whole garden. It takes up all the space and nutrients that the vegetables you want to grow to eat actually need. And, I’ve learned that it can outcompete native wildflowers, too, making it hard for them to have the space and nutrients they need to propagate. And, remember those birds that can nest in the mustard? Do we really want a lot of birds in our gardens? No. Most of us don’t. We construct all manner of scarecrows and clanging pie pan contraptions to keep them out.

     In the translation we heard today, the next parable says that the Reign of God is like “yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour until all of it was leavened.” In his commentary on this text, Mark G. Vitalis Hoffman clarifies that the “yeast” referenced here isn’t a nice and “tidy little packet” of yeast like we use. Jesus is actually talking about something called “leaven,” which is, and I quote, “a rotting, molding lump of bread.” Ew. Though, to be fair, that’s kind of how you got yeast at the time... you hoped to capture the yeast that was naturally in the air and on stuff like old bread or maybe pine needles. And, he argues that she’s not mixing it in the flour so much as hiding it. And three measures of flour is enough to make an amount of bread big enough to feed a hundred people. Hoffman also argues that leaven is often understood to be a pollutant, something that made food unfit to eat, and is regularly used as a metaphor for sin.

     For those keeping score: It appears that Jesus is saying that the kingdom of God is a weed that takes over your whole field and, also, like something moldy being hidden in your food. How do we feel about a vision of the empire of heaven as a place where that which is unwelcome and unclean has found a home? Because that kind of seems like what is happening here. This isn’t just a couple parables about big things starting from little things. The pests and pollutants in these parables are describing to us the presence of God being uniquely suited to spreading quickly and taking up residence in every nook and cranny of anywhere where there is space.

     Through these stories, though, the pests and pollutants are redeemed. Weeds become shelter. Birds, instead of thieves, are evidence of life and abundance. The enormous pile of flour is actually given the ability to rise, and, when mixed with other ingredients and heat, to nourish many people. David Lose puts it this way: “Might God’s kingdom be like that – far more potent than we’d imagined and ready to spread to every corner of our lives?” Mark Hoffman also invites us to consider these parables to be telling us that God’s reign will grow in unexpected and possibly scandalous ways. Hoffman argues, that especially for the early church that was trying to explain how Jesus could have been the Messiah and also murdered like a common criminal by Rome, it was vital to pass along this tradition of Jesus’ teaching that showed that Divinity and the unwanted and unwelcome could abide in the same space.

     Jesus is clear that he has come to share was has been hidden. Like the woman with the leaven, he knows exactly what is in the flour. He also knows that parables, like yeast that takes time to grow or mustard that is spreading, root by root, seed by seed, are not a kind of teaching that is clear at first listen. Like the pine needle soda we mixed up before the sermon, it might need to sit for a little while to be ready. Like the bread that will rise and the seed that will grow, God’s reign of love and justice will make itself known. I pray that we will have eyes to see it as clearly as the yellow blooms lining our fields. (Though, if you have mustard growing in your yard, go ahead and pull it up... it’s not supposed to be here anyway).

Resources consulted while writing this sermon:

I learned about pine needle soda from Alexis Nicole Nelson (@blackforager on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/reel/Cl9ydeOjg-Y/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==) She also mentioned this recipe from Ms. She and Mr. He: https://msshiandmrhe.com/pine-needle-soda/

David Lose: http://www.davidlose.net/2014/07/pentecost-7a-parables-that-do-things/
Invasive of the Week: https://www.instagram.com/p/Cs9OfFVtj97/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igshid=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

Mark G. Vitalis Hoffman: http://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=983
​
Jennifer T. Kaalund: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-17/commentary-on-matthew-1331-33-44-52-4
​

      “This is my favorite thing, is like, when someone takes a recipe that works, and then changes everything about it.” This is what chef, teacher, and author Samin Nosrat said to her dear friend and “Homecooking” podcast co-host, Hrishikesh Hirway. “This is my favorite thing, is like, when someone takes a recipe that works, and then changes everything about it.” The recipe they were talking about was Hrishi’s mom’s beloved mango pie recipe. Hirway, who is a producer of several podcasts and a musician by trade, is also an avid home cook. The mango pie recipe is one of their family favorites.

