#First UMC Schenectady

[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

[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]

“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]

“Hosier” based on Jeremiah 17:5-10 and Luke 6:17-26

It is Black History Month, a wonderful month when all of us have opportunity and encouragement to learn about African Americans in this country – their experiences, their contributions, their lives! I appreciate the reminder that African American history is American history, despite the emphasis in any particular history book any of us may have read in schools.

Here at First UMC Schenectady, we’ve now in our second week of singing songs written and/or composed by African American authors and composers, and what a gift that is to this moment in history!

In the gospel today we hear Luke’s sermon the plain, the Lukan version of Matthew’s sermon on the mount. Matthew’s version is better known because it is more palatable. Which, contrarian as I can be, means I like Luke’s version better. Luke’s is more concrete. Matthew says “blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” Luke says, “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.” Matthew says, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.” Luke makes it concrete again, “Blessed are you who are hungry now, for you will be filled.” And while Matthew promises comfort to those who mourn, Luke promises laughter to those who weep.

And, of course, Luke includes “woes” that Matthew does not. Luke makes it clear we are not talking about keeping the status quo with a few more people included in the “haves” group from the “have nots.” Luke says we’re talking about a full reversal of fortunes.

OK, fine, I don’t love that. I get it, but I don’t love it. I don’t want those who are laughing now to weep, I just don’t want them cackling with glee at hurting people. And I don’t want ANYONE hungry. But, regardless of my preferences, here is the text, challenging as anything, pushing us past comfort zones to consider deeply that one should not assume good fortune is God’s will AT ALL.

Which is quite important, because all of us know people who are like Jeremiah’s trees planted by streams of water – people who soak up the goodness of God and have it to share in abundance – who don’t happen to have material wealth or social power.

And I want to tell you about another of those people. I mentioned in the Call to Worship that God likes to surprise us. If you were thinking about what opportunities presented themselves to African Americans born into slavery in North Carolina in 1750… what might you say?

Right, of course: one of the greatest preachers in the world, one of the most significant voices of the First Great Awakening. That’s what I thought you’d say.

from https://www.umc.org/en/content/harry-hosier-americas-first-black-methodist-preacher

Now, we aren’t sure of much about Harry Hoiser’s childhood. People think he was likely born on our about 1750 (his life overlapped with that of John Welsey), most likely in North Carolina, more likely than not into slavery. No one knows. At some point he became a Christian, and although he was not literate he could memorize a hymn on first hearing, and shared scriptures entirely from memory. He was a preacher, and he became Bishop Francis Asbury’s traveling companion.

You may know of Asbury, he along with Thomas Coke was commissioned by John Wesley to lead the Methodist Church in the burgeoning United States. He was the traveling companion of Asbury, meaning Coke said of him, “I really believe he is one of the best preachers in the world, There is such an amazing power attends his preaching, though he cannot read; and he is one of the humblest creatures I ever saw.”

Harry Hoiser was a PREACHER. His sermon, "The Barren Fig Tree," preached at Adam's Chapel, Fairfax County, Virginia, in May of 1781, was the first recorded Methodist sermon by a black person in America.1 He was also an organizer, and a man who worked for justice. He was also a known companion of Freeborn Garrison.

You may have heard of Freeborn Garrison, perhaps because he was the one charged with making a Schenectady Circuit and thus with organizing, oh, you know, our church in 1789...under the authority of and sent by Bishop Frances Asbury.

So, what I’m telling you, is that one of the, if not THE most famous Methodist preacher of the Great Awakening was Harry Hoiser, whose best known companions were responsible for forming this church, and that great preacher was an African American man. I will say that our history books do not mention him, so I am unable to say with any certainty if he was directly a part of the formation of this church, but he was so great a part of the Methodist movement, that he impacted this church even if he was never here.

Harry Hoiser, along with Richard Allen (who later broke off and formed the African Methodist Episcopal Church), were the only 2 African Americans at the formational Christmas Conference of 1784.

It was said of him, “His voice was musical, and his tongue as the pen of a ready writer. He was unboundedly popular, and many would rather hear him than the bishops.”2 Those Bishops, I might add, were Thomas Coke and Francis Asbury and the story has it that when he became Asbury’s traveling companion he would exhort the listeners after the sermon to enact what Asbury had preached. At some point he became the principal preacher.

