#First UMC Schenectady

[firstumcschenectady]

“Context is Everything” based on Psalm 118:1-2, 19-29, Luke 19:28-40

I grew up understanding Palm Sunday to be a “yay Jesus” parade, and with a vague sense of confusion about how the “yay Jesus” on Sunday became the “crucify him” by Friday. Luckily, I came across “The Last Week” by Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan and they taught me about a whole lot of things I was missing.

The most important thing I was missing in understanding Palm Sunday was CONTEXT. First of all, Passover. This year Passover started last night, and it is really good when the Jewish calendar and the (adapted) Christian Calendar line up because our stories from this week are all connected to Passover.

Passover is the Jewish celebration of God freeing the people from oppression and leading them into freedom and self-governance under a system of justice and equity. Specifically it is the freedom from the oppression in Egypt, but it turns out that that specificity is and is not important.

In the time of Jesus, Galilee and Judea were under the control of the Roman Empire. And while the Roman Empire would have stated things quite differently, emphasizing how great the Roman Empire was for all the people in it (uh huh…), the people disagreed. They noticed how the tax rates impoverished the poor to enrich the elite. They noticed how the military that “kept the peace” did so by silencing people’s basic concerns. They noticed that more and more people were dying of starvation. They noticed that their religion was being used to support the Empire, when clearly the God they knew wasn’t in favor of all the ways that justice and equity were being ripped away from the people.

And, despite all of the propaganda to the contrary, the Roman Empire knew all this too. Which is why when the major Jewish holiday of “The Passover” came up every year, and massive numbers of Jewish pilgrims gathered in Jerusalem to celebrate God’s acts of liberation for God’s people, the Empire got antsy.

Like authoritarian regimes do when the people gather, particularly when the people gather together to celebrate FREEDOM.

Anyway, it was the Empire’s tradition that the Roman Authorities of the Day would gather in Jerusalem during Passover as well, along with some extra military power, to discourage people from getting any ideas about their God’s capacity to overthrow THIS oppressor.

Furthermore, the normal seat of power in the area was on the Mediterranean Sea, so coming to Jerusalem required moving. And if you are going to move the authorities, and the military, into the city where you want people to remember you still hold the power, you might as well do the moving as a big happy parade, right?

This is the second supper important piece of context. Before the Passover, every year, there would be a massive parade coming in from the West. Pilate, the Roman appointed Governor of the province of Judea had an Imperial Procession to accompany him – soldiers on gleaming horses, drumlins in union, glittering silver and gold on crests, golden eagles (the symbol of Rome) mounted on pole. The people who came to watch would have shouted the things they were taught to shout, “Hail Caesar, son of God; Praise be to the Savior who brought the Roman Peace; Caesar is Lord.”

Thus, even the entrance into the city emphasized the power and authority of Pilate and Caesar and served to discourage the people from getting TOO excited about Passover and its basic meaning.

And this happened every year. People knew it happened every year. People knew that the authorities were big on shows of power, and the authorities counted on the shows of power to discourage the people and encourage compliance with authority.

Jesus knew this too.

I am pretty sure Jesus also knew that creating a mockery of the Parade of Roman Authority would not endear him to the Roman Authorities.

But it would diminish the power of the parade to intimidate, it would give voice to the needs of the people, it would remind the people that the God of the Passover was still with them.

And Jesus that breaking up the illusions of the Empire for the sake of reminding people of the power of God was worth it.

So he staged a counter-parade, one to come in from the East instead of the West.

His had no military to threaten the people with violence, instead it had cloaks on the road showing people’s profound, unforced trust in Jesus.

His had no gleaming trained horses, just an untried colt, according to the other gospels a young donkey. Now, make no mistake, this wasn’t just a contrast with the Western Parade. It also fulfilled an expectation about the Messiah. Zechariah 9:9 says:

Rejoice greatly, O daughter Zion!    Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem! Lo, your king comes to you;    triumphant and victorious is he, humble and riding on a donkey,    on a colt, the foal of a donkey.

So, in riding on that colt, Jesus was reminding the people of what a King was supposed to look like to the Jewish people, and what the Roman Empire was NOT offering them afterall.

In response, instead of those golden eagle banners on display coming in from the West, the people waved Palm Branches, both easily accessible and historically a symbol of Ancient Israel.

And then, finally, whereas the shouts coming in from the West exulted Caesar, the ones coming in from the East exulted God and God’s servant, “"Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!"

Once you see this, you can’t unsee it. Also, once you see it, you get a better sense of why the Roman Authorities saw Jesus as a threat to their power, right? Palm Sunday is no where near as far from Good Friday as I thought it was as a child.

Now, at the end of Luke’s version of this Palm Sunday story, we hear, “Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, "Teacher, order your disciples to stop." He answered, "I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out."

I want to remind us all that in Luke, the Pharisees were Jesus-friendly. They were making a practical and pragmatic suggestion that may well have functioned to save Jesus’ life if it was followed. They were reading the situation correctly. They wanted to help.

Jesus replies that the momentum has taken over and can’t be stopped, and we can note he also decided not to try.

I want to offer one more piece of context into this story, in this case into the whole story of Holy Week, and this one instead of coming from the scholarship of Borg and Crossan comes from the wisdom of our Disciple Bible Study group. Our texts all suggest that the Jewish authorities of the day were a part of the arrest and condemnation of Jesus. Only the Roman Empire could crucify a person, so we know that the Roman Empire killed Jesus, but all of our scriptures say they acted with the Jewish authorities.

The most important piece of context around this information is that the Jewish authorities of the day were PUT IN PLACE BY ROME to SERVE ROME and were REPLACED when they were insufficiently loyal to ROME. So it is really, really, really, REALLY important to distinguish between Jewish “authorities authorized by Rome” and “the Jews.” The failure to make that distinction has been deadly for our Jewish siblings in faith.

But I think, based on our conversations at Disciple, that it is possible to take this even a step further. In 70 CE a revolt against the Roman Empire emerged in Jerusalem and the response from the Roman Empire was a massacre and destruction of Jerusalem in a way that still has impact to this day.

I think it is possible that the Jewish authorities who were authorized by Rome and judged on their loyalty to Rome were still, in fact, trying to do their best by their own people and protect them as much as they could. Those leaders saw clearly what would happen if a revolt or revolution got out of control, and they didn’t want to see their people massacred.

Which is to say, it is possible to look at the position of the High Priest and his family, and others who were complicit in being loyal to Rome and probably condemning Jesus and, well, seeing why they did it. And that their intention was to protect their people.

Isn’t that a bit uncomfortable? Furthermore, the sect of Judaism that was in power during the life of Jesus was the Sadducees, but that tends to get misconstrued in the gospels because the Sadducees were so completely wiped out when Rome destroyed Jerusalem that the writers of the Gospels seem to have forgotten about them.

Jesus, clearly, had decided that it was time to defy the authorities, empower the people, and remind everyone of the wonders of God. Other people thought that was too dangerous, and it was going to get them all killed.

Because in systems of oppression no decision is easy or clear, and lots of decisions are between bad and worse, and they were operating in a system of oppression.

Which, beloveds of God, is a very good set up for Easter. Because in the end the authorities of the day can threaten violence, can threaten death, and are far too often capable of inflicting both. But on Easter we remember that not even death can stop the work of God in the world.

But, that’s for next week.

For this week, I think, our primary task is to dream a little bit about what kinds of protests, what actions of disobedience, what teaching and empowering of the people TODAY would count as following in the footsteps of Jesus as he entered Jerusalem. It is more than a little terrifying, and I have a lot of compassion for those Sadducee leaders, but I’m a follower of Jesus and that includes following his lead in protesting systems of oppression and reminding people that God cannot be stopped.

So, what forms of protest and disobedience is God calling you to?

May we listen well. Amen

April 13, 2025

Rev. Sara E. Baron  First United Methodist Church of Schenectady  603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305  Pronouns: she/her/hers  http://fumcschenectady.org/  https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

[binkas]

                           Meditations on Scripture While We Are Apart

                                               A Lectionary Blog 

Dearly Beloved,

I share this meditation as I pray for the world, and for you, dear reader, that all might have peace and hope in this time of pandemic.

Pastor Robin Ressler

The Gospel reading for Sunday is the story of Jesus raising his friend Lazarus from the dead. You can read it here:John 11:1-45

(FYI, Mosaic is the name of the cooperative ministry of United Methodist Churches in northern Schoharie and Schenectady Counties, of which Barnerville UMC is a member.)

                                 Jesus and his Friend and His Church

I have been asked by my clergy colleagues in Mosaic to preach on this text as part of our collaborative, online worship service this Sunday, so I’ve been thinking about this story.

Here’s a question I encountered as began to prepare to preach:

Why did Jesus wait two days after hearing that his friend Lazarus was dead before he went to see Martha and Mary, the sisters of Lazarus? 

My first thought was that, of course, Jesus waited so that everyone would know that Lazarus was good and dead and his body had already begun to decompose, so that those who witnessed the event would know that Jesus was not simply (!) healing Lazarus, but actually bringing him back from death to life.

 I don’t think, however, that  this is the type of answer the questioner was seeking. She went on to say that she couldn’t understand why Jesus would allow his friends Martha and Mary to suffer so long, when he had the ability to turn their mourning into dancing (Psalm 30:11), which, of course, he eventually did.

Today, her question becomes, Why are we suffering from this awful pandemic, and, perhaps more specifically, why are we, who are not ill, suffering confinement? Why are we suffering in ways that range from inconvenience to economic insecurity, boredom and loneliness, to severe emotional pain and worse?

Last week I had the difficult task of telling the people of Barnerville United Methodist Church that it was time for us to close our church for a while. I say difficult, because the folks of this parish love their church and are extraordinarily faithful in attending Sunday worship. I felt like I was taking from them their most cherished possession. I felt like an old meanie, and I didn’t like it.

However, my congregation consists of mature Christians. People were sad, but they also reassured me that this was the right thing to do.

Even more wonderful than this reassurance, they told me that closing the church didn’t mean we would stop being the church. They told me that they -- and we -- would be all right.

Jesus told his disciples that Lazarus did not have the type of illness that led to death, but to the Glory of God. Can we believe this of the current pandemic? Is this an outrageous thing to suggest?

From my crooked little farmhouse in Mineral Springs, I hear stories of massive change in the lives of people near and far, and the stories are far and away not all bad. People are reaching out to others, using whatever resources they have to help. Sometimes this means donating money. Sometimes it means spending time on the phone with a lonely person, or simply spending more time with their family. Or sewing face masks, donating food, or writing a song, or ____________ (you fill in the blank -- hopefully, you are seeing, hearing, and participating in these stories).

These are stories of healing. We Christians can understand them as stories of the Holy Spirit working through us.

During this time of pandemic, I have been blessed to be part of a church whose members and leaders are using their time, their energy, and their talents to birth a new way of being church.

We have done this not only by reaching out, but also by reaching in: by prayer and meditation, by reading and contemplating scripture, in song and in silence spending time beseeching, listening to, and praising God.

This is a story about healing, too.

For us who are the pastors of rural congregations -- a job that has, over the years of the church’s presence here, made lone rangers of many of us -- the pandemic has brought us closer together. It has instilled in us a strong spirit of community, and a visceral sense of membership in the body of Christ. I would even say that, despite the stress, despite the limitations of our current situation, we Mosaic pastors have been having some fun as we innovate worship together. 

It is my hope and prayer that out of this pandemic the church will emerge stronger, more vital -- more truly alive and Christ-centered than it has been in recent years. It is my faith that it will.

Listen, I do not believe for one moment that God caused this pandemic. What I do believe is that God is in, with, and among us as we walk through these dark days together. I believe that God is weeping with us over the pain and suffering of our fellow human beings.

At the same time, from my perspective as a rural pastor in one, tiny corner of a worldwide pandemic, I do see this: I see a church that many feared was dead coming back to life. I hear the voice of Jesus saying, “This present situation does not lead to the death of the church, but through it the Glory of God may be shown.”

Jesus left his disciples with marching orders to heal, to baptize, and to proclaim the Gospel.

As a friend of ours said, “Go and do likewise.”

Amen.

                                                                                                      A Prayer 

                        ( adapted from the 1928 Book of Common Prayer)

             Everliving God: We pray you inspire our witness to Jesus Christ

               that all may know the power of his forgiveness and the hope

                 of his resurrection; who lives and reigns with you and the                         Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

[firstumcschenectady]

“It. Is. Well.” based on Deuteronomy 26:1-11 and Luke 4:-13

If I rewrote the temptation of Jesus story for today, it could sound a little different:

The tempter said to Jesus, “If you are the son of God, scan social media for updates about your friends and ignore all rabbit holes and clickbait.” Jesus answered, “Sow for yourselves righteousness; reap steadfast love… so, no.” (Hosea 10:12a)

The tempter said to Jesus, “Here is the world on a piece of paper, it is called the newspaper. Read this and tell me again that God is good.” Jesus answered, “God’s steadfast love endures forever, and God’s faithfulness for all generations - and that truth is deeper than any news.”

The tempter said to Jesus, “Here is a way to protect yourself, to get yourself out of the messes all around you.” And Jesus said, like Jesus liked to say, “Whatever you do to the least of these you do to me.”

That is, I think that a significant temptation facing us today is the temptation to become overwhelmed, to slide into despair, or to become self-protective. As many have pointed out, that temptation has been handed to us on a golden platter by those who believe that having us overwhelmed and mired in despair means we will be more compliant, but even knowing that, it is hard to stay centered.

And, I want to make space to say, I don’t think any of us can stay centered all the time and we all have different vulnerabilities, different access to resources, and different levels of tolerance, and with GOOD REASON some of us can’t find our centers very much at all. Or ever. Which isn’t any sort of personal failing, it is just that being attacked is dis-regulating.

Some of you are already familiar with the story behind the hymn “It Is Well with My Soul,” but as I think it is otherwise an odd choice of chorus for our gathering hymn for Lent, I want to tell the story again. Horatio Spafford’s life was a bit like Job’s. (Grimace) Spafford had 5 children and a lot of wealth. One of his children died, and then much of the wealth went up in smoke in the Great Chicago Fire of 1871. Two years later the family traveled to England but Horatio sent his wife and remaining children ahead of him while he finished some work. Their ship sank and all of his children died. His wife was saved. When he followed, and his ship traveled over the waters where his children died, he stood on deck and watched. And it is said that the song came to him then and there.