     Hrishi’s family immigrated to the United States from Western India. And, like many families, incorporated their favorite ingredients into foods and celebrations in their new home. The mango pie was Hrishi’s mom, Kanta Hirway's, answer to a pumpkin pie. Hrishi speaks of this pie with such reverence: “It was, and still is, the best dessert I’ve ever had.” The recipe includes a graham cracker crust with a little cardamom in it, and a mango custard made with whipped cream, cream cheese, and mango puree, specifically, Alphonso mango puree. The Alphonso mango is a particularly delicious mango. Hrishi argues that his mom’s recipe is superior to all other mango pie recipes because she only used this kind of mango.

     So, what’s this business about changing a recipe that works? Hirway’s mother died in 2020 after being ill for many years. With the pandemic, they were not able to gather for her funeral the same way that they usually would. She died just before Thanksgiving, too, and the family just was not up for making the pie without her. But, in 2021, Hrishi and his wife found a way to more safely gather friends for Thanksgiving. He decided to make mango pie. He also decided to try to make it vegan.

     I don’t know how many of you have tried to make food that usually uses dairy fat with vegetable fat instead. While there are many vegan recipes that work really well, Hrishi’s first attempt at a vegan mango pie... did not. You might have guessed that when you heard that Samin had commented, in great jest, that she thinks it’s great when people take a good recipe and change everything about it. She knew that the custard part of the pie hadn’t worked at all. In the episode of their podcast, Hrishi shared how the pie filling just hadn’t set at all. It ended up with a consistency more like melted ice cream. It was still delicious... just not exactly pie.

     Not one to be daunted by a recipe that didn’t quite work out the first time, Hrishi decided that if the pie that didn’t set kind of remind him of melted ice cream, then maybe his alterations to his mom’s recipe might actually make good ice cream. He started working with an ice cream company called Salt and Straw to create an ice cream inspired by his mom’s recipe. While I have not had the ice cream because 1) I just learned about it, 2) it is not a company that sells much here, and 3) I am allergic to mango, it sounds delicious. They tried to follow her recipe closely, blending mango puree with cream cheese and whipped cream to create a custard like her pie filling. They then swirled something called a caramelized mawa ice cream with the mango custard. I learned from the Salt and Straw website that wawa is a dried evaporated milk often used in Indian sweets. And, lastly, they put crumbled and salted graham cracker dust on the whole thing. This whole thing sounds wonderful and Hrishi was so proud to be able to share his mom’s recipe with the world in one more way.

     As I was thinking about today’s scripture, which speaks of the beauty of God’s wisdom, I thought of this story from the Homecooking podcast. I think it takes a lot of wisdom to make something good come out of a failure. It takes a lot of wisdom to be able to look at a result that didn’t turn out the way you expected, and still find the things that did work and are worth building on. Just because the new thing doesn’t work right the first time, doesn’t mean you have to stop trying. Sometimes the thing you’re trying to do doesn’t work the way you want, at least not the first time.

     Even Mrs. Hirway’s original recipe came from her tinkering with other mango pie recipes developed by other Indian immigrant cooks, trying to combine the food traditions of their home culture with the food ways of their new home. It sounds like she perfected her recipe through experimentation, only really loving it when she realized that Alphonso mangos, being so delicious, would make a richer pie. It also sounds to me like she helped teach her son how to keep trying new things until you find the most delicious version possible, even if what you make along the way isn’t perfect. While the Psalm says that God’s teachings are perfect, we aren’t God. Our attempts to live out the Wisdom passed on to us will inevitably be imperfect. But, we must remember that you can build on the imperfect. You can’t do anything with the “never tried.”

     In Rolf Jacobsen’s commentary on the text, the portion of the Psalm we heard today is described as a teaching who God is and what God wants for our lives. In this scripture, and others, God’s teachings and wisdom wrought from those teachings are the place where we learn what God hopes for our lives. God’s wisdom is to be cherished and pursued. It is more precious than gold and sweeter than honey... maybe even sweeter than mango puree. Wisdom, gleaned from the law, is God’s gift to God’s people, as a parent offers a child rich food to help them grow strong. Or, maybe even more like a parent who teaches her child to build on, play with, make good use of the wisdom she is teaching him.

     In their conversation on the podcast, Samin described what happened with Hrishi’s recipe experiment as “Pie failure, but ice cream success.” My hope for this week is that you pursue the wisdom shared with us with the fervor of a kid eating their favorite dessert or a home cook trying to find new ways to share his culture and his family story with friends. And, I hope that even if your attempts to bring this wisdom to life aren’t perfect the first time, you find your own ice cream success as you keep trying to make the recipe anew, even if you have to ask some friends to help you tweak the new recipe you’ve created. 