Now, Freeborn Garrettson, “following his conversion, found himself dejected. Then one Sunday as he led family prayers, a thought penetrated his melancholy gloom: “It is not right for you to keep your fellow creatures in bondage.” Whereupon he told his slaves they were free. Later, Hosier, a former slave, and Garrettson, a former owner of slaves, ministered together.” (shivers)

In addition to being the first African American Methodist preacher in the newly formed United States in 1781, only 3 years later he became the first African American Preacher to preach to a white congregation.3 On at least one occasion, Hoiser preached to more than 1,000 people at once!

Booker T. Washington said Harry, “was the first black American Methodist preacher in the United States..  He traveled extensively through the New England and Southern States and shared the pulpits of the white ministers whom he accompanied.  But he seems to have excelled them all in popularity as a preacher”.

Francis Asbury and Harry Hoosier baptized so many people that Asbury wrote in his journal that on any given day Asbury and Hoosier would baptize more people than a typical parish minister back in England would baptize during his entire ministry.4

One more interesting piece about Harry Hoiser – there is not scholarly consensus on why Indiana is the Hooiser state, but one of the solid theories is that the State of Indiana was unusually Methodist at the time of its founding, and they were Hooisers in remembrance of Harry Hoiser (sometimes spelled Hoosier.)

So, clearly, God was at work in Harry Hoiser, and despite the limitations attempted to be imposed on him by society and the challenge of being illiterate was widely renowned as a preacher. The United Methodist bookstore is Cokesbury (Get it? Thomas COKE and Francis AsBURY), whose symbol is of John Wesley riding on horseback while reading a book, a trick he was famous for. And yet, John Wesley’s movement in the United States was largely dependent on the preaching skills of someone whose life never afforded him the opportunity to read one.

We don’t have direct lines we can draw from our existence today to Harry Hoiser’s preaching, but it seems safe to say that Hoiser’s influence was so significant that both American Christianity and the Methodist movement would never be what they are without his work for God and God’s justice.

Blessed are you who are born in obscurity, the world will know your name.

Blessed are you who learn from others instead of from books, many will learn from you.

Blessed are you who break barriers, the world will be blessed through you.

Blessed are you who seek justice, you will be part of building it.

And, to be concrete like Luke, I suspect Harry Hoiser was hungry as a child, but the Methodists kept him well fed later in life. He was poor as a child and likely as an adult, but he lived the kindom of God. He was often excluded, but won people over. Whatever weeping happened early in his life, there was laughter in abundance as he connected and reconnected with friends the Methodist movement.

Harry Hoiser is one of many examples of what God has been up to. He reminds us that the limitations we see in life are ones God enjoys blowing away. He reminds us that what we think a person can do isn’t in any way related to what God thinks a person can do. He shows us that humble beginnings don’t need to define a life, at least not a life within God’s people.

Harry Hoiser reminds me of the basic Christian affirmation- the limits humans put on each other don’t limit God. Nothing, nothing, NOTHING can stop God’s work in the world. NOTHING.

Thank goodness. Amen

1https://aaregistry.org/story/black-harry-hosier-orator-of-spirit/

2https://www.umc.org/en/content/harry-hosier-americas-first-black-methodist-preacher

3ibid

4https://harryhoosierproject.org/the-story

Feburary 16, 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]

“Steadfast Love” based on Psalm 138 and Luke 5:1-11

Our nation’s oldest colleges and universities were created to educate clergy. In terms of undergraduates, that isn’t the goal anymore, and when it happens it is accidental. This is probably good, because many ways of serving God and building the kindom require education, and we definitely want people who can do their work well.

Africa University, founded in 1992, offers 7 faculties or colleges:

theology,

education, agriculture & natural resources,

management & administration,

humanities & social sciences,

health sciences,

the Institute of Peace, Leadership and Governance.1

I have to admit that I’m so interested in this list, first that it still includes theology (which most of the graduates I know from Africa University focused on), but also how broad it is and how it seems to be responsive to the needs of the students who attend. It is very clear that leaders of nations are being educated at Africa University – with attention to the many kinds of leadership nations need.

It is said, “When Africa University students and graduates express their hopes and dreams, they often speak about changing the African continent - making a difference in their world.”2 I have to say, this dream feels bigger than most institutions of higher education I know in the USA.

There is a phrase I hear sometimes, “a God-sized dream.” It is used to encourage people to dream bigger, vision more broadly, take risks with what is possible. I have to say, I think that when African Bishops Emilio J. M. Carvalho of Angola and Bishop Arthur F. Kulah of Liberia challenged their colleagues at the General Board of Higher Education and Ministry (GBHEM) to support the establishment of a university in Africa”3 that they dreamed a God-sized dream. Perhaps it fits then, that their motto is “The Dream is Alive!”