Now, I fear that the story can be a little bit too poignant, and someone could take from it that grief and loss are to be ignored or dismissed, and a person of sufficient faith can face any disaster with poise and grace. I don’t mean ANY of that. I think that any grief comes in waves, and sometimes one finds a grace-filled peace and sometimes one finds the depths of despair. And I don’t think being a person of faith insulates anyone from disaster or being deeply impacted by it.

I do think though, that somewhere within us is a piece of our being that is connected directly to the Divine – some people call it soul – and nothing in the world can damage our souls. Our bodies can be harmed, our minds can be harmed, sometimes even our so called “spirits” can be broken, but nothing in the world can damage our souls. And we all have them.

One of the reasons to engage in Contemplative Prayer is to allow the soul – who knows God intimately – the space to offer guidance to our beings as a whole. Another is to find that “peace like a river” that our souls know but usually our whole beings can’t access.

The Quakers have done a lot of work in thinking about and learning about souls in this sort of definition. One of the things they teach is that souls are SHY. They get compared to wild animals, who spook easily, trust hesitantly, and need a lot of space. Some of the continued education time I’ve engaged with while here at First UMC Schenectady has been devoted to “soul-work,” led by the Center for Courage and Renewal which was founded on the teachings of Quaker Parker Palmer.

Courage and Renewal engages in practices to let our soul-wisdom out. Their retreats include a lot of silence, time for journaling and art, and the use of “third things.” Third things are some sort of art – music or poetry or paintings, etc – that are used as a vehicle for reflection and as an indirect way to seek soul wisdom. People have a chance to notice aspects of the art, notice the feelings they have in response to the art, and wonder a bit about the connection. A practice like this is part of our offering on Wednesdays in Lent, a space with lots of silence, some intentional questions, and plenty of spaciousness. Those shy souls might feel safe enough to peak out!

The wonder of the work I’ve done with Courage and Renewal has been in learning that when one soul peaks out, other souls get really curious and are more likely to do their own peaking out as well. The wisdom of one soul is never exactly like the wisdom of another soul, but nevertheless they recognize that type of wisdom and their “ears” perk right up.

In an ideal world, this sort of wonder would happen every week in worship too, and I think to some degree it does. But worship doesn’t have quiet enough silence, or patience, for it to happen a lot. Nevertheless, grace appears because God is like that, and sometimes we’re really able to share our deepest truths and be heard by others deepest listening.

Dear ones, the point I’m trying to make may be a little obscure this time, so let me attempt to be clearer. Deep within you there is an unbreakable connection to the Divine. You may have other language for it, today I’m calling it soul. While the upheavals of the world can do profound damage to you, they can’t hurt your soul. Your soul might hide more deeply within you, or be more shy about sharing its wisdom, but it can’t be hurt! It can’t be hurt by distressing decisions or outrageous news or even by direct harm to you.

Because God’s own self is a part of you, and God is bigger and stronger and more loving than anything in the world could ever stop.

Which is why, in the middle of Lent, in a time when it feels like our society and the world are rolling backward, I think it is really important to sing, “It is well, it is well, with my soul.” I also think it is a great time to engage in contemplative prayer practices that help us connect with the Divine, with our own souls, and with peace.

All of which helps us feel the truth of “it is well, it is well, with my soul.” Because the wonderful thing is, it always is, always, no matter what. Thanks be to God. Amen

March 9, 2025

Rev. Sara E. Baron  First United Methodist Church of Schenectady  603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305  Pronouns: she/her/hers  http://fumcschenectady.org/  https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

[firstumcschenectady]

"Be on Guard" based on Jeremiah 33:14-16 and Luke 21:25-36

As a general rule, I really hate Advent texts. I hate them because they're apocalyptic and messy and scary and generally reflect a future I hope we don't have.

When I reflected on this with Worship Committee last month, they looked at me knowingly and pointed out that perhaps that's exactly why we need the Lectionary Advent texts right now. Because 1. we need some connection to our traditions and 2. it feels really real right now.

Which, since you just heard the utter wonder of the Luke 21 text, you can tell I was convinced by those ideas. However, I'm particularly lucky that the Sunday Night Bible Study also just finished reading the book of Daniel and I'm way more aware of the genre of apocalyptic literature in the Bible than I normally am.

I do not, for the record, recommend reading the book of Daniel outside of the context of a Bible Study or without some truly excellent commentaries. However, I had the benefit of reading it with excellent commentaries and insightful fellow readers.

The thing about Daniel, and the book of Revelation, and I think this passage in Luke is: they're written as resistance literature. They can't be direct and make the point, “The person who has all the power an is oppressing us with it is not doing God's will,” because if they say that then anyone who has access to the document will be killed. #OpressiveRegimes So, they put things in different times. Daniel pretends to be from the past, Revelation pretends to be in the future. Then they speak about the abuses of power they see now, and do it in a way that it clear that God is still God and the horrors of this time will come to an end.

They are powerful tools of encouragement, of hope, and of resistance.

But, in order to obscure their points so people don't die, they're also a little bit hard to decipher.

I'm not really sure what Luke is trying to get to in today's passage. (The Jesus seminar is pretty clear this is all Luke's writing, not reflective directly of Jesus.) What we do know is that the early Christian communities experienced fairly extreme circumstances, and often needed encouragement and resistance literature. It seems that it could be common enough to feel like things were so bad that “people would faint from fear”. But Luke assures the people that things getting bad are just a sign they're going to get better soon. Because the people needed to be encouraged.

So, beloveds, as people who also might need some encouragement, the part of the passage that encouraged me this week was one little line, “Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life.” Oh, I needed that reminder. Be on guard that your heart is not weighed down.

Sweet Jesus, thank you. (Or, rather, thanks Luke.)

Now, Jeremiah goes at this from a different perspective. Which is interesting because Jeremiah is known for being a significant downer as a prophet. But chapter 33 is one of Jeremiah's “good cop” chapters and Jeremiah encourages the people that the end has not come and good times are going to come again.

Now, I have to admit something to you. I rebel against the word “righteousness.” I don't think my objections are particularly fair. It is a good word. It means living well, living “rightly,” living in right relationship with God and neighbors. And yet, somehow, when I come across it, I connect it with purity culture and judgmental-ism and people judging whether or not one is righteous and it just ruins the whole thing for me. (I believe others struggle with Justice for similar reasons, and oddly enough I like that one.)

So, I thesaurus-ed “righteous” and the simplest substitute for it is “goodness” which I can handle. With that, we get a passage from Jeremiah that says:

The days are coming, God says, when I'm going to fulfill my promises.

In those days David's line will continue,

and the leader in the line of David will bring goodness and fairness to everyone.

The people will be safe and well.

Things will be so good that other nations will call my people by the name,

“God is our goodness.”

I like it. Sounds to me like yet another description of that beloved community or kindom of God we're co-creating with God. God reminds us, even in dark times, not to give up hope.

And Luke reminds us to be on guard so our hearts aren't weighed down.

Which leads me to invite us to think about both what weighs down our hearts, and what lifts those weights.

I can share that my weights are lifted by:

remembering all the organizations and people working for goodness

jokes and memes that hit at the crux of things with humor

feeling heard

being able to truly hear another person's heart

singing together

fiction and fictional portrayals that give me a break from the problems of this time

telling God exactly what I'm feeling and why

giving God time to respond (I may use this less than I wish)

helping others

baking

and as I was reminded in today's Advent Devotional – a snack and a nap!

It's my list, I don't know if yours has baking on it or not ;) But, if you are willing, would you work on making your list? What lifts the weights when your heart is heavy?

And, if you are willing, could you then put that list somewhere you can see it, as a reminder for when your heart needs you to guard it and lighten it's load?

Someone wise reminded me this week that it is hard to be disconcerted by reality at the same time that others are, because instead of steadying each other, people are pulling each other further off kilter. I say we work on becoming a fire break in the anxiety storm, a source of calm in the midst of it all. We guard our hearts and each other's, so we can be steady when others are off kilter. Are you with me?

I hope so. Thanks be to God for the opportunity to lift some weights from our hearts, so we have capacity to help others when their weights get too heavy. Amen

December 1, 2025

Rev. Sara E. Baron  First United Methodist Church of Schenectady  603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305  Pronouns: she/her/hers  http://fumcschenectady.org/  https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

[firstumcschenectady]

“Starting With Care” based on Genesis 2:1-3 and Matthew 6:26-34

We're going to start with the bad news: you can't control anything.

Or, at least you can't control anything important.

You can't control how long you'll live, what the quality of that living will be, what illnesses or injuries you will endure, how long your loved ones will live, if or when traumatic events will occur, nor how they'll be responded to.

I was recently a part of a conversation about suffering led by a medical professional who – rather appropriately I thought – was worried about the fact that patients sometimes assume their suffering is God's punishment. I agreed with him that this is just not TRUE, and it is awful to think that you are both in pain and that you deserve it. But, I am also aware that if pain and suffering aren't a punishment from God, another option is that life is a crapshoot and there isn't any meaning to be found in it – and for a whole lot of people that's MORE uncomfortable than thinking God wills it. Because if God's punishing them, or teaching them a lesson, then the suffering AT LEAST means something and maybe even has redemptive value. But if it was just a random thing, and it could have happened to anyone and just happened to happen to them – well, for a lot of people that's WORSE.

Because then it is entirely out of their control. If God is punishing them, then IF ONLY they'd acted differently, then they could have prevented this from happening.

Right? It is an awful theology, but the human desire to pretend we have control is really quite powerful.

And, let's be honest, we can't control things but we can …. impact probabilities, right? Cancer is MORE likely if you smoke, if you don't exercise, if you don't eat well. Even better, you aren't likely to get hurt falling off a rock wall if you don't attempt to climb a rock wall. Right?

That said, once I broke a toe because a container of chili fell out of my freezer and landed on it. No rockwalls involved. Another time I sprained an ankle horribly – at the ski mountain – on the INDOOR stairs when I was grabbing lunch. Probabilities aren't guarantees.

I find some comfort in the Matthew passage that tells us that worrying and trying to control the uncontrollable is in human nature. This one isn't a modern day problem and we don't have to blame the 24 hour news cycle, smartphones, or social media. This is a human problem. We are aware enough of the uncertainties of life to worry about what may happen.

Jesus seems to recommend not worrying about the little things – about eating and drinking and finding clothes. Which, funnily enough, were exactly things that most of his audience was worried about most of the time because he was speaking to people who often didn't enough enough food, or drink, or a change of clothes.

In the face of their daily struggle for survival, Jesus says,

“Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith?”

And I get his point. Life is vivacious, nature takes care of itself, hoarding is unnecessary, and truly no one is as beautiful as a flower. But also, I don't get his point. Because it sounds a whole lot like saying, “Sure, there is a system of oppression out there that took away your family's land and livelihood, and now you are hoping every day to get hired back to work the land so that you can afford to eat tonight, and sure you are likely to die soon of malnutrition, but don't worry about it, God will take care of you.” And, while I TRULY believe that God does want to take care of everyone... well, deaths from malnutrition HAPPEN so it seems like that “promise” isn't one that often works out.

Compassionate people don't say to starving people, “don't worry about food.”

So, what the heck is Jesus doing?

I think I did a bad job in picking this passage, particularly that I didn't look at the verses PRECEEDING these ones. Namely, “No one can serve two masters for a slave will either hate one and love the other, or be devoted to one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth.” These lines are a big deal in the Bible. For a world in which people thought being wealthy was a sign of God's favor, it really turns the tables. This passage encourages the poor while challenging the wealthy. And it is placed before the bit about the lilies of the field.

And I wonder if Jesus is at this point talking to wealthy people. The ones who DO have enough to eat, but are worried about it anyway. The ones who do have clothes, but fret that they're not enough.

And I wonder, too, if Jesus is doing one of those really deep teaching things where he is saying to the poor - if you work together you'll have enough, but when you have enough don't worry about getting more like the rich people do. Trust in each other and God, don't horde.

Furthermore, I think maybe Jesus wants those who are oppressed to look up long enough to see they system that is oppressing them, and that it isn't God's will. God made a world of abundance, PEOPLE are keeping each other from accessing it. Part of the problem of trying to survive is that you can be so pre-occupied with it that you don't notice you shouldn't have to fight that hard.

God made enough. It was true then, and it is true now, just as it is true that people died of not having enough then and people die of not having enough now. God made enough, people have distribution problems. And I think it's OK to worry about the distribution problems.

I really appreciated this week's essay from We Cry Justice. I'd like to read a little more of it to you:

God creates human partnerships. In short, God created a system whereby all material and emotional life is tended to. So if we are to be fruitful and multiply – if we are to add to creation – the systems we create must extend the provision of care.

…

Within us lies the potential to create and re-create a system that revolves around and produces care, a system where needs are met. We will need each other to do so. We will need to be in partnership, working together to be fruitful and multiply.1

We can't CONTROL anything, although we can do a lot of damage trying. We can, however, be in partnership with each other and God and seek to “extend the provision of care.” We can choose to notice that care is inherent in creation, and that God's care hasn't changed. We can remind ourselves that there is ENOUGH, and that's good. We can remember the lilies of the field – when they're useful – that creation is beautiful and awe-inspiring.

(Image of mutual care: Ellis Nurses with supporters picketing for better care for their patients, and for each other. Photo by Sara Baron)

We can remember that things aren't now as they should be, but they CAN get better, that God is working with us to make them better, that we're working together, that many people are in this together. That we want a world where no one has to worry about what they will eat or drink or wear, because the resources of the world are abundant there is enough for everyone – and in the kindom of God the resources are shared with the abundance of God.

It is a dream worth holding onto, and remembering, and seeking. We can start with care. And every little bit helps. We can't control it, but we can shape it. Thanks be to God. Amen

1Solita Alexander Riley “In the Beginning, There Was Care” in We Cry Justice (Minneapolis, 2021), p. 145.