     I will finish with these words Hrishi shared about his mom in another article about the ice cream: “My mom, like so many moms, gave me a sense of who I am through food. She brought joy into my life and other people's lives through her cooking. And I'll always be thankful for that.” May we all be so blessed.
​
Resources consulted while preparing this sermon:
The Homecooking podcast where Hrishi Hirway and Samin Nosrat talk about the mango pie experiment: https://homecooking.show/episodes/17
The Mango Pie recipe: https://cooking.nytimes.com/recipes/1019974-mango-pie
The article about the Mango Pie: https://www.nytimes.com/2019/02/06/magazine/mango-pie-indian-american-recipe.html
Another good article by Hrishi about the pie and about the ice cream that was inspired by it: https://www.cbsnews.com/news/giving-thanks-through-the-joy-of-mango-pie/
A description of the ice cream https://saltandstraw.com/blogs/news/thanksgiving-traditions-told-through-ice-cream?_pos=1&_sid=92fe9343b&_ss=r
Rolf Jacobsen: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-26-2/commentary-on-psalm-197-14
​

 ​Has anyone here ever heard the word “cornerstone” before? Do you know what one is? Yes. That’s right: A block or stone that is set in the corner of a building, often the first corner. It is supposed to be strong and stable, and help set the direction for construction of the rest of the walls. 

You might see it laying on the ground, as one of the first parts of construct or a few feet up from the ground, often at the point where a building is shifting from foundation walls to the parts of the building where we live and work. Sometimes buildings have special cornerstones to celebrate when they were built or values that were important to them when they built it.

I asked some pastors I know if they’d be willing to share pictures of cornerstones at their churches. I found another neat picture of one, too. I wanted to show them to you.​

        Cornerstones come up a lot in the Bible. Sometimes it’s just because they are describing a building or someone being able to build. In Job 38, God is talking to Job about creating the universe, comparing the act of creation to that of constructing a building. God says,

     ‘Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding. Who determined its measurements—surely you know! Or who stretched the line upon it? On what were its bases sunk, or who laid its cornerstone when the morning stars sang together and all the heavenly beings shouted for joy?

     And, the prophet Jeremiah talks a little about cornerstones, but only to say that Babylon, the country that had beaten Israel so badly in war, was soon going to have a downfall so spectacular that they wouldn’t even have stones left to build with.

     Other times, though, when the Bible is talking about a cornerstone, they are actually talking about a person. Today’s scripture is a day when they are talking about a person. Do you remember who the person is? That’s right, Jesus. I said earlier that one way that Job talked about what God does is comparing the creation to a house God built, laying a cornerstone so the house will have a good foundation. In some cases, what God is building is a community or a country. People would describe a leader as someone who is like a cornerstone, that is, helps create a strong foundation for their country. In Isaiah 28, the prophet describes a leader who hold corrupt religious leaders and rulers to account. That person is called a cornerstone.  They will lay a foundation with justice and righteousness. When people were trying to figure out how to explain who Jesus was and when Jesus himself was trying to explain his mission, he and his friends often turned to Isaiah: “See, I am laying in Zion a foundation stone, a tested stone, a precious cornerstone, a sure foundation:  ‘One who trusts will not panic.’”

     We’re not sure who wrote the letter that we call 1 Peter. It might be someone called Silvanus who was acting as kind of a scribe for Peter. But, it probably was just someone who appreciated Peter’s teaching and lived a few generations after he did. This person wanted to help members of the church in Rome deal with a difficult situation. This was a time when most people weren’t Christians. And, some people did not trust those who were Christians. According to a scholar named Eugene Boring, they thought Christians were unwelcome and maybe even dangerous. When you go from feeling loved and accepted by society to feeling unwelcome and having people say abusive things to you, it can be really hard. The person who wrote this letter wanted help them manage being untrusted and being treated badly. Because that’s something that our faith is useful for: giving us comfort and also reminding us that Jesus gives us the strength to do what’s right, even when it’s hard and the majority of people don’t want you to.

     Even to this day, when so many people are Christians and largely aren’t being persecuted in this country, we know that it can be hard to follow your faith when the broader community is making different choices than you are. As just one example: Right now, when it seems increasingly popular to try to criminalize transgender people and keep them from being able to exist safely in public, we Christians who know that God loves transgender people may feel pressure not to say so out loud because so many people are being cruel to people who they think are trans. Even though we know that our faith in Jesus tells us that transgender people deserve love and care, especially for people who aren’t transgender, it can be tempting to not share that part of our faith aloud. It is tempting to stay silent as a way to protect ourselves.