Today, there are more than 10,000 alums in 32 countries, 92% of whom are still in Africa. In 2020, there were 3010 students, 57% of whom were female. 57%! The university has teaching halls, administration buildings, student residences, faculty residences, and guest housing – which is about to house our four beloveds!

From Africa University “About- History and Development” Website, accessed 2/6/2025 https://africau.edu/about/history-development/

I am, I’ll admit, star struck by Africa University. It is one of the best things I think the United Methodist Church has ever done, and every alum I’ve ever met has blown me away. Some of this may be that I was raised in the United Methodist Church, and I heard about the development of Africa University when I was growing up, and about fundraising to make it possible, and about church members who went on trips to see it, and about what impact it could make in the world. And then, as a seminary student, I was suddenly in classes with Africa University alums, and I realized that how big that dream had become, and how tangible it was in the world.

Both the former Troy Conference (which this church was a part of) and the former Wyoming Conference (where I grew up) were huge supporters of Africa University, and Bob is well known for riding his bike to Annual Conference to raise money for Africa University. (And, by the way, the Africa University development office called this church this week to thank us for our support of Africa University!)

So this week, when I hear the beginning of Psalm 138:

I give you thanks, O LORD, with my whole heart; before the gods I sing your praise;

I bow down toward your holy temple and give thanks to your name for your steadfast love and your faithfulness, for you have exalted your name and your word above everything.

On the day I called, you answered me; you increased my strength of soul.

I hear it in the context of the dreams of Bishops Carvalho and Kulah, and the wonder in the world that is Africa University. It resonates. We give thanks to God for the dreams that were dreamt, and for the willingness of the institution to listen, for the affirmation of General Conference, and for the willingness of God’s people to fund the University. We give thanks for faculty and students, for alums and supports, for scholarships and networks, and for the ways that students from 28 countries get to learn from each other and alongside each other. There is a lot there to sing praises for! There is a lot of God’s faithfulness seen in the creation and running of Africa University, a living proof that people called out and God answered – often through other people.

Now, dear ones, I’m aware that the US news cycle contains a few things that some of us have found upsetting this week. I’m not being intentionally obtuse in ignoring them, but I don’t think they need more of our attention when we are given the great gift of sending our siblings in faith to Africa University for the first time! I think the story of the creation of Africa University and the continued story of its impact in the world is awe-inspiring, hope-filled, and quite worthy of our attention. And, it deserves to be said, our souls need to be fed by the Good News of God.

Because I fear that in parts of some days, we feel a lot like the fishers who had fished all night and caught nothing. We have these deeply held values, we have these kindom building dreams, we have these movements in our souls to care for all of God’s people – and yet our efforts may feel like fishing all night with nothing to show for it.

But the truth is that kindom building isn’t really a whole lot like fishing. Because kindom building is long, slow, careful work – and quite often what we do doesn’t have any visible impact – UNTIL all of a sudden, it does.

I’ve mentioned that Bishops Carvalho and Kulah called on GBHEM to establish AU in 1984. However, the timeline of Africa University doesn’t start with them. It starts 86 years earlier when “Bishop John Hartzell stood on Mount Chirembe above Old Mutare and looking down upon the valley, envisioned hundreds of young Africans with books in their hands, running to school.”4 That’s a long time, from the first dreaming to the calling for action. But, it strikes me that Bishop Hartzell’s dream must have been remembered and reflected on, since it wasn’t lost to history. His dream was planted, and it took a rather long time for it to start to show growth, but when the call came, all of the pieces were ready to go. Bishops Carvalho and Kulah called on GBHEM to establish AU in 1984, it was affirmed by General Conference in 1988, and only 4 years later the first students matriculated.

Our kindom building work matters in the now. The people we find patience for, the ones we listen to, the ones we find ways to express concern and care for all matter. Furthermore, the ways that we act now are part of that invisible growth of God’s dreams – the parts that are happening slowly and quietly and invisibly, like a seed preparing to break out of the soil.

Take heart, dear ones. God ensures that the good work of sharing love and hope in the world doesn’t go to waste. It matters in the now, and God is able to work within what’s possible to amplify the good into the future. As the Psalm says as it ends, “The LORD will fulfill his purpose for me; your steadfast love, O LORD, endures forever. Do not forsake the work of your hands.”

And, truly great things can happen. Africa University is one piece of proof, and this trip that Upper New York is taking that allows those who have worked for Africa University for decades to see it with their own eyes is another.