Rev. Sara E. Baron  First United Methodist Church of Schenectady  603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305  Pronouns: she/her/hers  http://fumcschenectady.org/  https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

May 26, 2024

[firstumcschenectady]

“Hosanna” based on Psalm 118:1-4, 19-24 and Matthew 21:1-11

Within Christianity, we use “Hosanna” to express joy, and praise, and adoration. Just one little issue with that – the actual meaning of the word. Hosanna is a Hebrew word meaning “Save us, we pray!” The people around Jesus weren't shouting “Great is God” or “Jesus is good!” or “YAY, Jesus, YAY God!” Instead, they were shouting, “God, save us from our oppressor” which was clearly the Roman Empire, who – let's be honest – didn't appreciate that. “God, help us, the enemy is bigger than we can take on ourselves.” “God, we're in over our heads, help us out here!”

And, of course, they were shouting, “Save us, we pray” during a PASSOVER celebration, when Passover celebrates God's actions in saving the people from oppression in Egypt, which made the Roman Empire's representatives a “little bit” antsy.

The Roman Empire's representative Pontius Pilate was already coming to the city, like he did every year at Passover, with soldiers and fanfare meant to keep the Jewish people in check. The Roman Empire saw QUITE CLEARLY that getting a whole bunch of people together in the city to celebrate God's acts of freeing them from oppression was a tinderbox for revolt, and they sought to tamp it down with displays of power and reminders of their violent capacity. In fact, they came in from Pilate's normal abode on the Mediterranean – so from the West. With gleaming horses, and banners with the golden Eagle of Rome, with drums and the crowds shouting “Hail Caesar, son of God; Praise be to the Savior who brought the Roman Peace; Caesar is Lord….” the Empire sought to intimidate people out of revolt.

But.

Then there was Jesus. Jesus who seems to have let the crowd claim kingship of Ancient Israel on his behalf, which sometimes feels a little bit strange but is in the story nonetheless. The Palm branches were a flag of Israel- the opposite of the Golden Eagle. The donkey was expected to be ridden by the Messiah entering the city – but also is rather opposite a gleaming horse. The soldiers accompanied Pilate – while a large crowd of people impoverished by the Empire accompanied Jesus. And Instead of “Hail Caesar” the people shouted “God Save Us (from the empire).”

The Roman Empire took this Jesus parade as a significant threat.

I believe they were meant to. The protest made the violence of the Empire stand out. They crucified Jesus with the accusation “King of the Jews” above his head, as if this was the charge against him. And, after all, they shouldn't have killed the leader of a PEACEFUL revolt, only a violent one. But sometimes the authorities have a hard time telling the difference between violence and what scares them. (Still true today.)

Then, of course, Jesus did another PEACEFUL demonstration – this time managing to make visible the ways the Empire had put in place Temple leaders who were aligned with Empire and not God's people. That one many of us learned as the “Cleansing of the Temple.” John Dominic Crossan reflects on the “den of robbers” the Temple is said to be saying, “Notice, by the way, that a 'den' is not where robbers do their robbing but where they flee for safety with the spoils they have robbed elsewhere.” (God and Empire, 133.)

Jesus made clear the city of Jerusalem was where “conservative religion and imperial oppression – had become serenely complicit.” (131) And, he dies for it. Crossan says, “He did not go to get himself killed or to get himself martyred. Mark insists that Jesus knew in very specific detail what was going to happen to him – read Mark 10:33-34, for example – but that is simply Marks' way of insisting that all was accepted by both God and Jesus. Accepted, be it noted, but not willed, wanted, needed or demanded.” (131)

Beloveds, this Palm Sunday parade is one of the most brilliant acts of non-violent direct action I've ever heard of, but it is part of the story of why the Empire responded with violence. I can't hear the Palm Sunday story without knowing that it walks us to the Good Friday Crucifixion and the Holy Saturday grief and disillusion. They're all a part of this one story – that when you make clear the ways people are oppressing others, there is a fierce lash-back and the power of violence is immense. Thank God, that isn't the whole story – we get to Easter next week – but it is a real story, one that we can't dismiss.

This year, the Palm Sunday parade that walks Jesus into Jerusalem sounds terrifyingly like Nex Benedict walking into school on their last day. I can't separate out Jesus being faithful to God despite the consequences from gender-queer and non-binary people claiming their space in the world – despite the consequences. But, friends, it is sickening.

There is a story out there, one that says people are supposed to stay in tight little conformist boxes that help others make sense of the world and, heavens, the VIOLENCE that comes out when people speak up and say, “this box doesn't fit me.” And it can be such small stuff:

I'm a woman, but the box “quiet and gentle” doesn't fit me

or

I'm a man, but the box “stoic” doesn't' fit me

or

I'm a woman, but the box “looking for a man” doesn't' fit me

or

I'm a man, but the box “looking for a woman” doesn't' fit me

or

… the box “wants to have kids” doesn't fit me

or

… the box “monogamy” doesn't fit me

or

… the box “woman” doesn't fit me

or

… the box “man” doesn't fit me

or

… the box “gendered” doesn't fit me.

And, I mean, you all know this but... WHO CARES? They're all just silly little made up boxes that no one should be forced into and everyone should have the space to occupy, or adapt or not occupy as they see fit? Sure, some people want the world to be black and white without shades of gray – that everyone is cis-gendered, straight, sexual, and single raced ;) But, too bad because that's just not true.

And yet, the violence that comes when people try to force others back into the boxes they think they should live in – it reminds me of the violence of empire. There seem to be gleaming horses, loud drums, and shiny swords all over the place. And, worse, it isn't just the external violence that attacks people – the very people who are brave enough to leave their ill-fitting boxes behind end up internalizing the violence. They're courageous, they're clear, they know who they are and they won't go back to pretending to be otherwise – but that violence is so darn insidious, and it gets inside them. Those silly stories about how we're supposed to be are so poisonous. That human need for connection gets twisted around and turned against people. And the beautiful ones who are brave and unique and wonderful end up dead.

Jesus could have stayed out of Jerusalem, except he couldn't.

Nex could have pretend to have their gender assigned at birth, except they couldn't.

They couldn't. It would have been safer, easier, …. some would say wiser. But they couldn't.

Friends, as you know, the trans and queer communities around the country and world are aching for Nex and Nex's family and friends. Their death has reminded people of prior losses, of other brave and beautiful souls who also internalized the violence against them. The heartbreaks are everywhere.

This holy week, we will worship through the blessings of Jesus, the death of Jesus, the heartbreak of the disciples, and land on the wondrous reality that God's work can't be stopped by violence or death.

But how do we make sense of Nex? And the ones before them? And the ones after them? How do face the violence of the Empire today, and the ways it gets internalized?

There aren't easy asnwers.

We grieve.

And we share the aches with God.

And we name the problems with each other.

And we keep on learning how to undercut the broken narrative, and break open little boxes, and keep people safe when they leave them.

We aren't going to do it fast enough – we already haven't, but just because we can't do it immediately doesn't mean we can stop. Jesus showed us the power of violence to stop people, and the ways religion can become complicit with violence. And he paid for it, paid to teach us those lessons. But we have them! So, we know that God and love are more powerful than violence, and love is the way we respond. And we know that religion that oppresses isn't religion at all, and we shout it from the rooftops.

Hosanna.

God save us.

We pray.

Amen

Rev. Sara E. Baron First United Methodist Church of Schenectady 603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305 Pronouns: she/her/hers http://fumcschenectady.org/ https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

March 24, 2024

[firstumcschenectady]

“We Hope for What We Do Not See” based on Jonah 2 and Romans 8:18-25

Despite my enjoyment of the “Who Did” song1, I haven't preached about Jonah often. I may even have groaned when I looked at the texts for this week – even though I was the one to pick the essay from “We Cry Justice” and the accompanying recommended scriptures. I fear, though, that my avoidance of this text is unjustified.

Because, the issues I have are really quite silly. Here we go:

Whales don't eat people. Nor do large fish.

Stomachs have acid, but not a lot of air, making them uninhabitable

You know, stuff like that.

But it turns out that taking a story literally and objecting to the pragmatic details is a really great way to miss powerful symbolism and deeper meaning within a story. So dismissing this story has only had the impact of keeping me from attending to the wisdom it has.

Which I noticed when I actually read the 2nd chapter of the book of Jonah, which is rather surprising. You may recall that in the first chapter Jonah was asked to to to Nineveh and tries to run away instead, gets on a ship going in the other direction, a storm comes up, Jonah suggests that the storm is God's way of saying he isn't listening, he suggests he be thrown into the sea, the sailors try not to do so, but finally they throw him in hoping the rest of them will live, and the storm quiets and the sailors are converted.... and then the whale did swallow Jonah. Down. ;)

So, given that chapter 2 is a prayer of Jonah from inside the whale, I think there would be just cause to assume that the prayer is either a lament that God put him in this horrid situation OR a plea for help, a request for forgiveness that results in Jonah being released from said whale? Right?

But it isn't. The prayer of chapter 2 is a prayer of THANKSGIVING, whereby Jonah seems to have already concluded that the whale is a means of salvation, and is thanking God for God's gracious actions. And that's a place where I noticed that there is something useful in this story, because … well, I'm not sure I'd have gotten there.

I think that if I had a sense of God asking me to do something I vehemently didn't want to do, that resulted in my very near drowning, and then gasping for air inside an enormous beast I couldn't talk to or control, I'd have missed the memo that said enormous beast was a gift from God. Really. I mean, maybe, 3 days in, hungry, thirsty, and still wet but shockingly alive I might have figured it out, but that's even kind of doubtful.

But Jonah's prayer starts with “I called to the Lord in my distress and [God] answered me.”(NRSV 2a) So, it seems like he got it immediately. (We're working with symbolism here people, let go of any assumption of factuality and let a good story be a good story.) And, the prayer is even specific, “The waters closed over me; the deep surrounded me; weeds were wrapped around my head...yet you brought up my life from the Pit, O LORD my God.” (5,6d)

Wow. Jonah is sinking to the bottom of the sea, hopeless, and helpless, and then experiences God as lifting him up from the place of death, of bringing LIFE out of DEATH. And, I'm kinda familiar with THAT metaphor, right? But this is a different angle on it.

For me, the incongruities of life in the belly of the whale finally recede to make space for the questions of life and faith. When have we been floating down to the bottom of the sea, out of air, and out of hope? There are a lot of possible answers to that, right? And our lives are different, so our answers are different. Grief can feel like sinking to the bottom of the sea– anticipatory grief and the utter horror of waking up and realizing someone you love isn't there Depression can feel like sinking to the bottom of the sea. Job loss and financial hardship can feel like sinking to the bottom of the sea. Loss of relationship. Abuse. Illness. Injury. Car accidents. Becoming unhoused. Failing. Flailing. A lot can feel like sinking to the bottom of the sea.

And what was the thing that picked you and kept you alive when you could no longer do so for yourself? Who or what was the whale? Was a phone call from a friend who cared? The arrival of flowers? The long, hard, careful work of a therapist? An unexpected welcome? An offer you couldn't have anticipated? The life restoring work of first responded and medical professionals? Someone showing you the ropes you couldn't figure out on your own? A good Samaritan?

How long did it take you to realize that you weren't at the bottom of the sea anymore, and you could breath (if only a little bit), and there might be a hope for dry land again someday? Was it immediate? Did it take 3 days, 3 weeks, 3 years?

I wonder, if sometimes the darkness at the bottom of the sea is so scary that we block out the memory of it, but with it we then block the memory of being scooped up. Especially because being eaten by a whale does NOT immediately seem like rescue. Right!?! At the bottom of the sea, one condolence card can't really make a difference – except sometimes it can. Sometimes knowing that someone else grieves with you, or sees you, or can share a memory that gives you a new story about a person you loved – sometimes that can be the whale.

Several years ago during a stewardship campaign, I was gifted the task of asking participants in some of our ministries what our ministries meant to them. As previously mentioned, I have a problematic tendency to be overly pragmatic, and while I delight in our breakfast program, I'm aware that it offers 1 meal out of an wished for 21 for a week. However, our guests assured me that the 1 meal matters.

Similarly, at that time we had Sustain Ministry, where we gave out soap and toilet paper, feminine hygiene products, and diapers to those who needed them. (Note: other organizations now do this work – thank God – and the need we were responding to then has changed.) I asked those waiting if they'd be willing to be interviewed, and I asked them why what we did mattered. One woman said that the resources we offered made the difference for her between being able to take care of her kids on her own and being financially forced back into an abusive relationship.

I loved Sustain ministry, but I thought it just made things a little easier for people whose lives were really hard. I didn't know it was whale picking someone out of the bottom of the sea.

In the fall of 2021, after about a year and a half of ministry during a pandemic, while adjusting to being a new parent, and with a few other significant stressors in my work life, I was a hairsbreadth away from leaving ministry. Truthfully, I had been, on and off, for 2 years by that point. More so, I didn't really know it. I knew I was really tired. I knew I felt like my ministry didn't matter. I knew every day of work was a fight, and I didn't want to fight anymore. But I actually didn't know I was near the bottom of the sea in my work, until our District Superintendent looked at me and said, “what you've dealt with isn't normal, you need a break. How long do you want? I'll find coverage and money to pay for it.” She was the whale, or maybe the 8 weeks I took off were. Maybe both? Let's go with both.

Sometimes I still meet people who know that I took that break – the announcement of it was shockingly popular on YouTube- and I watch them carefully dance around asking me if I'm still a pastor, or still a pastor here, or really what I do in the world now. They're often shocked to learn I'm still in ministry and grateful for it. (That's fair, a whole lot of people have exited ministry since then.) I continue to think I have a lot to learn to be in ministry in life-giving and sustainable ways, but the way I knew I still wanted to be a pastor and YOUR pastor was that once the day-to-day pressures were relieved, I found myself dreaming of what we could do together, and missing you. I'm been in those weeds at the bottom of the sea, pastorally, but I just needed some gulps of fresh air to be able to find the dry land. I'm really thankful there was a whale. And, yet, I didn't know how important the whale was when it arrived.

Romans 8 speaks of hope particularly directly, reconsidering the struggles of people and the world as labor pains of the kindom of God being born. While I don't want to sanctify the pains or struggles of the world, it would be really great if they were productive like that. If they mattered, and made new things possible. The essay from “We Cry Justice” today talks about the pain of ecological destruction, and the power of the people to stop horrible decisions, EVEN when money is on the other side. That people, together, have power. Which is a good example of the ways that the pain of the earth can become motivation for healing the earth. It is a way that pains can be labor pains.