     Our reading today does not tell us to pretend to be less faithful than we are to survive. Instead, it tells us to look to Jesus, our cornerstone, our foundation, and build up a church, like we are building a house, and make it strong enough to withstand the forces that would punish us for daring to live our faith in public. This is what it means to be church: to think of ourselves as stones lain upon the cornerstone of Christ, standing firm together for love and justice.

     This week, as you watch the news or think about legislation being passed that you know is harming some of God’s beloved children, I hope you remember this text and feel less alone. We can be a spiritual house together. We can help make each other brave. We can teach each other to advocate. We can care for each other when things are hard and still live our lives faithfully, even when the broader community seems to be lost in suspicion and abuse. I hope you will feel Jesus, a cornerstone under your feet, making clear the path of love and justice before you. 

Resources consulted while writing this sermon: 
Carolyn Brown: http://worshipingwithchildren.blogspot.com/2014/03/year-the-fifth-sunday-of-easter-may-18.html
The entry on "cornerstone," written by Robert A. Wild in the Harper Collins Bible Dictionary, Paul Achetemeier, ed. (New York: HarperCollins, 1996)
Shively Smith: https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/fifth-sunday-of-easter/commentary-on-1-peter-22-10-3
M. Eugene Boring"s, intro to 1 Peter in The New Oxford Annotated Bible: The New Revised Standard Version with Apocryphya, ed. Michael Coogan (New York: Oxford University Press, 2001)

Psalm 23: The Divine Shepherd

A Psalm of David.

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want.
   He makes me lie down in green pastures;
he leads me beside still waters;
   he restores my soul.
He leads me in right paths
   for his name’s sake.

Even though I walk through the darkest valley,
   I fear no evil;
for you are with me;
   your rod and your staff-
   they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me
   in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil;
   my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me
   all the days of my life,
and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord
   my whole life long.

     I have told you all this before, but I often think about it when I read this scripture. When I was in elementary school, I did not go to church regularly. My sisters and I occasionally went to Sunday worship with my grandfather. Those of you who attended the Alive and Thrive workshop the Maine Conference held here last weekend heard Marisa talk about how some kids get involved in church because their grandparents take them. I am one of those kids. We nearly always went for vacation Bible School in the summer. And, sometimes we'd make it to the Easter service, primarily because there was an egg hunt after church. But, that's really it.

     I am from the South, a region that continues to be one of the most consistently religious and persistently Christian areas of the country. Much of my family and many of my neighbors were active Christians. My great-grandmother was deeply religious and wanted to make sure that I had a good foundation in Christianity. She sang hymns while she pushed me on the swing in her front yard. She made sure that a children's Bible was among the books I could read at her house. She also taught me some Bible verses. While Psalm 23 wasn't the very first passage she taught me, it was one of the ones that she made sure I knew.

     My great grandmother wasn't the only reason I knew this passage. I felt like Psalm 23 was all over the place. It seemed like this scripture was on the back of every funeral bulletin. It was printed on little cards that sat next to the cash register in bookstores.  It was occasionally on stickers on pick-up trucks and big rigs that roared past us on the local highways. As far as I could tell, most people, even people like me who didn't attend church regularly, knew this passage. And, many of them claimed that it was their favorite passage in the whole Bible. I must admit if you don't know much else in the Bible, this passage does seem like a good one to know.

     I think people like this Psalm because it shows them a God who is involved and invested in their life. Through it, people engage with a God who is there, even in the worst times, to bring comfort and support. When people need help, they read it and see that even though they may feel like they are in the shadow of death, in the end, goodness and mercy will follow them. They will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. When times are hard, we need the comfort and protection of God's rod and staff.

     While researching this Psalm a while back, I came upon the work of Joel LeMon. He encourages us to remember a few things that might help bring new life into a scripture that many of us know so well. He points out that this Psalm is about a journey. If you have ever met sheep, you know that they aren’t necessarily in the habit of walking in orderly lines towards a destination. They are actually hard to keep track of. If you need to move sheep from one place to another, you hire an experienced shepherd to guide them.