God’s roots are deep, and they soak up goodness. God’s roots are deep, and God’s steadfast love endures forever. God’s roots are deep, and God is at work in the world. Thanks be to God! Amen

1 Africa University Fund “Four Areas of Focus” Brochure.

2Ibid

3Africa University “About- History and Development” Website, accessed 2/6/2025 https://africau.edu/about/history-development/

4Ibid

[firstumcschenectady]

"If I Fall" based on Isaiah 43:1-7 and Luke 3:15-17, 21-22

Lay Leader Karyn McCloskey's sermon:

Friends, all I can say is what a week to end up preaching…

I suspect there are at least one or two here today who climbed into a pulpit on September 16th,2001 and the months following and may remember what this feels like.

I don’t mean the sheer incomprehensibility of the attacks – at least to those of us born and raised in this country – but rather the aftermath.   The hateful response to anyone who looked or sounded “foreign” --especially those with brown skin.   The changes in our own government, the “Patriot Act” and the like.  “See something, say something.”  Distrust your neighbors – especially those with headcoverings and accents.   It still bottoms out my stomach when I think about it.

This week feels the same.  Changes in government, gag orders, stepping out of treaties and away from world citizenship.  And now the ICE raids, families keeping their kids out of school, worried about neighbors turning them in—or at the very least not standing up to power.  

It’s a lot and it’s overwhelming and it has the potential to seem completely hopeless…except that we are called to be people of hope.   In essence for me, that’s what our baptisms recognize – they’re an outward sign of inward grace.  Grace found in all people – regardless of race, religion, creed, time, place, socioeconomic status, or ability. There’s no clearer indication of this than the baptism of the Divine by a human.   And for me, no clearer call on my heart than our baptismal vows.

I chose to use them as our call to worship because I think we need to have them in front of us.  To give us strength when we’re weary.  To pull us back when we’re getting distracted.   To make us angry enough to flip tables that society would like us to quietly sit at.

This isn’t the first time that people of faith—and to be clear I don’t mean just Christians --  have been called to action, called to stand with the vulnerable, called on a massive scale to respond with a very clear “NO”.   Some of you have heard me tell the tale of Denmark in 1943, when after three years of Nazi occupation during which time the entire population, including the royal family, refused to comply with even intolerance, Hitler sent transport ships on the eve of Rosh Hashanah to gather up the Danish Jews.   Word was spread across the countryside and through the cities – and overnight the Danish people hid over 7,000 of their fellow citizens away – in hospital beds, under fake names.  In barns, in basements.  And then shuttled them away in the holds of fishing boats across the waters to neutral Sweden.  The German ships returned empty --- and Denmark holds the distinction of being the only country in occupied Europe where the majority of those sent to the death camps were not Jewish.

A more recent example comes closer to home, when in March of 1965 came first the horror of Bloody Sunday, when 600 African Americans marching from Selma to Montgomery Alabama were beaten, run down, and tear gassed by State troopers and county possemen on the Edmund Pettus Bridge --- followed by two more marches along that same route when thousands of people of all races, many of whom were clergy and other people of faith –  with the third one ending with more than 25,000 assembling to protest at the Alabama State Capital, demanding the removal of obstacles to Black voter registration.  ( On a side note – if you want to be inspired, I highly recommend watching the film “Selma” – that’s how I spent part of last Monday.)

There are others—like the decades of struggle, pain, and hard work that made possible this brand new Book of Discipline I got this week – but you get the point.   At such a time as this, we are called to build the kindom.  

To fall down and get back up.

To pick each other up – or lay down beside each other until we can rise again.

To stand behind, beside or in front of those who are vulnerable.

To use every ounce of whatever privilege we have

to speak out,

to lead out,

to fight our way out of this mess going on around us.

Because that’s how we renounce the spiritual forces of wickedness, reject the evil and unjust powers of this world, and repent of our separation from God and each other.  So that we can accept the freedom and power God gives us    to resist evil, injustice, and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves!

And this becomes possible, because we know, to the very core of our beings, that the God of Jacob formed us too and the promise that echoes through the ages remains true:  “I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.  When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.”

Amen.

January 26, 2025

[firstumcschenectady]

“If I Fall…” based on Micah 6:6-8 and Matthew 5:1-16

January is National Mentoring Month, and so this year for Human Relations Day, we decided to look at Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. in context – along with the people who inspired him, and the people he inspired. Thus, I opened a lot of articles on the people who served as Dr. King’s mentors and I have three things to say based on that: OH MY GOODNESS were those impressive men; thank goodness for Ghandi and his witness to the powers of nonviolence that these mentors heard loud and clear; and finally – what an extraordinary group of superbly well educated men of color!