Romans 8 also speaks famously about hope. “Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.” None of us can see the whale coming when we're at the bottom of the sea. Nor, even, could we know it is a saving whale if we did. But hope involves knowing that God is with us, and God is creative, and there ARE whales sometimes, and we can BE whales sometimes, and no matter what happens, we know a God who brings life - again and again.

Dear ones, sometimes God sends whales when we are at the bottom of the sea. Thank God. Amen

1For the uninformed: https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/10499923/100+Singalong+Songs+for+Kids/Who+Did+%28Swallow+Jonah%29%3F

February 25, 2024

Rev. Sara E. Baron  First United Methodist Church of Schenectady  603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305  Pronouns: she/her/hers  http://fumcschenectady.org/  https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

[firstumcschenectady]

“Our Prayer” based on Psalm 71:1-6, Matthew 6:9-13

In June, after we celebrated the life of Walter Grattidge, I was walking through the sanctuary with the intention of putting my microphone away. Three people were in the sanctuary, seemingly admiring the stained glass, which was a little unusual because Dottie Gallo's cooking creations were available at that time in Fellowship Hall.

I believe I said something incredibly profound, like “I'm putting my mic away, but while I'm here, can I help you with anything?” The answer was unexpected.

The three people turned out to be a mother, a daughter, and the daughter's husband. The mother was raised in this church, and was a teenager in the 1940s when Rev. Dr. Lee Adkins Sr. was pastor here. I've heard wonderful things about the ministry of Rev. Dr. Adkins Sr., but the story she told was the best one yet:

She was a curious and thoughtful young person, and she struggled with the stories she heard in Sunday School and how she was taught to interpret them. In her frustration, she went to Rev. Adkins to ask him some pointed questions. (Already, I'm loving this story – right? She's feisty, she's good at Biblical interpretation, and she has access to the Sr. Pastor as she should.)

She named her concerns, and in response he ask her to listen to a story. His story was this:

When he was a young man he was struggling to decide what to do with his life. One day, he was hiking, and when he got to the top of a mountain, and the sky opened up before him, he saw written in the clouds “Preach,” and he knew his life's work.

He then told her to go home, think about his story, and come back in a week or two and explain it to him. She did. She thought long and hard about it. When she returned she said to him, “I do not believe that the clouds actually said 'preach.' I think you were moved by the beauty and sense of awe around you, and you found within yourself clarity on your life's work, and the best way you can communicate that is to say that the clouds spelled out 'preach.'”

Now -get this – this is my favorite part. He said, “OK, go home and think about it for another week or two and come back again.” Now, she said that she was really wanting to give the “right” answer and it was quite distressing to be sent away to try again. But she did, and when she came back said to him, “I stand by my answer.” And he smiled and said, “good.”

He affirmed her capacity to think, to interpret, to use her reason, and in doing so gave her ways to approach the Bible and the world.

She said that she was taking her family on a tour of her life, and they were in Schenectady so she could show them the church. (They live in Western Canada I think.) The following day we were having our combined Pride services, and they'd known about that and just walked by hoping to get in. Her family had left Schenectady soon after the story she told me, her father's job changed. But for her that conversation with her pastor opened up the world. She is now a great-grandmother, and she talked about being formed by that permission to be curious and reasonable, and how in her family there are now 4 generations of people who are who they are because she was given permission to THINK about her faith by her pastor.

I've been holding this story (not perfectly, sometimes it slips out because it is so good), but holding it for preaching for this day. Because when we think about Homecoming and what it means to come home to this church, I think that story has some pretty central themes about who this church has been and who this church is.

This is a place where faith and reason are welcome together. This is a place where curiosity is welcome. This is a place where people know that the Bible's truths are often shared in metaphor. This is a place that seeks to form people with permission giving, rather than limitations.

Which gets me to a second central piece of how I know you, First Schenectady United Methodist Church. Some years ago now when asking parents about what color blanket they wanted for their baby's baptism, their response was “We'd like a rainbow blanket, because we want our child to know they will be loved as whoever they are.” I completely copied them when it was my turn ;)

One of the many joys of being the pastor here has been the chance to get to know people who were raised in this church as I have worked with them to prepare the Celebrations of Life for their parents. I know of any stories of the church's children of the 20th century being wrapped in rainbow. However, as I've gotten to know those who were raised in the church, I've been astounded to find some deep similarities.

The men who were raised in this church are unusually kind, considerate, empathetic, gentle, and thoughtful. The women who were raised in this church are usually self-assured and able to be appropriately assertive. Let's be honest, those things both break gendered stereotypes, but fit the fullness of the human experience. This church raised people with the space to be the best and most authentic version of who they were, and made space and capacity to reject the norms of society that put people into boxes.

I was able to put my finger on what was so extraordinary several years ago now, and it has been really fun to see my theory confirmed over and over again since.

Dear ones, the impact of this church in the world is HUGE – even if all we count is how the people raised in this church were given the love, space, and capacity to become fully themselves. This church has been a counter-cultural force for good for a VERY LONG TIME.

This church has been doing God's work for a long time.

Thank God.

And thank you.

I have been reminded this week of how beautiful and delightful this world really is. And it is beautiful even while it is broken. The beautiful and the broken are simply both true.

As people of faith, we are given the great gift of being reflective about how we respond to the world. So much of what we do together is reflecting on what is good, what is God, and how we can respond. We have the chance to think about, and practice, centering down with God, centering down to relationships, centering down to simply enjoy the goodness of life – and then using the energy we have gathered in the centering down to seek justice for God's people. Isn't that a wonderful thing to get to do??

The Lord's Prayer is full of layers of meaning, has been examined with rich study, and there are translations of it that make my heart stir. We can't get into most of that in an even vaguely reasonable time frame, so I just want to focus today on the last line in our reading, “and do not bring us to the time of trial, but rescue us from that which is evil.” The rescue is sometimes deliverance, and deliverance is interesting in the Bible because it is the original meaning of salvation. As Dr. Gafney says, “Salvation in the Hebrew Bible is physical and material deliverance or rescue of an individual or community from enemies.”1

The rescue that we need, the deliverance that we need, changes with time, changes with the communities we live in, changes with our own needs. But the reason this prayer still resonates all these years later in all kinds of different places is that a need for rescue is a pretty common human experience.

Yolanda Norton translates that line as “separate us from the temptation of empire and deliver us into community.”2

Thank God that God HAS delivered us, into community, into THIS community, beautiful and broken as this one is, it helps us be a part of rescuing the world. Thank God. Amen

1Wilda Gafney, A Women's Lectionary for the Whole Church (New York, NY: Church Publishing, 2021), 284.

2Gafney, 285

Rev. Sara E. Baron  First United Methodist Church of Schenectady  603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305  Pronouns: she/her/hers  http://fumcschenectady.org/  https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

September 17, 2023

[firstumcschenectady]

“The Tower” based on Deuteronomy 29:10-15 John 11:28-44

Last Summer Diana Butler Bass gave a sermon at the Wild Goose Festival that was shared and forwarded to me approximately 100 times, which was good because that's how many times it took for me to read it. And once I read it, I participated in the sharing and forwarding too. Her sermon was entitled “All the Marys”1 and it shared one of the biggest breakthroughs in Biblical Scholarship in generations.

Which, I know, is THE SINGLE MOST EXCITING THING I COULD EVER SAY! Or, perhaps, maybe, it might not be?

Stick with me.

It's worth it. This is a case where a huge break through in Biblical scholarship has pretty big implications for those of us who follow Jesus. I'm well aware they aren't all like that.

What I find interesting is that I've now read her sermon several times over the course of 10 months, and I can't seem to retain it. The implications are actually so big and require such an enormous re-framing of how I understand the early Christian story, that my brain keeps erasing it in favor of the familiar.

If you have spent less time in Gospel commentaries and/or seminary than I have, I suspect you are going to find it easier to accept these very simple truths than I do. Which is great! This is really awesome stuff, and I'd love for people to hear it, know it, and even retain it.

Diana Butler Bass tells the story of Elizabeth (Libbie) Schrader who felt moved to study Mary Magdalene, landed at General Theological Seminary in New York to work on a Masters of New Testament, and wrote her final paper on John 11. Her professor encouraged her to look at the newly digitized version of the oldest known text of John, Papyrus 66, from around 200 CE, and find something new in it.

I'm going to quote Diana Butler Bass here:

And so Libbie is in the library looking at the text and she sees this first sentence. And it’s in Greek, of course. “Now a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, the village of Mary and his sister Mary.” And Libbie said, “What? That’s not what my English Bible says. My English Bible says, ‘Now a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister, Martha.’” But the Greek text, the oldest Greek text in the world doesn’t say that. The oldest Greek text in the world says, “Now a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, at the village of Mary and his sister, Mary.” There are two Marys in this verse. And Libbie went, “What the heck? What is going on here?” And she started digging into the text, zooming in on it to try to see what she could see over the digitized version in the internet. And lo and behold, Libbie noticed something that no New Testament scholar had ever noticed.

And that is, in the text where it had those two Marys, the village of Mary and his sister, Mary, and her sister, Mary, the text had actually been changed. In Greek, the word Mary, the name Mary, is basically spelled like Maria in English, M-A-R-I-A. And the I, the Greek letter I, is the letter Iota. And it looks basically like an English I. Libbie could see by doing this textual analysis that the Iota had been changed to the letter TH in Greek, Theta. That somebody at some point in time had gone in over the original handwriting and actually changed the second Mary to Martha. And not only had that person changed the second Mary to Martha, but that person had also changed the way it comes out in English. It says, “The village of Mary,” that would’ve stayed the same, “and her sister, Martha.” Someone had also changed that “his” to “her”; that “her” was originally a “his,” but they had changed it to a “her.”

Admittedly, the original text is a confused and not very good sentence. “Now, a certain man was ill, Lazarus of Bethany, at the village of Mary and his sister, Mary,” it’s almost like they’re heightening the fact that Lazarus has this sister, Mary. They lived in this village together, and Mary is Lazarus’ sister. Someone had changed it to read, “Mary and her sister, Martha.”

Libbie sat in the library with all of this, and it came thundering at her, the realization that sometime in the fourth century, someone had altered the oldest text of the Gospel of John and split the character Mary into two. Mary became Mary and Martha.

She went through the whole manuscript of John 11 and John 12, and lo and behold, that editor had gone in at every single place and changed every moment that you read Martha in English, it originally said, “Mary.” The editor changed it all.

Now, that's a pretty big deal, but I imagine that maybe you don't... umm... I think the words might be “Care that much.” But let me say, “yet.” I haven't gotten to the part where this MATTERS yet, that was a really important BACKGROUND. It also makes John 11 as we know it really hard to read and make sense of. But that's OK too.

So the underlying question in this is “why?” Why would someone go through so much trouble to create the character Martha out of what was once Mary? The key may be in the part of John 11 we read last week,

25Jesus said, “I am the resurrection, and the life: the one that believes in me, though they may die, yet shall they live; 26and the one who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?” 27She said to him, “Yes, Lord: I have believed that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one that comes into the world.

In the Bibles I have that “she” appears to be Martha but if she doesn't exist, then the she is Mary. And now we're getting to it. Christianity has long claimed that the first declaration that Jesus was the Messiah comes from Peter, the Rock, who is presented as having done so in Mark, Matthew, and Luke (the “Synoptics”) and that answer kinda worked because Martha was a pretty minor character and even though she says so in John, it is easy enough to ignore because Peter is THE ROCK, and Martha is... well, kinda a nobody.

Back to Diana Bulter Bass:

But if it is Mary, the Mary who shows up in John 11 is not an unremembered Mary... This Mary has long been suspected of being the other Mary, Mary Magdalene. Is it really true that the other Christological confession of the New Testament comes from of the voice of Mary Magdalene? That the Gospel of John gives the most important statement in the entirety of the New Testament, not to a man, but to a woman, and to a really important woman who will show up later as the first witness to the resurrection.

You see how these two stories work together. In John 11, Lazarus is raised from the dead, and who is there but Mary Magdalene? And at that resurrection, she confesses that Jesus is indeed the son of God. And then you go just 10 chapters later and who is the person at the grave? She mistakes him, at first, thinks he’s the gardener. She turns around and he says, “Mary,” and she goes, “Lord.” It’s Mary Magdalene. It is Mary Magdalene.

Oh, and now I get to place for you the final piece. Do you remember learning that Christ wasn't Jesus' last name? I do. Christ is the English version of Christos which was the Greek translation of Messiah, which literally meant “smeared” as in “smeared with oil” as in “annointed as king” because the Greek didn't have a Messiah concept like Hebrew did. So when we say Jesus Christ, we are actually saying “Jesus the Messiah.”

Well, a lot of people think Mary Magdalene was called that cause she was Mary, from Magdala. Except there was no village called Magdala. Diana Butler Bass summariezes it this way:

When we call her Magdalene, Mary Magdalene, is not Mary from Magdala. Instead, it’s a title.

The word magdala in Aramaic means tower. And so now you get the full picture. In the Synoptics, Jesus and Peter have a discussion. In that discussion, Peter utters the Christological confession. As a result of the Christological confession, Jesus says, “You are Peter the Rock.” In the gospel of John, Mary and Jesus have a conversation, and Mary utters the Christological confession. And she comes to be known as Mary the Tower.

Between these two confessions, are we looking at an argument in the early church? Peter the Rock or Mary the Tower?

But the John account was changed. The John story has been hidden from our view. All those years ago, Mary uttered those words, “Yes, Lord, I believe you are the Messiah, the son of God, the one who is coming into the world.” …

Mary is indeed the tower of faith. That our faith is the faith of that woman who would become the first person to announce the resurrection. Mary the Witness, Mary the Tower, Mary the Great, and she has been obscured from us. She has been hidden from us and she been taken away from us for nearly 2,000 years. …

Or, or perhaps and, you can leave here with a question: What if the other story of Mary hadn’t been hidden? What if Mary in John 11 hadn’t been split into two women? What if we’d known about Mary the Tower all along? What kind of Christianity would we have if the faith hadn’t only been based upon, “Peter, you are the Rock and upon this Rock I will build my church”? But what if we’d always known, “Mary, you are the Tower, and by this Tower we shall all stand?”