     This shepherd in the Psalm guides the sheep by leading them to what is called “paths of righteousness.” LeMon notes that the shepherd is not hacking these paths out of the wilderness. The original Hebrew indicate that these paths are well-worn tracks. They are full of ruts from carts that have traveled this path many times before the current flock. LeMon seems to argue that to move with God is, in some ways, to find the groove that your forbears have made for you, and use this groove to make your own journey easier. You don’t travel this distance alone. Your community has cleared the path for you, and you clear the path for those who will follow.

     One of the things that is hard about being a sheep is that a lot of other animals want to eat you. When the Psalmist spoke of being a sheep as a metaphor for a faithful life, that also includes a recognition that a sheeply life is also sometimes a perilous one. Death is, too often, close. But, God, the shepherd, offers protection and safety. The end of the Psalm describes a scene of great comfort. The narrator is given a place at the table, plenty of food and drink. The enemies, the ones who would devour her, watch in hunger.  In verse 6, a powerful statement of future hope in God is often translated as "Goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life." It may have a more powerful meaning. LeMons says that the word that here is translated “follow” is more often translated as "pursue." So the sentence maybe be more like “I will be pursued by goodness and mercy my whole life long.” In this Psalm, faithfulness means that you will not be devoured by evil. Instead, you will be enveloped by good.

     As I said earlier, many of us read the last verse as a happy ending: I will live in God's house forever. We read the story as though we are working through a journey with a definite end. We are simply working our way from point A, our lives, to point B, God's house, where we can stop. LeMon suggests another reading of that last verse. He argues that a better translation of the Hebrew doesn't leave us with the house of the Lord as an endpoint where you stop, but, instead, maintains the idea of movement and journey. This word that gets translated as "dwell" maybe better translated as "return”. He suggests the translation, "I will continually return to Yahweh's presence my whole life long." Like sheep who continually move between winter and summer pastures, our life is marked less by movement towards a single destination where we stop, and more by our return to the places where we most closely feel the presence of God. We can seek God down deep in the protected valleys of winter and up high on the windy, green slopes of summer. God is present in the journey, not simply as the destination.

     With LeMon’s work in mind, Psalm 23 becomes a more vibrant, active vision of faith. It captures the seasonal nature of life. The ups and downs of our journeys. It keeps us connected not just to God, but to the ones who helped break the paths that God leads us down. It reminds us that we will help make the paths for the ones who follow. And, this part about being pursued by goodness and mercy... what a gift in a time of anxiety to be invited to replace the wolves in our hearts and minds with a good shepherd, following along, keeping us safe and guiding us to the food and drink that nourish us.

     I hope you’re finding good paths these days, with ruts that guide you along the way. Even when the journey is difficult, I pray that you feel the presence of a shepherd guiding you to places of respite and through the shadowy valleys. May you feel enveloped by goodness rather than chased down by death. And, may you return and return and return again to the presence of God, the one who tends to your needs all along this journey.
​
Resources consulted while writing this sermon:
Joel LeMon https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=2372
​

     In seven miles, I can buy donuts, stop at the grocery store, stop at the vet, a brew pub, an antiques mall, a country club, buy a tractor, and a lobster roll. I can stop at two pharmacies, two gas stations, two post offices, and two flower nurseries. In about seven miles, I can get to the Monmouth transfer station. In about seven miles, I can hike at Mt. Pisgah. In just over and just under seven miles, depending on my route, I can pick berries at one farm in the spring or apples at an orchard in the fall. I can do a lot in seven miles. The two friends in this story can, too. In seven miles, they can see Jesus.

     Imagine yourself on the road to Emmaus. We’ll call it the road to Mt. Pisgah if that helps you get the distance in mind. You and your dear friend have had one of the worst weeks of your life and you are very sad. And, you’ve decided that you need to get out of the city and go to the small town... or, in our case, Mt. Pisgah. And, you walk and talk about what has happened and you meet someone who does not know.... who seems to be coming from the same place you have but has no idea what has gone on. When he asks again, you try to figure out how to tell the story. You’ve got about seven miles to get it right.

     If you didn’t know about the resurrection yet, and a stranger asked you about Jesus, what might you tell them? You all should have gotten a slip of paper when you came in. Write down what you might say and put your response in the offering plate. If you’re online, you can put yours in the chat as you think of it. I’ll share the responses later. Here's what the two disciples told the stranger who was walking with them. They said that Jesus was:  "a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people." Despite his good deeds and powerful words, community leaders grew threatened by him. Rome killed him like a criminal, torturing him on a cross. In one of the saddest lines in the whole Gospel, these two disciples say that "we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel." They thought that their hope was in vain. They didn't understand how redemption could come if he was dead.