In the end though, I found myself more interested in Dr. King’s co-mentoring relationships. Perhaps that would be more normally construed as his collaborators. The key, I think, is to remember that Dr. King was the best known leader in the Civil Rights movement, but he was by no means alone. Dr. King worked side by side with Ralph Abernathy, and the impacts on the movement of Coretta Scott King and Juanita Jones Abernathy was also enormous. The Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee was working tirelessly as well, with its wise leaders and faithful on the ground workers. Movements, it turns out, involve a lot of PEOPLE. No one person is a movement, nor can a single person lead a movement alone. Movements are the embodiment of “we’re in this together.”

With the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) was a woman by the name of Fannie Lou Hamer:

Born in Mississippi in 1917, Hamer was a working poor and disabled Black sharecropper who joined the Civil Rights Movement at the age of forty-four. In 1962, her life changed dramatically after attending a mass meeting at a local church. The gathering had been organized by activists in SNCC. The speakers that night highlighted how ordinary citizens could transform American society with the right to vote, a message that resonated with Hamer. She went on to become a field secretary for SNCC and assisted Black people in Mississippi and beyond with voter registration.

This was dangerous work. In June 1963, Hamer was returning from South Carolina with a group of other activists. They stopped in Wynona to grab a bite to eat. Hamer’s colleagues encountered resistance from the owners of the café who made it clear that Black people were not welcome. The police arrived. And when Hamer exited the bus, an officer grabbed her and started kicking her. After Hamer and her colleagues were arrested, they received brutal beatings from the police officers who also instructed prisoners to do the same. Hamer’s injuries left her with kidney damage, a blood clot in her eye, and worsened a physical limp that she would carry for the rest of her life. However, Hamer was undeterred and continued her efforts to expand Black political rights.

...In April 1964, she joined forces with several other activists to establish the Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party, the MFDP. The group challenged the Mississippi all-white Democratic party. In August of 1964, only months after the establishment of the MFDP, Hamer and others traveled to Atlantic City, New Jersey, to attend the Democratic National Convention.

...The experience in Atlantic City transformed Hamer. Although she encountered resistance, she persisted and delivered the most well-known speech of her political career before the Credentials Committee at the Convention. Hamer used her speech to describe the acts of racist violence Black people faced on a daily basis in the Jim Crow South. She told the stories of shots being fired at the homes of those who supported voting rights, and she told the story of what happened to her in Wynona. As she reflected on the painful experiences that Black people face in the South, Hamer could not help but to question America. In her words, is this America, the land of the free and the home of the brave, where we have to sleep with our telephones off the hooks because our lives are threatened daily, because we want to live as decent human beings in America?”1

She was a woman who was inspired by Dr. King, and then inspired Dr. King. They were even known to disagree and push on each other. That is, she was a full collaborator with him in the movement towards freedom. One of many famous quotes by Fannie Lou Hamer is, “If I fall, I’ll fall five feet four inches forward in the fight for freedom. I’m not backing off.” Another great one, one I think we’re going to need in coming days is, “There is one thing you have got to learn about our movement. Three people are better than no people.” Finally, “Nobody’s free until everybody’s free.”

I hadn’t heard of Fannie Lou Hamer in my education, I didn’t learn about her until Shirley Readdean’s daughter Cyndee co-directed “Freedom Summer.” I’m so glad I did learn about her, because she was a living force for good, and I needed to know.

The leaders of the Civil Rights Movement, with their commitments to freedom for all people, to transforming oppression, and to doing so through non-violence carefully followed the Way of Jesus, and the calling of God. We hear in Micah famous words:

[God] has told you, O mortal, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?

It is awe-inspiring how well the Civil Rights Movement embodied this. Dr. King and others preached goodness for oppressors, including in Dr. King’s sermon “Loving Our Enemies”:

Another way that you love your enemy is this: When the opportunity presents itself for you to defeat your enemy, that is the time which you must not do it. There will come a time, in many instances, when the person who hates you most, the person who has misused you most, the person who has gossiped about you most, the person who has spread false rumors about you most, there will come a time when you will have an opportunity to defeat that person. It might be in terms of a recommendation for a job; it might be in terms of helping that person to make some move in life. That’s the time you must do it. That is the meaning of love. In the final analysis, love is not this sentimental something that we talk about. It’s not merely an emotional something. Love is creative, understanding goodwill for all men. It is the refusal to defeat any individual. When you rise to the level of love, of its great beauty and power, you seek only to defeat evil systems. Individuals who happen to be caught up in that system, you love, but you seek to defeat the system..2

As they worked for justice, as they walked with God, they embodied kindness on the deepest levels – calling for true love for those who harmed and oppressed them.