OK, that's it. That's my big Biblical Studies breakthrough story. Perhaps you might want to laugh with me that the big breakthrough is simply another affirmation that God loves and cares about all people, JUST LIKE THE TEXT FROM DEUTERONOMY said in a lot fewer words.

But, dear ones, what if we'd gotten both stories? And maybe the even more important question: how can we live now that we have both stories? How can we be followers of Jesus who was seen clearly by Peter and by Mary? How can we be people of faith who both follow a leader who is a rock on which we are steadied and a tower who lifts us all up? What if masculine and feminine were allowed to stand together as holy to the deepest core of our faith? What if there is a whole lot of space for both/and in our tradition!?!?

Someone actually didn't want that. Someone edited it out, and made Mary smaller. Dear ones, may we commit ourselves to the opposite. May we go out and make God, and each other, and all we meet BIGGER! Tower like, even. Amen

1 ALL THE MARYS Wild Goose Festival, Closing Sermon, July 17, 2022 by Diana Butler Bass https://dianabutlerbass.com/wp-content/uploads/All-the-Marys-Sermon.pdf

Rev. Sara E. Baron  First United Methodist Church of Schenectady  603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305  Pronouns: she/her/hers  http://fumcschenectady.org/  https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

May 21, 2023

[firstumcschenectady]

“Seeking Peace” based on 1 Corinthians 6:1-6 and Luke 6:43-45

I tend to believe the the quote from Holocaust survivor Elie Wiesel, “We must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.” This makes me quite skeptical of both-sides-ism. To be fair, the primary justice issue I've worked on in my life is justice for LGBTQIA+ people, and the difference between teenagers committing suicide because they're told they're not loved and straight cis-people feeling uncomfortable is a great example of things NOT being equal.

However, today a part of my heart is in my throat, thinking about the conflict in the Middle East, and I can't make sense out of it. There aren't easy answers in Palestine and Israel. There is pain and suffering of generations, and worldwide context, and vulnerable people everywhere. And there are clear and abundant violations of human rights and human dignities. This is a case of both/and, I think.

I have been reminded this week to hold the history of Israel in context. Of course, I thought I was doing that, and I wasn't. Modern Israel was created out of the need for a space for Jewish people to have self-determination after Christian neighbors and so-called Christian Countries proved themselves unwilling to hold Jewish life as sacred. This, of course, culminated in the Holocaust, which Elie Wiesel survived, but the Holocaust was an single extreme expression of the constant antisemitism of the world.

I wonder, from the perspective of 2023, if the choices made to create modern Israel were less supportive of Jewish life than they seemed at the time. A friend told me this week that if Israel's neighbors laid down their weapons, there would be peace, but if Israel laid down their weapons, there would be no Israel. Because the powers of the world made decisions to create modern Israel, but did so without the cooperation and consent of the other nations in that region, and without an adequate plan for the people who had already been living in Israel. How did they think this would play out? Did they care?

There isn't much space in our lives for context, and nuance, and careful conversations. There isn't space for both/and. There isn't a lot of space for acknowledging that Hamas was definitely, completely wrong in their attacks – it was barbaric terrorism AND that the blockades and attacks on Gaza are excessive and inhumane. We're told we have to pick: be for one side or the other, either forget the centuries of antisemitism that our own faith tradition created and nurtured and stand for the downtrodden Palestinians OR forget the consistency of inhumane treatment of Muslims and Christians in Palestine, and stand for the Israelite state.

For those of us who believe they're ALL God's people, ALL God's chosen, ALL God's beloveds, Israel and Palestine looks like pain and horror right now. In trying to find the balance in this sermon, I sought wisdom from others whose eyes see what I fail. They reminded me that one way to stand for Israelis and for Palestinians is to stand against Hamas, who not only brutally attacked innocents, but also did so knowing the response would kill Palestinians in large numbers. Can we stand for our Jewish siblings here, around the world, and in Israel while standing for our Palestinian siblings? I believe we can, but it takes a willingness to look deeply, to be uncomfortable, and to shy away from fast talking points.

The Mennonite Church of Canada wrote a prayer lament and intercession for Palestine and Israel and I invite you to join me in the spirit of prayer1:

God of love and justice, our hearts are perplexed, paralyzed and broken at the recent carnage in Palestine and Israel. We lament the loss of life and the suffering of so many people. We are shocked at the inhumanity of violence, terrorism, and war.

Our prayers for peace seem to go unanswered. We wish you would intervene. We cling to your promise of a different world, but we see so few signs of its fulfillment. We do not understand.

Still, we continue to believe that you desire life and peace for all people. 

Holy Spirit, strengthen our resolve to advocate for peace, justice, equality, and compassion for all.   Don’t let us turn away.

Comfort all who are overwhelmed with loss—loss of life, loss of homes, loss of safety and security. 

God of the vulnerable and the oppressed, renew the energy and creativity of those committed to nonviolent resistance and change. 

We pray for the communities in the land where our shared faith was born and nurtured. May your love remain bright among your Jewish, Christian, Muslim and people. May they recognize your hand in their lives, even amidst the suffering. We pray for your peoples around the world, wishing hope, health, safety, and abundance for all.

God of all nations, guide our own government to respond in ways that support the legitimate rights of all, especially those who are most vulnerable, those who continue to suffer after generations of occupation, dispossession, and denial of basic human rights and those who fear for their safety.

May your kindom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Yours is the kingdom, the power, the glory, now and forever. 

Amen

You may have heard in our Epistle lesson this morning, a call from Paul for good conflict resolution. And you may have heard in our Gospel lesson this morning a reminder that we are not know by our intentions, but by our fruits. Come to church, hear hard things ;)

All I can offer the Middle East right now is my heartfelt prayers, and my profound compassion. What I can offer in the here and now is a refusal to participate in violence, even in my language. I can affirm the humanity of our Jewish and Muslim siblings in faith, I can acknowledge how horrifying and terrifying this is for anyone with family or friends in Israel and Palestine. And I can hold multiple truths – that Christianity has created the conditions by which Jews are dehumanized and live in fear around the world AND – hey look at us – Christianity has done the same to Muslims and many Christians do the same to Palestinians. Here, in the US – and around the world – I want Jewish people to be SAFE, whole, and assured that we'll have their back. And I want the same for Palestinians of all faiths and for Muslims everywhere. Right? I've been thinking about what God might feel about it all. My best answer is “heartbroken.”

When the Methodist Federation for Social Action (MFSA) Board did an intense study of anti-racism, we were given a list of values in anti-racism institutions. One of them was “both/and thinking” and “moving toward collective action.” To be more direct, the training claimed that either/or thinking was a tool of oppression and both/and thinking was needed to make space for all people to be collaborative.2

I think about that a lot. I've noticed in my life that when I'm stuck between a THIS and a THAT, and I notice it, and take time to consider it, and even pray about it, that there is always an undiscovered THIRD WAY I wouldn't have found unless I considered the important parts of THIS and the important parts of THAT together, and realized why I couldn't let either one go. That God is in the both/and, and it can take me a while to find it, but it is always worth finding.

I've heard stories of those who have worked for peace though, have you ever heard them? Those who God has called to be peace-makers who have entered spaces with both sides of this conflict and found ways to let each side be actually heard? To even grieve together? The stories are always of small intentional groups, of people willing to participate, usually not of people in leadership who are most profoundly fixed in their positions (although in this conflict few people are easily moved.) But miracles have happened. People have heard each other. People have cried for each other. People have APOLOGIZED.

This work is being done RIGHT NOW. I learned this week that “one of the crucial movements in the peace space in Israel/Palestine now is the historic partnership between Women Wage Peace and Women of the Sun; the latter organization was founded in the summer of 2021, and is comprised of Palestinian women working for peace in the West Bank and Gaza. Women Wage Peace was founded after the Gaza war of 2014, is comprised of Jewish and Arab women who live inside the State of Israel, and has the two primary objectives of 1) Getting Israeli/Palestinian peace negotiations going (and to eventually achieve a "bilaterally acceptable political agreement") and 2) guaranteeing that women are part of the negotiation process.”3 4

Let's hear one story about peace, right now, huh? There is a group called the Parents’ Circle Families Forum—formerly the Bereaved Parents’ Circle. The organization is comprised of Israelis and Palestinians who have lost a family member in the ongoing violence. Their work is the slow work of trust building and creating connections.

Rabbi Danya Ruttenberg tells, and reflects on this story: On October 7th, Hersh Goldberg-Polin was kidnapped by Hamas and brought into Gaza. Shortly before the abduction, he lost his arm while protecting his friends from Hamas bullets and grenades; as far as anyone knows, he is badly wounded if he is still alive. He has not been heard from since being taken.

Last week, his mother, Rachel, wrote:

Time is slowly ticking into the future, with these hostages approaching a week in captivity. If he is still alive, how much longer can he survive? His wounds are grievous. I hope someone somewhere is being kind to him, caring for him, attending to him.

Hersh is my whole world, and this evil is the flood that is destroying it. I really don’t know if anything can save it. If anyone knows, please tell me. To save a life, our sages taught, is to save a world. Please help me save my son; it will save my world.

Every single person in Gaza has a mother, or had a mother at some point.

And I would say this, then, as mother to other mothers: If you see Hersh, please help him. I think about it a lot. I really think I would help your son, if he was in front of me, injured, near me.

And that’s the whole of it. “I would help your son.” Your daughter. Your child. Your beloved. Yours.

I understand that yours matters infinite worlds to you, because mine does, to me, and I hope that you see that, too.

I can see the infinity in yours, in fact, if I’m willing to look.1

What incredibly holy work is being done in seeing each other as beloveds. The article that shared that story, framed it in the lens of the holy work of mothering/parenting – and in seeing all the world's children as “yours”. Dear ones, I think that's where the pain comes from when we see brokenness in the world. Because we know all children – all people – to be God's children, in need of good care, and worthy of good and abundant life.

So we seek peace. We seek peace through love by loving all people. This maybe doesn't seem radical enough, or new enough. Maybe it isn't new, but the world has proven to us time and time again, it is radical enough. Let's work on it until we get it right. Then we can try to pull Christianity along ;)

Amen

1https://www.mennonitechurch.ca/article/16090-prayer-of-lament-and-intercession-for-palestine-and-israel, accessed 10/19/2023 Edited.

2Work of Crossroads Antiracism Organizing and Training. I attended in 2017.

3https://lifeisasacredtext.substack.com/p/a-peacemaking-lens?fbclid=IwAR1y50dbv2q-VxQQ_o1elI_-5UNYuOAEoMIMsEe9Tcg0gGNzHe44TvOKmMA

4The thoughts and concerns of Alice Gomstyn and Elliot Olshansky are peppered throughout this sermon, and I thank them for not letting me bumble along like an idiot, even when it is my job to be informed and not their job to inform me. I'll also note that while they helped me, they can't fix me ;) so mistakes remain my own.

1https://lifeisasacredtext.substack.com/p/a-peacemaking-lens?fbclid=IwAR1y50dbv2q-VxQQ_o1elI_-5UNYuOAEoMIMsEe9Tcg0gGNzHe44TvOKmMA

Rev. Sara E. Baron  First United Methodist Church of Schenectady  603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305  Pronouns: she/her/hers  http://fumcschenectady.org/  https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

October 22, 2023

[firstumcschenectady]

“All Are Welcome” based on Hosea 11:1-4 and Matthew 28:16-20

Sometimes I get distracted. Not just the normal distracted of turning to my phone when it buzzes or letting the internet take me down rabbit holes (although those happen too.) Sometimes I get so distracted talking about what kind of Christian I am NOT that I forget to talk about what kind of Christian I am.

In fact, that's so true that I'm squirmy already, as the word Christian is overly affiliated in my head with things I struggle with. One of you once said that “Jesus follower” worked better for you than Christian for just that reason. And I love that. But also, “Christian” means “little Christ” and I do think the whole point is to continue the work of Christ in the world and it is probably worth the discomfort involved in claiming it anyway.

A friend and colleague, the Rev. Andrew Nelson, recently dropped a book off for me. Which is a great way to share love, particularly when this was a book I'd been looking for and not finding for years! I didn't know EXACTLY which book on Celtic Christianity I wanted, but I knew I needed to find one. This one, turns out to be it: Sacred Earth, Sacred Soul by John Phillip Newell.

As I started to read I felt my whole being relax. Here, encased in centuries of tradition, is the faith that I know to the core of my being. When so much of my life in the church-at-large has been defined by being an outlier, a prophet, a person crying for justice for God's beloveds, it is awfully nice to hear that my faith has deep roots too. I think, perhaps, it is nice to hear that I belong too. That the faith that says “God created all, and it is good” is VALID, and REAL, and DEEPLY faithful – and not... some radical new idea.

I want to share with you some of what I heard in Sacred Earth, Sacred Soul, in hopes that it will also help drop down your shoulders, and let in a big deep breath. That we all can celebrate the God who is. The one who we know to be loving, ALONG WITH our great tradition. That we can acknowledge that we are faithful people with a faithful God.

(See, isn't it nice?)

The first chapter of the book tells the story of Pelagius (Puh·la·jee·uhs) , a Welsh monk who lived around 360-430 CE. But, it starts by sharing the beliefs of the first known Christian teacher in the Celtic territory – the one whose teachings would have formed what Pelagius knew. That teacher was Ireneaus (Ee·ruh·nay·uhs ) of Lyons and his teachings were that: sacredness was not opposed to naturalness, that there is holy in naturalness, that heaven found in things of earth, that the divine is to be cherished within earthliness of human life and RELATIONSHIPS, that Jesus was ROBUSTLY human, and that the universe is born out of the substance of God – NOT out of nothing.1 Taken to its natural conclusions, those beliefs say “the stuff of the body of earth is sacred stuff. Therefore, how the body of another is handled in relationship, how the physical needs of those who are hungry and homeless is responded to, how the body of the earth and its resources are treated- these are all holy matters.”2

Well, YEAH! And if bodies are holy, then they shouldn't be exploited, but rather honored and cared for. (CORRECT.)