     They tell the stranger that it has been three days since their hope died alongside Jesus. That very morning, some of the women who also followed Jesus showed up telling a rubbish story about how they saw angels at his tomb who told them he was alive. That’s right. This story took place on the day of the resurrection but these two hadn’t seen Jesus... yet.  They tell the stranger that one friend, Peter, went to the tomb to see what the women were talking about. He sure as heck didn't see any angels. He didn’t see Jesus either... not his body or his spirit. Only his burial clothes.

     How far into this seven miles do you think the story has taken them? Ted’s Trackside Grill? Charlie’s Chevrolet? Somewhere in the wilds of Monmouth? Maybe just the Circle K? Regardless of how long it took, they were likely surprised when the stranger responded to their sad and harrowing tale with something that sounded an awful lot like a rebuke. Did you hear the part where the stranger called them foolish and slow of heart? He went on to say that they've misunderstood everything about the law. He said that there was more divine, redemptive potential in this whole week and they had missed it. He then started teaching them.

     I think it's really interesting that they don't realize that this stranger is Jesus when he begins to teach them. Throughout the Gospel of Luke, Jesus has been teaching them. From his first public mission statement back in chapter 4 through the Sermon on the Plain in chapter 6... through all the healings and exorcisms... through the prayers and parables, and long-lasting dinners, all the way up to the day of his arrest, Jesus had been teaching them. If you had asked me where I would have guessed that these two would have recognized Jesus, I would have said right here, in this moment when he began teaching. How could they not see the one they so loved traveling alongside them when they heard the words of wisdom come out of his mouth?

     Where are we now? Somewhere near that farm close to Mt. Pisgah trailhead? The stranger seemed to be ready to keep walking as the disciples reached their destination. Notice that he still hasn’t told them who he is. But, they aren’t ready to be done with his company. I once read a translation that said that they “twisted his arm to get him to stay.” They explained that it was late, with the subtext that it might be dangerous to travel solo at night. They invited the stranger to stay with them, where it was safe. That sure seems like something Jesus would have done.

     I have often wondered if their offer of hospitality is what finally lets them see the stranger for who he really is. It’s not the muscle memory of the walk or the familiarity of the teaching, but the welcome and care that began to prepare their hearts for a revelation.

     If we were walking about seven miles with them, we’d be near the fire tower now, right? Maybe setting out a blanket and getting the food ready that we brought to share.
​
     The two disciples sat down with the stranger and began a simple meal. It might be familiar to you. There was bread, and the stranger blessed it and broke it and gave it to them. And, immediately it became clear. Familiar movements... a hand raised, bread torn, food shared. They had been fed like this before. The moment they knew who he was... that this was their beloved Jesus, he was gone, leaving them with crumbs in their beards and hope burning in their hearts.

     Has your heart burned in recognition of Christ lately? Have you stumbled into Jesus in the midst of following his guidance, as these two disciples once did? Has an act of hospitality turned into an encounter with the divine? What’d you do about it?

     Jesus’ friends ran seven miles back to Jerusalem when they realized who they had been walking and eating with.  I have never run seven miles in one stretch in my entire life. I might be enticed to do so, even with this achy ankle, if I met Jesus in the midst of a hopeless time. In the terrifying darkness, on the wilderness road, they ran back to make sure the rest of Jesus' followers would know the truth. They confirmed what the women preachers had already told the rest of the disciples. They said that not even death could stop Jesus for long. They had seen him once again at the table. Of course, they met him at the table. Jesus is usually found at the table, tending to the physical and spiritual needs of friends, strangers, and enemies alike.

     The disciples had seven miles and one meal to figure out who Jesus was. And, they had seven more miles to figure out how to tell their friends what they had seen. Jesus will show up on our journey, too, and we’ll likely feel him the clearest when we are doing as he taught... caring for the stranger. Feeding the hungry. Offering shelter to those in need of safety. May we recognize the Risen Christ in these moments. And, may you share with others what you have seen.

Resources consulted while writing this sermon:
Pulpit Fiction podcast: https://www.pulpitfiction.com/notes/easter3a
Sarah Henrich: https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=933
Robert Hoch: https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=3234
Marilyn Salman: https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=1671