Beloveds, this is a reminder we need. There is no one in the world that we are allowed to discount the humanity of – no one we seek to defeat. We want to change systems, we want to bring freedom, we want to care for the vulnerable, but we aren’t going to get to the kin-dom of God any way but through love – EVEN for those who do immense harm.

No one ever said following Jesus was easy.

Not even Jesus, whose famous Sermon on the Mount blesses those who are struggling with hopes that it will not always be this way. But not with the power to oppress those who oppressed them. The Jesus movement is nonviolent and loving – it isn’t passive, it isn’t willing to let injustice stand, but it is COMMITTED to being nonviolent and loving.

Jesus showed us that the nonviolent love of God could change the world. So too, did the Civil Rights Movement. Today, so too does the Poor People’s Campaign.

Dear ones, in the days to come, I am going to hold on to Fannie Lou Hamer, especially her words, If I fall, I’ll fall five feet four inches forward in the fight for freedom. I’m not backing off.” Whatever comes at us, if we respond with a commitment to justice, to goodness, and to being with God – we can bring good out of ANYTHING. (Eventually.)

May we follow the lead of those who call us to love, to justice, and to nonviolence. They have already shown us the power, we simply get to follow in the way and trust in God. Thanks be to God. Amen

1 Keisha N. Blain, “Fannie Lou Hamer Embodied Martin Luther King, Jr.’s Vision of Courageous Black Leadership” March 02, 2022, found at https://www.beaconbroadside.com/broadside/2022/03/fannie-lou-hamer-embodied-martin-luther-king-jrs-vision-of-courageous-black-leadership.html, on January 15, 2025.

2https://kinginstitute.stanford.edu/king-papers/documents/loving-your-enemies-sermon-delivered-dexter-avenue-baptist-church

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

January 19, 2025

[firstumcschenectady]

“Grounded Hope” based on Luke 1:39-55

Somehow I messed up the order of the Advent Candles this year. They're supposed to be Hope, Peace, Joy, then Love, but we did Peace, Love, Joy, and now hope. Truthfully I copied from a prior year, which likely copied from some lovely liturgy of yet another year, and didn't notice until Louis asked me why on early we were doing Love on week 2. By that point it was too late to change so we left it.

So perhaps I'm just justifying things here, but I also have been thinking that it feels right this year to end on hope. I'm not disparaging love! It is, after all, “the greatest of these things.” It is just that this year, hope seems like the hardest one to come by.

To speak plainly, there are already a whole lot of problems in our country and our world, and we're facing a future with a government who will do intentional harm to the vulnerable. Usually when we think about hope, we think about hope for building the kindom, for making things a little bit better, piece by piece. But right now, we're facing everything getting worse, and it isn't even entirely clear what we hope for.

I'm a big fan of Dr. Emily Nagoski, a writer and pod-caster who thinks deeply and writes clearly. Dr. Nagoskisends out a regular email newsletter that I get, and this July she sent out one on hope. Emily struggles with depression, and she shared that while she's delighted when other people can resonate with Emily Dickinson's poem “hope is the thing with feathers” where nothing can hurt hope, she can't actually access that hope.

Here is an excerpt from that email:

Moral philosopher and author of “How We Hope” Adrienne Martin developed an “incorporation model” that formulates hope as “a desire for an outcome and the belief that the outcome is possible but not certain” and you use your assessment of its possibility as justification for feelings, thoughts, and plans.

Got that? Hope is justifying your feelings, thoughts, and plans based on your assessment that a desired outcome is possible.”1

This definition of hope, where the desired outcome is “possible but not certain” may be why hope see so hard right now. I'd like to hope for an end to hopelessness, but that is a whole lot less likely then “possible but not certain.” I'd like to hope for an end to hunger, but that, too, is a whole lot less likely than possible but not certain.

For Dr. Nagoski, living with chronic depression, assessing what was possible with an optimistic viewpoint became so hard that from her perspective hope died. But, she says, that's not the whole story:

Hope is a sustaining energy, it keeps us working through trials when we’re being challenged, but it is contingent on that assessment of the probability of that desirable outcome.