In fact, this ended up being opposition to the way that the majority of Christianity under the leadership of the pope in Rome understood things. Because there is a doctrine called creation ex nihilo which says that creation was “out of nothing” and if that's true than STUFF doesn't matter and people can exploit it all they want. The implications of this in the world around us are abundant, but it is VERY nice to know this has NEVER been fully accepted in our tradition, I think.

The teacher Iraneaus taught that Jesus was the one who was “respeaking the sacred essences of the universe, re-sounding the divine that is in the heart of all things. This was to see Christ as reawakening in humanity what it has forgotten.”3 So not Jesus saving the world, nor Jesus standing against the world, but Jesus reminding the world of its sacredness and the things it already knows. I love it!

Now into the wisdom tradition that Iraneaus formed, came the monk Pelagius, who taught that “grace was given to reconnect us with our nature, which was sacred and made of God.” I believe that, and I like knowing how long that has been known! Pelagius ended up in Rome, which seems to have become a problem for his life, because rather than being with people who knew the sacredness of all, he was with people who knew the Church as a power-player in politics. (Ew.) And they took issue with him because he thought women were wise and worth both learning from and teaching. He also emphasized human sacredness instead of human sinfulness. He believed that “what is deepest in us is of of God and not opposed to God.”4 I just love it when people put WORDS to the things my very being knows to be true, but I hadn't ever quite known I needed to say.

Now Augustine, who I did have to read in college and seminary, was all out of sorts about this and spent a lot of energy discrediting Pelagius, because he wanted to focus on original sin. (Facepalm.) That original sin doctrine was useful for the empire, and has been useful for the church, but I would say has not be useful for God's people.

So, Augustine got Pelagius banned from the Empire, him and his teachings. Because apparently it is really upsetting to an empire if everyone is sacred, and then everyone maters. Then they're not there to be controlled and used, but rather to be revered and related to.5 (Actually, I knew that. Jesus taught me.) Worse than the other stuff, Pelagius also taught that people who had more than enough should... wait for it... SHARE with those who don't have enough. Once again, that's easy to see as following Jesus, but it got him excommunicated. (Shoot, I already facepalmed.)

Anyway, Pelagius went home to Wales and kept teaching, and wrote under pseudonyms so people could read it and – I love this – often used “Augustine” as one of them. That teaching also included “that it is not so much what you believe about Jesus that matters. The important thing is becoming like Jesus, becoming compassionate. A Christ-one, he said, is one 'who shows compassion to all... who feels another's pain as if it were his one, and how is moved to tears by the tears of another.” That sounds like us, doesn't it!?!6

Well, funny enough, the teachings of Pelagius weren't stopped by being banned by the Roman Empire, or excommunicated by the Western church, or even sent back home. I knew that, because I was taught them as a child, and have experienced them as an adult. I just didn't know their history.

When we get invited by Jesus to “go and make of all disciples” I don't think we're told to go into the world and tell people they are WRONG if they don't follow Jesus. Instead, I think we're invited to be in relationship with people and learn from their wisdom and share ours – including the stuff that Jesus respeaking and re-sounding – the wisdom we know in our souls and simply need to be reminded of. The stuff like “all of creation is sacred” and “all people are to be honored” and “the way of God isn't the way of control over.”

When I think about what beliefs I center my life on, I usually use the word “inclusion.” But I think I get to inclusion BY believing that all people are sacred, and beloved by God, and THEREFORE all people welcome in the church. I get all sorts of upset about exclusion, BECAUSE it implies a limit to the sacredness of God. And that's both wrong, and silly.

God is like the one who picks an infant up and smooshes them to their cheek. God is like that with all of us. ALL of us. Thanks be to God! Amen

1John Phillip Newell Sacred Earth, Sacred Soul (HarperOne, 2021), p. 24-26.

2Newell, 26.

3Newell, 26.

4Newell, 32.

5Newell, 40.

6Newell, 39.

Rev. Sara E. Baron  First United Methodist Church of Schenectady  603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305  Pronouns: she/her/hers  http://fumcschenectady.org/  https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

June 4, 2023

[firstumcschenectady]

“The Things We Fear, and the Things We Want” based on Deuteronomy 28:58-68 and John 11:17-27

I'm not particularly great at monitoring the secular calendar, so before I preach this sermon, I need to admit that I completely forgot today was Mothers' day.  This is only relevant because I'm talking about parenting, which is something I'd have sought to avoid if I remembered.  But I didn't.  So here we are.

I'm intimidated by Mommy-blogs, online parent groups, and even parenting book.  So I don't read them.  I guess in part I think of them as being like the Book of Discipline – the second you open it to figure something out you find you are out of compliance and then you have to decide if you want to A. Exert an exceptional amount of energy coming into compliance or B. Maintain the status quo while feeling guilty for knowingly doing it wrong.  That said, I don't think parenting quite has rules like the Book of Discipline so may it is more than I'm well aware of how judgmental people are of parents, and I'm just terrified of entering a space where I'll be judged like that.

(It occurs to me this is a powerful motivator for why people stay away from church too.  Scary parallels.)

All of that is to say, I want to talk a little bit about parenting, but I don't know any of the official words and I'm far to scared to go down the rabbit hole of the internet to find them.  So, here are words that no one has agreed upon, but I think are right.  I aim to be a “feelings and needs parent.”  By which I mean I seek to provide a lot of names for feelings, because I think talking about feelings helps everything, and having good names helps in talking about feelings.  Things like, for example, “I have dread when I think about online parent groups.”  The other part of this is needs, and for me that means that I believe that all human actions are motivated by attempting to meet basic human needs.  To go back to that example, “I have dread when I think about online parenting groups because I have needs for compassion and to experience myself as competent and I'm afraid that both will be threatened.”

I'm pretty well bought in to the value of thinking about human behavior as an expression of human need, and I'm also committed to the value of using feelings as sources of wisdom.  These are whole life commitments, and also parenting ones.  They aren't particularly easy parenting commitments though.  It means working together to figure out what is going on, and how that has impacted behavior, and what that means about what needs are seeking to be met, and how we might meet those needs together safely and without stepping on other people's needs.  And basically there aren't any shortcuts to doing that work.

The good part is that the skills I develop in parenting around feelings and needs are also ones that are useful in dealing with myself, and also in working with others in the church.  The bad part is that one can get kinda drained doing things the hard way all the time.

Alas.

Because the another option is basically what we have in Deuteronomy, where God is presented as an authoritative, punitive parent who says “do it my way, or suffer the consequences.”  And there the consequences are particularly awful. 

Whenever I read Deuteronomy I remind myself to hear it in context.  Deuteronomy was written down in the aftermath of the destruction of Jerusalem and the despair of the Exile, in an attempt to answer the questions, “Why did this happen to us and what could we have done to prevent it?”  Those writing have just experienced a huge communal trauma that threatened every part of their identity and theology, and they want to believe that it happened for a REASON.  Because that's just human.  We want to make sense of the things that happen.

As people who largely believed that everything that happened, happened because God wanted it to happen, they then believed that the destruction had been God's punishment, and to keep God in the right it thus it followed that their own misbehavior was the culprit.  So, I can hear in our passage today an underlying assumption “oh how we wish we'd been more motivated to do things God's way so this didn't' happen to us!  I wonder what would have convinced us.  Maybe these threats would have helped.”

Even so, I still cringe.  That isn't the way I parent, it isn't the way I was parented, this isn't the way I want to see power used in the church or the world, and to get to the point, it doesn't fit the way I understand God.       

And yet, the idea of God as one who punishes and rewards is quite a prevalent concept in the Bible and to take a stand against it requires acknowledging that.  I am so grateful for John Dominic Crossan for the way he named the two “streams of thought” in the Hebrew Bible.  One is the one we heard today – the stream of covenant, reward, punishment, and threat.  It is there, it is plentiful, it can be found in the New Testament too if you are looking for it.  BUT the other one is just as plentiful, and he called that the stream of “Sabbath and distributive justice.”  That one says God created Sabbath as a gift to be equally distributed to all, and after Sabbath is distributed so too should be the land, the food, the education, … the power, etc.  It is a vision of community, of sharing, of collaboration, and of motivation to love because God loves.

Both of the streams exist, and both are substantial.  And probably both of them exist in us all to some extent, but most of us end up choosing one or the other, and I stand firmly on the side of Sabbath and distributive justice.  I'm not arrogant enough to claim the other one is WRONG, or lacks value, or those who follow it are un-faithful.  I just am here admitting that I know where I stand.

The punishments I hear in Deuteronomy are scare tactics, they are what people fear.  But fear isn't a great motivator, even if plenty of us use it on ourselves all the time. OK, fine, it is a REALLY powerful short term motivator, but it doesn't change or form hearts or minds and it runs out of steam relatively quickly. The punishments from this passage flow pretty neatly into the conceptions of heaven and hell and a God who judges who goes where – used to motivate people toward goodness and compliance but also quite poorly.  I've been asked by people why I am motivated to do good in the world if not simply to avoid hell. 

OYE!

In truth, I tend to think of the two streams of thought in the Bible as being highly reflective of two steams of thought I see in our society.  The Covenant one with rewards and punishments sounds a whole lot like authoritative leadership and a parental style often described as “daddy knows best.”  (Which doesn't mean that every family system in which this is the model has a father or has the father as the one who knows best.)  In this system everyone else's wisdom as well as their needs are dismissed so that the authoritative figure gets what they want and others are simply expected to comply. 

The Sabbath, distributive justice one sounds like an egalitarian family, one where the feelings and needs of everyone are taken seriously, and win-win solutions are sought together. 

Dear ones, I work with God toward the kindom of God because I believe it is possible to be a part of a better world.  I believe we can take care of each other.  I believe we can distribute goods and resources fairly.  I believe people are lovely and it is worth working for everyone to be better off together.   I believe in ABUNDANCE and that means there is enough for everyone if we just STOP being scared. 

Which means I would rather not scare people, since fear itself is part of the resistance to just distribution.

Now, I think some of the same energy that we find in Deuteronomy is also in John this week.  Martha believes her brother wouldn't have died if only Jesus was there, and a conversation ensues about the correctness of her belief.  For the Gospel of John, Jesus IS God, and whatever we may think about that notion, it is useful to remember when listening to John.  So Martha believed the presence of God would have prevented her brother's untimely death, and is rather irked Jesus didn't show up.  This becomes a opening to talk about Jesus/God's power of life and resurrection, and in fact the story goes on past what we read today to the resurrection of Lazarus. 

However, as Wilda Gafney says, Lazarus “is raised to life in the same old world.  Life in Jesus happens here among the brokenness, failings, and limitations of the present world.”[1]  While it could be easy to hear Jesus as talking about AFTERLIFE, the context of Lazarus pulls us back to THIS world.

Which means it pulls us back to making THIS world better, together, for all of God's beloveds, all of us.  I don't know better motivations than gratitude and hope.  Gratitude for the goodness of life and love, hope that with God all things are possible.  Including win-win solutions.  Including everyone's needs being met and everyone's feelings being taken seriously.  To get there, we get to practice – with each other, with our families, every where we go.  And thank goodness, there is a whole lot of grace for when we slip up. 

If you want to take a first, tentative step towards all this, here is a link to a “Feelings and Needs” sheet with a lot of feeling words and a list of universal human needs, and it is best to start with yourself.  What do YOU feel?  What do you need?  And how is it you feel God nudging you along to get those needs met? 

Or, maybe get to a deeper question:  what is underneath what you want?  What needs are really seeking to be met and what ways are you willing to try to get them met?  As we learn more to trust in God to care, we become better and better at sharing that love with others. We learn to make space for feelings, and needs. May God help us all!  Amen

[1]   Wilda C. Gafney, A Women's Lectionary for the Whole Church (Church Publishing Incorporated: New York, NY, 2021) p. 185

Rev. Sara E. Baron  First United Methodist Church of Schenectady  603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305  Pronouns: she/her/hers  http://fumcschenectady.org/  https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

May 14, 2023

[firstumcschenectady]

"Peace Be With You" based on Acts 5:27-32 and John 20:19-31

“Peace be with you.” It is repeated 3 times in this passage, and that’s pretty notable. There are many possible explanations for it. It is quite common in the Bible when there are experiences of the Divine that the human being experiencing something extraordinary is greeted with “Peace be with you,” I’ve often wondered if that’s because they’re usually so startled by what’s happening that they need a soothing to even settle in and listen.

But, even then, the words are very specific. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you” might also be consoling, but that’s not the norm. The norm is “peace be with you.”

And, of course, whenever we’re dealing with the Gospel of John we have to assume that the language being used reflects the early church as the Johannine community knew it, and I think by the time John was written it was common for Christians to greet each other with “Peace by with you” or “The peace of Christ be with you.” It is assumed to be one of the most ancient parts of Christian worship, we do not have any sources of early worship that predate the tradition of passing the peace. Which raises a question of if they said that cause they remembered Jesus saying it or they remembered Jesus saying it because they said it. Both are good.

Based on both of these ideas – that this is what gets said during a Divine appearance and that this is something Christians have said to each other since maybe the beginning – this phrase is really notable. And then we have it THREE times in this passage alone.

I’m thinking that these particular words are really important, maybe even core to the Jesus-movement.

Now, the word “peace” in English is an accurate and valid translation of the word “peace” in the Bible, but it is much SMALLER than the word in Hebrew and Arameic. In English peace is primarily the absence of war and violence, and then might refer to a lovely state known as “inner-peace.” But in Hebrew the word is deeper and wider. Shalom refers to the kind of peace we know, and then it keeps going. Because it includes things like root causes. So Shalom has aspects of absence of violence and war, and tranquility, but also the things you need to get there like adequate access to resources, healthy relationships, family and friends and neighbors who also have adequate access to resources and healthy relationships.

These days when I think of Shalom I often connect it with the African word “ubuntu.” In 2018 the Love Your Neighbor Campaign – a great organization we’ve been a part of that was working for the collective well-being of people in the United Methodist Church1 - put out a statement on ubuntu as a means of clarifying our priorities as a movement. While not short, I can’t in good faith cut any of it, so here it is in wholeness:

Ubuntu is an African concept that embodies a way of life. In simple terms, it is translated to mean ‘humanity’, where humanity is based on the understanding of interdependence and community life. Ubuntu is more than an expression, value, or philosophical concept. Rather it refers to a way of life that is visible in all spheres of human existence. A lifestyle that values the humanity of others as an imperative for one’s existence. It is lived recognizing that we are all created in the image of God and should do unto others as we wish it be done unto us. It says ‘I am because you are, we are not born into a single family but a community’.