But there is a noncontingent sustaining energy, which cannot be interfered with by any assessment, no matter how dire, of the probability of a desired outcome.

That noncontingent sustaining energy is an unimaginable hope.

What’s it called, when you have no reason to believe a wanted future may come to pass and yet you continue to work toward it just as if you did believe you could make a difference? What’s the name for that emotion, when you walk toward the world you want, knowing that each next step might be off a cliff?

Adrienne Martin calls it faith.2

Now, to be clear, Dr. Nagoski is an atheist, so her faith may look different than ours, but I found this reflection so startlingly helpful. Because what we are doing now, when we hope for good care for those with disabilities, when we hope for compassionate responses to immigration, when we hope for changes of heart around medical options for trans kids in red states – that's the stuff of “when you have no reason to believe a wanted future may come to pass and yet you continue to work toward it just as if you did believe you could make a difference” That's the stuff of, “when you walk toward the world you want, knowing that each next step might be off a cliff?”

Now, as people of faith, maybe we still get to call this hope, but more like “faith-hope” or “God-hope” or “we'd have no hope in this without trusting God” or just “hope grounded in love” or “grounded hope”? Or some other nuance. But it isn't practical, pragmatic, having assessed the likelihood and deemed it possible sort of hoping we're doing now, when we try to build the kindom of God on earth in this day and age. What we're doing is continuing to love because the world needs love, is practicing peace because only peace begets peace, is seeking joy because joy is resistance, and continuing to work towards building the kindom of God because God has done crazier things than bring justice out of THIS HOT MESS. That is, we hope.

And to a significant degree, what I hear in Luke is pretty similar. Mary and Elizabeth, the too young and the too old, pregnant and shocked and processing, and speaking hope in the faithful God in the midst of the world that was a hot mess.

The Roman Empire at that time had highly concentrated wealth and power, most people felt vulnerable in their positions, so tried to press harder on those below them to stabilized themselves, the masses of people were struggling in life threatening poverty, and the government was trying to control the religious narrative to make itself look good. I know it is all hard to imagine, but do your best. ;)

This young, vulnerable, faithful Mary speaks her faith, her grounded hope, to Elizabeth. She speaks of God's mercy – God's compassion shown to those God could instead choose to punish. She speaks of God's strength – God's capacity to make things happen.

And then she talks about what God does with God's mercy and compassion. Which is, inverses the fortunes of the world. For many people at that time, especially those who were not a part of the Jewish faith (but probably many who were too), it was assumed that those who had power and money had it because they were favored by the gods and “good.” And those who didn't' have things were being punished. Right? That way it looks like the world is fair, if everyone gets what they deserve. (You realize people think this now too, right? Sigh.)

The book of Job, I would say, is one of the ways the Bible fights back against that idea, because even in the Bible there is this tendency to want to justify things by saying all is as God would have it be, so don't mess with the status quo. But, luckily, there are also A LOT of narratives that say God isn't' happy until justice comes, and that's the tradition Mary is drawing on here.

Mary speaks of God lifting up the lowly, bringing down the powerful, filling the hungry, sending the rich away empty, scattering the proud, and fulfilling God's own promises. To have that happen would overthrow the empire, and install in it's place God's own kindom on earth. She is talking about leveling, about making it so everyone can eat, and no one lords over anyone. She is talking about building the kindom on earth.

It makes sense, of course, that these words would be in Mary's mouth to make sense of Jesus. The early Christian community saw all of this happen in Jesus's life, and they used Mary's words as a narrative device to tell people what to pay attention to in his story. (Also, I contend, it makes sense to think of Mary as one who had such faith and was able to teach it to Jesus.)

I think that from the perspective of Mary and Elizabeth, the Roman Empire was immutable. It couldn't be changed, couldn't be toppled, couldn't' be bested. This was probably even MORE true by the time the gospels were written and the destruction of Jerusalem occurred with mass causalities. Moving from that system to justice as God wills it would have looked....

Well, it wasn't “possible but not certain.”

It was much more “when you have no reason to believe a wanted future may come to pass and yet you continue to work toward it just as if you did believe you could make a difference?” In fact, I would go so far as to say that one of the primary points of Jesus's teaching was that we have to work towards the future we want, the kindom of God on earth, as if it is possible because unless we work together on it – IT WILL NOT BE POSSIBLE. Jesus brought the people together and showed them that together they had enough where as apart they did not. Jesus taught them they had power, not the kind of violent power over of the Empire, but the amazing power of connection and love that can change things to make life BETTER.