Ubuntu encompasses virtues that invite us to a new way of life and our journey as Christians.  In this way of life, human dignity is an inherent and inalienable virtue of all humans, from birth, regardless of any distinctive feature and circumstances, and should be protected by all at all times. When we recognize each other as created in the image of God, protection of one’s dignity and worth is a collective obligation tied our existence as we share the pains and joys of humanity.

Ubuntu invites us to extend grace to everyone, regardless of our views or situations. God’s grace is available to all, everywhere and all the times. We recognize that our lives are defined by free and undeserved favor from God and are called to extend that grace to everyone. Our humanity isn’t defined by our efforts or status but instead defined by remembering that because we have freely received, freely we give. The consideration of others isn’t based on formulated expressions of exclusion, but rather in embracing all people, God does not exclude anyone from God’s expression of grace.

Relationship is a key element of an interdependent and community life. Relationship is more than knowing my face and name. It includes sharing struggles and successes, living and working together on our path to a good earthly life and perfection to God. We are brothers, sisters, siblings, not because we think and act the same way, but because we are all created in the image of God and were created to help one another. The image of God in you isn’t temporary nor based on my perceptions or limitations, but is a permanent reminder that we all originate from God whose infinite grace and love compel me to uphold your dignity and value in our society.

God reminds us of what God expects from us, to do justice, love mercy and walk humbly with our God. Thus, we share the collective responsibility to stand for one another when justice is denied to any one of us. We stand for one another because your safety and wellbeing is directly tied to mine, injustice is rotational, solidarity and love are the greatest weapons we have. Justice isn’t the decision of the majority, but rather the moral option that safeguards the welfare and integrity of all members of the family.

In a global but polarized world where individualism has led to racial profiling, injustice to the poor and vulnerable, religious intolerance, tribalism and nepotism, xenophobia, rejection of refugees and discrimination to people based on sexual orientation, we have failed to live to higher call of Jesus to love another just as God loves us. Ubuntu is a reminder that we share a common origin and destiny, our welfare is tied to another and we have the collective responsibility to protect the sacred dignity of our fellows, extend grace and seek justice for all, for our welfare is dependent on their welfare.

Our siblings who recently returned from Africa University reminded us in their presentation about their trip of this important concept that is now understood to be cross-African.

The words written by our African siblings in faith about ubuntu resonate with the profound meanings of shalom in the Bible. It brings the fullness needed back to the phrase “peace be with you.”

And, now, I think, we can hear more fully what it means to share a story about the risen Christ meeting with the disciples and starting the interaction with “peace be with you.” He spoke a blessing. He spoke a truth. He spoke a hope. He spoke a shared vision for the world as it should be. He spoke interconnectedness. And it was repeated THREE times in this one story because it is that central to their experience of God, of the risen Christ, of following Jesus.

To be people of faith in the tradition of Jesus is to be people of peace, of shalom, of ubuntu. It is to be blessed with knowing we are all interconnected and our well-being depends on others’ well-being. It is to be reminded that physical, spiritual, emotional, and mental health are interrelated, and our health impacts each others’ health. It is to seek the well-being of ALL, and not just some. The blessings of peace, of shalom, of ubuntu and the dreaming of the kin-dom of God are one and the same.

This sermon is, I freely admit, review. I haven’t told you much you don’t already know, nor much I don’t repeat on a regular basis. There are good reasons we have “passing the peace” in worship, and I’ve previously done my best to explain it.

The thing is, I’m about to be away for 11 weeks and while I entirely trust Karyn to preach and lead worship while I’m gone, I still feel some responsibility for offering you something to hold on to for a while. There are treacherous things underfoot, all trying to harm God’s beloveds and upset our… well, our peace.

So, for now, I leave you with the simple reminder that “peace be with you” is a fundamental Christian goal, that it has layers and layers of profound meaning, and it is worth spending our lifetimes seeking to live that blessing. Thanks be to God for aiming us well at peace, at shalom, at ubuntu. Amen

1https://www.lyncoalition.org/

April 27, 2025

Rev. Sara E. Baron 

First United Methodist Church of Schenectady 

603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305 

Pronouns: she/her/hers

 http://fumcschenectady.org/

https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

[firstumcschenectady]

“When We Are Afraid” based on Isaiah 65:17-25 and Mark 16:1-8

(2024 Easter Altar)

I love Easter! I love Easter here with the Floral Cross and brass accompaniment and space for good theology. I love “Christ the Lord is Risen Today” with a passion that is a little weird. I have this memory of closing down in person worship in 2020 early in Lent and thinking to myself, “at least we’ll be back by Easter” and then gathering in person for the first time for Easter sunrise in 2021 and all of that has helped me attend to the true and utter delight that is worshipping God TOGETHER on Easter morning. I don’t take it for granted, and I try to savor it more than ever.

This year, when I sat down to write our worship service, and read the liturgy for Lighting the Candle of Peace, Hope, and Justice I found I simply didn’t want to include it. I didn’t want to start EASTER worship talking about Salvadoran Prisons that function as Concentration Camps. I even, I’ll admit, wondered if I could just… not. If we could do that liturgy next week and this week just have a “really nice Easter.”

I’m not proud of that instinct, but I’m telling you about it because I want to be honest. I didn’t want the world’s ugliness to interfere with the holiday where we celebrate that God is more powerful than the world’s ugliness.

Anyway, I didn’t follow that instinct, and we did read the liturgy for Lighting the Candle of Peace, Hope, and Justice and so here we are with a beautiful floral cross surrounded by stunning music and we started worship talking about people who have been trafficked to inhumane Salvadoran Concentration Camps. It is possible that you, too, didn’t want to, didn’t like it, wish we hadn’t. It isn’t really that strange of a human experience to want some unbridled joy on a holiday in the midst of struggles.

That said, the Easter stories we read start in the world’s ugliness. Easter doesn’t come out of joy and remain in joy, it starts in grief, fear, and dismay. In Mark, the women waited until the Sabbath was over to anoint Jesus’ body. To engage in the rituals of letting go. They had lost their friend, their teacher, their companion, their linchpin. (And in the case of Mary Magdalene, tradition wonders if that also included her husband and/or lover.)

Mark says that they were wondering about the gravestone as they walked. I’m curious about that. I wonder if it is simply a literary device put in place so we can notice the power of the metaphor of the stone being rolled away. Because, if we are pragmatic about it we would be able to notice that:

1. The stone was rolled into place and meant to be able to be rolled away, so it WAS mobile.

2. There were three of them, and three people can coordinate efforts.

3. If they really were going there alone as the three of them, presumably they assumed they could move the stone. If they didn’t think they could, they’d have brought someone else with them.

4. It just fits that a male writer would think about women’s weakness, whereas women are quite capable human beings.

Anyway, that’s a bit of an aside, I do think it is just a literary device. Truthfully, I think the stone itself is a literary device. The first Easter involved many of Jesus’ followers having some sort of profound experience of the continuation of Jesus in the world that shook them out of their grief AND their fear and empowered them to continue his ministry in the world. They became as committed to truth, to empowering the disempowered, to praying and connecting with God, and to following God faithfully no matter the consequences as Jesus had been.

No one knows what happened that first Easter. Maybe there was a shared vision, maybe a shared dream or a series of dreams, maybe someone just had an ah-ha moment and then it caught, maybe some quiet conversations ended up being transformational. Of course, while we’re putting maybes out there, maybe people encountered an empty tomb and instead of assuming grave robbers they assumed resurrection. I wasn’t there. But the specifics of how God transformed the lives of the disciples on Easter isn’t the interesting part to me, it is the transformation itself I am invested in.

I do know that SOMETHING happened and that SOMETHING was transformational and long lasting. Those who had scattered to the wind ended up becoming the steady rocks on which the church was built. AND, that something has been passed down to us, so that when we talk about the Church as the Body of Christ, we too are claiming that Jesus’ life did not end at his crucifixion because we too are able to continue his life and ministry in the world.

But, with that SOMETHING that happened, which was probably really hard to actually explain in normal human language (because that’s how God stuff works… and often why people are a little hesitant to talk about God stuff with others because it is so hard to convey), the way it came to be talked about was with an empty tomb. That was the metaphor that worked best, and must have felt closest to what they’d experienced. I see it, they were having all the “normal” experiences of grief and dismay, the ones that come both with losing someone you love, and with seeing the ugly power of the Empire’s violence up close and it CHANGED for them. They stopped feeling like he was gone and started feeling like he was with them. This is also, at least in the gospel of John, the way the Holy Spirit is described – as the one that showed up when Jesus left and filled that void.

They were sad, and then they weren’t. The world seemed like it ended, and then it came back! The power of violence stopped Jesus, but not for very long at all! It FITS this idea of he was dead and then he… wasn’t.

And so we have stories of empty tombs and rocks rolled away because it is the best way to state the inexplicable experience of transformation they had. So I’ll let go of Mark’s presumptions about women’s capacity to move heavy things and move on. Mark, or at least this first, original ending of Mark, has the best ending of all the gospels. We’re told those women who’d arrived sad and experienced the inexplicable left FLEEING and told NO ONE. Clearly, we know that not to be true BECAUSE WE ARE HEARING THE STORY, but it sets each of us up as a disciple to fill the space the women left. If they were afraid and told no one, will we be like them, or will we participate in telling the story so it gets heard? And, I particular, will we be stopped by fear or will we find the courage to respond with faith and love?

Easter exists in the midst of real life, of Empires killing innocent men, of the use of power to intimidate, and the work to separate people from each other. Jesus did this amazing work in reminding people that God was with them, and they were with each other. He took what the powers separated and reminded the people they could be for each other and do much better together. It was the power of his ability to connect to people, to connect people to God, and to connect people to each other that created such a disturbance that he ended up being killed as a revolutionary. Because the Empire does better when the people are separate and afraid. But God does better when the people are connected and courageous.

God meets us in the midst of the reality of life. God knows about domination systems, Empires, the powerful trying to break people apart, intimidate tactics, and lies, and God knows about injustice, racial profiling, and concentration camps. God knows. God has been through it before. God knows exactly how people can harm and kill each other.

But God, also, knows the rest of the human story. God knows about systems of equality and equity, about self-governance, about compassion and empathy, about solidarity. God knows about peace, justice, and hope. God knows about HEALING, and human connection across differences, and the work to create a world of justice and mercy. God knows about apologies and reconciliation, about truth telling and its power, and about means of grace and their power to transform.

When violence has its way, we can trust that God is at work to find the ways of kindness, compassion, healing, and restoration. When brokenness comes into being, we can trust that God is at work to smooth rough edges, to mold together broken pieces, and to create something anew. When death has its way, we can trust that God is STILL at work, finding ways to plant life and love despite it all.

There is nothing at all that is OK about people being trafficked to concentration camps. Nothing. It is completely and utterly immoral and atrocious. And, God is also not a peace with what has happened, and is working to change it. All the people motivated to speak up, to show up, to write, to call for change are a part of God’s work in the world. We don’t yet know WHEN the love of God and acts of compassion will change this reality. We know it has ALREADY been far too long, but we know that the love of God and acts of compassion WILL change this reality because God is not at peace with this, and the people of God are not at peace with this.

We say and shout and sing Alleluias today, praising God for God’s transforming power that we see in Easter and all around us. There is more work to be done, but Easter reminds us that God is at work and we are able to make a difference with God. LOVE WILL WIN IN THE END. That’s the miraculous reality the early Christians were trying to tell us about with an empty tomb and rolled away stone. That even death wasn’t able to stop God’s work in Jesus, God’s work of compassion, justice, and hope. Given all that, dear ones, I believe stones are about to ROLL. Thanks be to God. Amen

April 20, 2025 - Easter

Rev. Sara E. Baron  First United Methodist Church of Schenectady  603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305  Pronouns: she/her/hers  http://fumcschenectady.org/  https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

[firstumcschenectady]

“The Lost Son(s)” based on Joshua 5:9-12 and Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32 March 30, 2025

If you have been part of the church for a while, you probably think you know the parable of “The Prodigal” pretty well. In short, many of us were trained to hear this as being about God who is generously forgiving, like the father in the parable. It is probably better for those of you who are a little new to this game, because today you are going to have to unlearn less stuff.

I’m working today with the wisdom of Amy-Jill Levine, in her book “Short Stories by Jesus.” Dr. Levine is a professor of New Testament and Jewish Studies at Hartford International University for Religion and Peace. Yes. New Testament and Jewish Studies. Dr. Levine is unusual in that she is a Jewish New Testament Professor, and that means she does incredible work bringing the history of Judaism as context for the New Testament.

She is also, let me be clear, awesome. And, a number of years ago she was in Schenectady to lecture at Union College. I’d had the privilege of meeting her even more years ago when I co-lead worship for a retreat where she was the key-note speaker. So I invited her to coffee, and somehow we ended up sitting in my office for hours talking. One of the things I remember saying is that this church gives her hope.

OK, so you are caught up? There is a brilliant scholar who brings incredibly useful Jewish context to the New Testament, and also she’s been here and she was impressed with you. (I am too, I love this church.)

Dr. Levine’s work on the parables in Luke 15 are the first chapter of her book “Short Stories by Jesus” and she brings some critiques even to the names we call it. She says, “there is nothing complimentary about being prodigal, that is, in wasting resources for personal gratification.”1 She ends up calling it the “Lost Son” parable, although she toys around with “The Father Who Lost His Son(s).”2

As good scholars do, Dr. Levine rejects attempts to make a parable into an allegory. She maintains the right of the father and both sons to be simply characters in the story. She does NOT think that the father represents God. Which is good, because he’s not a great father. She even takes the story as a stand alone, outside of the interpretation that the Gospel of Luke applies to it. She lets the parable stand as it is. So, let’s hear what happens when you do it that way.