Beloveds of God, the likelihoods are not in our favor right now. Very little that improves the lives of the vulnerable is going to happen on the federal level in the short run.

Oh well.

God is still God, God is a God of mercy who brings down the mighty and lifts up the lowly and we're working with God on that kindom building project. Our hope is grounded, faithful, and impractical. We do what needs doing even if it isn't likely to bring the outcomes we want. We do it anyway, because we are the people who follow Mary's son. Amen

1 "An Alternative to Hope Or, The Secret Medicine for When the Thing With Feathers Stop Singing” an email from Emily Nagoski on Jul 9, 2024.

2 ibid

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]

"Vulnerability" - 2024 Christmas Dawn Meditation

A lot of theologians like to make a big fuss over Jesus being born a baby. Or, really, over God being born a baby. They talk about infinity becoming finite, about spirit taking on flesh and mortality, about the God of all becoming embodied – and as a tiny baby at that. My conceptions of who Jesus was don't entirely jive with this, but...

It is, in fact, rather awe-inspiring to think of Jesus as a baby. In most of the gospel narratives he is a grown man with profound insight, incredible spirituality, and unusual wisdom. While he didn't possess much power in the ways of the world – he was poor, homeless, and peace-able – he had a lot of the other kinds of power. He was well liked, even loved, by many. He had followers who trusted him, supporters who enabled him, and the kind of faith that can move mountains. His was the power of Love, but he had it in spades, and we are people who believe in the epic power of Love.

But as a baby, he was fully vulnerable. I have been reminded of this, this year, this second time I've picked up a newborn and been responsible for keeping him alive. Babies are 100% dependent on others. They can't eat without help, they need others to change their diapers. They often need to be soothed to sleep, or reminded to wake up. And all that is when everything goes RIGHT.

The funny thing though, is that we're more like babies than we'd like to admit. We, too, are 100% dependent on others. We can't eat without the supply chain enabling food to get to our tables. We can't excrete safely without the work others did on our septic lines. Many of us also need to be soothed to sleep and nearly all of us need alarms to remind us to wake up.

And that's, too, when everything goes right. Because it turns out that being in these finite, mortal, human bodies is ripe with things going wrong. Injury and illnesses plague us. Abilities come and go, and dis-abilities ebb and flow in the opposite direction.

We are so profoundly vulnerable in these bodies of ours.

Many years ago, while serving as an intern hospital chaplain, I had the honor of getting to know a man who was being treated for very serious cancer. He was in isolation even within in the cancer unit because treatment required the complete dismantling of his immune system. (Sadly, this happens more frequently than we'd like to discuss.) His family was too far away to visit, and he was bored and scared. Also, being sick didn't fit his identity. He was, as he said, “a bouncer in the seediest bar in the city.” He wasn't supposed to get SICK.

Bodies. Are. So. Vulnerable.

And nothing we do, nothing we say, nothing we imagine can keep them safe negates their vulnerability.

We're all dependent on each other, we're all in bodies that can't fully be trusted... we're all a lot like that baby placed in the manger – and a whole lot MORE like that baby than I think we'd like to be.

And, in case you hadn't heard it or forgot about it, the mangers at that time were hewn out of the bedrock. To place a baby in a manger was to put the baby BELOW floor level, where anyone could step on him or trip over him in addition to the animals feeding around him. It is a profound metaphor to think of that level of vulnerability for that new baby, one that makes me squirm a little.

Confession, when Isaiah was born I was utterly horrified at the idea of putting him down on his first night on earth, and simply refused to sleep because in my mind he HAD to be held. The nurse – wise woman that she was – responded to me that I HAD to sleep if I was going to recover from the c-section. My best friend, therefore, held Isaiah for his whole first night, so I would sleep without the horror of him being... gasp... in safe bassinet in a hospital. I may resonate a little too much with the concept of placing a baby in a manger! I think that's a hard no.

I think we can take from this Christmas story, and from human life in general, that vulnerability is holy. We may not like it, we may ABSOLUTELY HATE IT, but it is holy. In our vulnerability we are bound to each other by our needs, in our vulnerability we become more open to the Divine, in our vulnerability we learn again and again that God is with us, in our vulnerability we see how little control we have... and hopefully make some peace with it.

The angels sang, the shepherd came, Mary pondered it all in her heart – a baby was born, as vulnerable as any of us, and it was good. So, too, are our fragile, vulnerable existences. It is HOLY to be vulnerable. May God help us. 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

December 25, 2024