Luke 15 opens with, “Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. And the Pharisees and scribes were grumbling saying, ‘This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.’”3 (Luke 15:1-2) Dr. Levine thinks we may mess a bunch of the memos in even those opening lines. She writes:

The problem with “tax collectors” is not that they have have denied the covenant; it is that they work for Rome and so would be seen by many in the Jewish community as traitors to their own people.

Sinners are not “outcasts”; they are not cast out of synagogues or out of the Jerusalem Temple. To the contrary they are welcome in such places, since such places encourage repentance. The Gospels generally present sinners as wealthy people who have not attended to the poor. That is a dandy definition of the term. Thus, in a first-century context, sinners, like tax collectors, are individuals who have removed themselves from the common welfare, who look to themselves rather than to the community.4

Such a good definition of sin, and such an idea worthy of reflection. I suspect many of us can FEEL the truth of sinners being people who care only about themselves and not about the common well-being of the community. Yes?

Luke 15 then has three parables – the lost sheep, the lost coin and then the lost son. The three seem presented to build on each other and reflect on each other. In each case the person who loses something has more than average. Most people didn’t have 100 sheep, most people didn’t have 10 silver coins, most people didn’t have a wealthy estate to liquidate to give to a son as an inheritance. Also, 100 sheep can be hard to count. Most people can’t immediately see in a pile of coins if there are 9 or 10. But two sons are supposed to be pretty easy to notice. But we’ll come back to that.

Dr. Levine points out that “some man had two sons” is a fabulous opening line that would lead its initial hearers to think about Cain and Abel; Ishmael and Issac; Esau and Jacob; etc. She says:

All Biblically literate listers know to identify with the younger son. But those first-century biblically literate listeners were in for a surprise, when the younger son turns out not to be the righteous Abel, faithful Issac, clever Jacob, strategic David, or wise Solomon. He turns out to be an irresponsible, self-indulgent, and probably indulged child, whom I would not, despite his being Jewish, be please to have my daughter date.5

Some of you are also quite biblically literate and you know that it was normal for a first born son to get a “double share” of the inheritance, so that an elder son would get 2/3 and a younger son 1/3. But, that was actually up the discretion of the father, who decided not to do it that way. Dr. Levine says that asking for an inheritance while the father was alive was probably similar to doing so today – not super common but not super problematic either. It is clear that the father is very fond of this younger son, probably problematically so.

In any case, the younger son gets his inheritance, leaves, spends it, and ends up in trouble. Dr. Levine reflects on the question, “What went wrong for him?”:

Readers in the United States, the United Kingdom, Australia, and South Africa tend to attribute his desperate status to a combination of bad parenting, lack of community values, separating himself from his network, and personal responsibility. …

Readers in Russia tend to note neither personal failure nor fiduciary ineptitude but the famine – there was no food to distribute. In a Vanderbilt University seminar on Luke’s Gospel, a graduate student from Kenya proposed that the real problem was lack of generosity, for no one gave him anything. This reading is particularly commended by the narrative context of the parable. Junior’s yearning to be fulfilled is the same term used to describe the sick and destitute Lazarus in Luke 16:21.6

Lack of generosity. That’s a good take.

Many of us know that good Jewish boys didn’t raise pigs, but we’ve been taught it would have been problematic for a Jewish boy to even feed pigs, but Dr. Levine disagrees, “the son did what he did in order to live; Jewish Law is law by which one lives, not by which one dies. The prodigal is in an impossible situation, but the issue is not Jewish xenophobia or purity. The problem is starvation.”7

Then the younger son decides to return home. He claims he is going home to be a hired hand, but keeps calling his father father and assuming he’ll be received with open arms. Its manipulative. Basically, his plan is “I’ll go to Daddy and sound religious.”8

As he returns, his father is thrilled to see him, is filled with compassion, runs to greet him, kisses him, and throws a party. I’ve been taught that the father acted too enthusiastically for a proper patriarch, but Dr. Levine is having none of that. She leans hard into proving that fathers who thought they’d lost their children and meet them alive again were welcome to respond with joy – and that no shame came on anyone for his delight.

The issue is entirely different. The issue is that he throws a party and FORGETS TO INVITE THE ELDER SON. Which is where we go back to 100 sheep are hard to count, 10 coins aren’t necessarily visibly different from 9, but heavens one should be able to count to 2 when it comes to children. But this father forgot to count to TWO. It really does seem like his preference for his younger son impaired his capacity to express love to his elder son.

So the older son comes out of the fields, notices the party, and asks one of the slaves what is going on. He gets told “your brother has come, and your father has sacrificed the grain-fed calf, because he received him healthy. And he became angry and didn’t want to go in.”9 Would you? It is, at least, very uncomfortable to be the last one told and to have been uninvited to the party, isn’t it?

So the father comes out to the elder son, the one who it turns out is lost to him in a way he hadn’t realized, and tries to comfort him and urge him to come in. But the elder brother is angry, and – finally- says so. The elder son rejects his familial connection to his brother, referring to him as “your son” but the father tries again and calls him “your brother.” (Truly, the use of family references in this parable is brilliant.) The father affirms “all that I have is yours” which is a truth the son needed to hear.

But the parable ends without a true conclusion. The father has made an appeal, but the two of them are left standing together outside of the party, with the son’s answer unmade. Does he go in? Does he refuse? Dr. Levine keeps asking:

What would we do, were we the older son? Do we attend the party? What will happen to this family when the father dies and the elder son obtains his inheritance? Will he keep Junior in the restored position to which the father elevated him or will he send him to the stables, to be treated as one of the ‘hired laborers’? …

What do we do if we identify with the father and find our own children are lost? Is repeated pleading sufficient? What would be? What does a parent do to show a love that the child never felt?”10

She concludes, “In this household, no one has expressed sorrow at hurting each other and no one has expressed forgiveness. … Recognize that the one you have lost may be right in your own household. Do whatever it takes to find the lost and then celebrate with others, both so that you can share the joy and so that others will help prevent the recovered from ever being lost again.”11

She speaks truths I’ve heard from so many people, including many of you. This ancient short story seems like it resonates today as well as any day, when we let it speak for itself. The parable leaves me yearning for healing in that family’s relationships, similar to a way I often yearn for healing in people’s family’s today.

That yearning for wholeness and goodness, that’s a whole big piece of what we’re trying to do as people of faith. Build a world where more and more people get to be whole, where more and more families get to be whole, where wholeness is easier and easier to access. And in this time when it is hard to impact the big stuff, maybe it is a good reminder to look around and work on the relationships with those closest to us. And to let our yearning for wholeness lead us to act in ways that lead to healing and wholeness here and now. May it be so! Amen

1Amy-Jill Levine, Short Stories by Jesus, (USA: HarperOne, 2014) p. 29.

2p. 27.

3p. 31.

4p. 33.

5p. 47.

6p. 51.

7p. 52.

8p. 52 – quoting David Buttrick.

9p. 61.

10p. 68-69.

11p. 69.

Rev. Sara E. Baron  First United Methodist Church of Schenectady  603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305  Pronouns: she/her/hers  http://fumcschenectady.org/  https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

March 30, 20215

[firstumcschenectady]

“Provisions” based on Isaiah 55:1-9 and Luke 13:1-9

I was reading a commentary on Luke and I realized I’m “getting” Pilate more and more these days:

Josephus’s accounts of Pilate’s confrontations with the Jews confirm that bloodshed was not uncommon: Pilate’s troops killed a group of Samaritans climbing Mt. Gerizim; Pilate introduced Roman effigies into Jerusalem; Pilate seized Temple Treasury funds in order to build an aqueduct.1

I don’t appreciate having a more visceral understanding of the experiences of ancient Jews in oppression by the leaders of the Empire, but here we are nonetheless.

I have been convinced by Marcus Borg, John Dominic Crossan, and Walter Brueggemann that the Bible sets up a contrast between human systems of oppression and domination and God’s aims for systems of wholeness and interdependence. Various entities play the role of “oppression and domination” in different parts of the Bible. Egypt and the Pharaoh get to be the first and primary example of oppressors.

Egypt and the Pharaoh oppress the descendants of Abraham, Issac, and Jacob, and then God intervenes and frees the people. The people learn dependence on God and each other, and then get to settle into the “Promised Land” where they live in mutuality with sustainable practices and relative equality for a nice long time. 400 years or so.

The next example of oppression in the Bible is the Ancient Israelite Kings, perhaps none more so than Solomon. Once the people get a King, they get high taxes, forced labor, and class differentiation, not to mention kings who think they have the right to do whatever they want regardless of settled laws. The people are oppressed by their own Kings, mostly, although there is some debate about if that oppression was “better” than some others.

Then the next big oppressors are the nations who capture Ancient Israel and Ancient Judah, Assyria and Babylon. We hear more about Babylon, and it Babylon that features in our Hebrew Bible lesson today.

Isaiah 55 comes from the time of exile, when many Ancient Israelites were exiled in Babylon. While the exiles were taken away in waves and returned in waves, we often summarize the exile as lasting about 70 years, which means that most of the people taken into exile died there and most of the people who ended up returning had never been “home” before.

Today’s passionate passage dreams of the joy of homecoming, and contrasts the oppressive systems the people knew in Babylon with a return of God’s dreams back home. Walter Brueggemann writes:

The poet makes a sharp contrast between old modes of life under Babylonian authority and the new offer of life with Yahweh. The initial verse, perhaps in the summoning mode of a street vender, offers to passerby free water, free wine, and free milk. This of course is in contrast to the life resources offered by the empire that are always expensive, grudging, and unsatisfying. Israel is invited to chose the free, alternative nourishment offered by Yahweh.2

The thing is, the author of Isaiah 55 knows that not everyone will make that choice. The people who were thriving in Babylon were likely going to stick with the oppressive regime that benefited them instead of trying to live out God’s dreams. Others would stay because they just didn’t believe things could be any different. Despair kept them in place.

Whenever I encounter this passage, I’m drawn like a magnet to verse 2, “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.” This just has so many layers of truth. One is probably too literal, but in these days of ubiquitous processed food designed to create cravings without satisfaction I take the passage as a reminder to eat food that satisfies. Similarly, why do we spend money on cheap plastic gadgets that we’ll eventually tire of and trash?

More spiritually though, this passage guides me to reflection. What am I spending time, money, or energy on that doesn’t actually matter? Where is my labor being wasted? What good things is God wanting for us that we’re too distracted to attend to? What things that we have and hold dear might actually be getting in the way of what need or what would be great for us? What do I think of as “bread” that is really “fluff” and where do I seek satisfaction where I’m really being exploited?

The premise here is that God wants goodness for the people. Satisfying food that everyone can access, labor that builds up life and doesn’t drain it, delight, love, hope, a clear sense of God’s closeness, mercy, complete and utter wholeness and freedom. Contained within though is the reality that even when that kind of goodness is offered, people don’t always take it. Probably, at least in some ways, we don’t either, and God invites us to goodness again and again.

And to turn away from the things of death and destruction, from cheap tricks that distract us, from oppression and evil in all forms. So that we, and all, can move towards life.

Of course, we never get to do that in a vacuum. While we’re trying to learn how to live into God’s goodness, and let go of the things that don’t satisfy or bring life, we have to do it in the midst of a world where domination systems exist and oppression is present. Sometimes those are heavier than others, which I think we have already noticed today, but they’re never gone (at least in Western societies, I think some indigenous societies were and are quite different.).

By the time of Jesus the domination system of oppression was the Roman Empire version, and it was about as brutal as usual. While we hear Jesus talking about two incidents – one where Pilate had killed a group of people and one where a wall or tower collapsed and killed a group of people – I think the author of Mark was probably talking a lot more about the destruction of Jerusalem itself. There are profound questions being asked here, generally amounting to “are people who die in random incidents killed because God is punishing them for sin?” to which Jesus answers, “no!” And yet, Jesus says, unless things change and people engage differently with each other it will keep happening. Which, I’ll say, is true. For the early Jesus movement, there was a sense of urgency in this, perhaps because the early Jesus movement had also just experienced the massacre and destruction of Jerusalem and had a strong sense that the world was ending.

The end of our passage is also meant to bring urgency, but it also brings grace. The desert climate of Israel isn’t an easy one to grow anything in, there isn’t spare land or spare water for trees that don’t produce fruit. And yet, the gardener intercedes on behalf of the tree, asking for one more year to nurture it more deeply and see if it is able to fulfill its purpose.

I love that it reminds us that when we aren’t able to “fulfill our purposes,” we too may need some gentleness and nurture to give us a fighting chance. I love that it reminds us of a good way to treat others who are struggling. And I notice that the end goal is a tree that bears fruit, so that the people can eat from it.

Jesus and his followers get accused of being gluttons, drunkards, and violators of the Sabbath because they eat when they’re hungry and drink when they are thirsty. Jesus tells stories about fig trees, and wanting them to make figs so people can eat them.

It feels a little bit like the fulfillment of Isaiah’s dreams of what it would be like for the people who returned from exile. There was in the time of Jesus a plenty powerful oppressive system in place, but Jesus and his followers just ignored it. They lived as if they were responsible for and to each other, and savored life. This wasn’t a simple way to be, and it definitely had consequences, but I think it was a faithful way to be.

In the midst of systems that seem to push people down, one of the strongest forms of resistance is to eat bread that satisfies AND share it! To simply refuse to participate in oppression and instead participate in enjoying the goodness of life that God offers, and inviting others to do so as well. To find what satisfies, and share that too. To live God’s mercy.

Come to the waters, beloveds of God. You are not obligated to drink the oppressors’ poison, you are are invited to eat and drink and be satisfied and whole. Receive the provisions of God. God’s goodness remains, no matter what the oppressors have to say about it, no matter what they do. Thanks be to God! Amen

1R. Alan Culpepper, “Luke in” The New Interpreter’s Bible Vol IX, editorial board convened by Leander E. Keck (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1995) Commentary on Luke 13:1-9, page 270.

2Walter Brueggemann, Isaiah 40-66 (Louisville, KT: Westminster John Knox Press, 1998), page 158-9.

Rev. Sara E. Baron  First United Methodist Church of Schenectady  603 State St. Schenectady, NY 12305  Pronouns: she/her/hers  http://fumcschenectady.org/  https://www.facebook.com/FUMCSchenectady

March 23, 2025