Sibling Rivalry

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Sibling Rivalry” Genesis 25:19-34

Sibling rivalry is a form of competition among brothers and sisters. It’s normal and healthy, as long as it doesn’t become destructive to the children involved or their families. Unless we are only children, we all experience it. The newborn infant comes home from the hospital and the older child wants to send him back. Siblings bicker over who gets to sit up front in the car and who has to ride in back. Sisters vie over favorite toys, clothes, or friends. Brothers and sisters compete for top grades, best athletic achievements, greatest popularity, and most awards at graduation. Does any of this sound familiar?

When sibling rivalry is healthy, it can be helpful. As children navigate their relationship with a sibling, they develop social skills that are needed in life. We learn to communicate with one another. We learn to negotiate for what we want and need. That involves compromise, working it out by giving a little and getting a little. It also demands that we learn to share. Communicating, negotiating, compromising, and sharing, mastering those abilities serves us well across our lifespan.

Social scientists tell us that, at its heart, sibling rivalry is the competition for the love, affection, or attention of one or both parents.  When a parent consistently favors one child over another, it fans the flames of sibling rivalry and may drive it in an unhealthy direction. Over half of adults report continued competition with their siblings far into adulthood. Even when healthier bonds are formed, rivalry can reappear later in life, especially when making decisions about aging parents. Does any of this sound familiar?

Our reading from Genesis considers the rivalry between twin brothers Jacob and Esau. Last week, we learned of the promising marriage between Isaac and Rebekah, but twenty years passed without children to bless the union and continue the covenant with God. When Isaac’s prayers were answered and Rebekah’s womb was opened, she wondered if she would survive her pregnancy as the brothers struggled violently within her. We listened in as God reassured the despairing Rebekah that God’s plan was unfolding within her: two nations would be born, each longing to best the other with the younger ultimately rising to ascendancy.

From the start, the brothers were very different. Esau was born first, big, hairy, and red. He would be named accordingly. Esau means hairy, and his nickname Edom means red. Jacob came next, hairless and grabby, reaching out to grasp his brother’s heel, and he would be named accordingly, too.  Ya’aqov means the grabber, the supplanter, the heel, the trickster. Esau was a man of the great outdoors, a hunter. Jacob was a man of the camp, a shepherd. The sibling rivalry that started in Rebekah’s womb was inflamed over the course of childhood as each parent preferentially favored one boy. Isaac doted upon Esau. Rebekah adored Jacob.

This rivalry was further incited by what was at stake for the two boys. Even though they were twins, Esau had a preferential birthright. He was entitled to the bekora, that’s Hebrew for the inheritance of the firstborn, a two thirds share of the inheritance of the family’s wealth. Jacob would only receive one third. Esau would also follow his father as the patriarch of the family, with greater social responsibility and standing. Esau was further entitled to the baraka, that’s Hebrew for blessing—the blessing of the patriarch would be conferred by Isaac to Esau, including the covenant with God.

Jacob wanted what Esau had. First, he exploited his brother’s hunger after a failed hunting trip. A tasty bowl of lentil stew passed as a suitable exchange for the bekora, the birthright. Later, as Father Isaac aged and lost his vision, his preferential love for Esau continued, so Jacob, with the help of his mother, conspired to also steal the baraka. Disguising himself as his hairy twin and tempting his blind father with a savory meat stew, Jacob received the patriarch’s blessing and the generational passing of the covenant. When news of the trickery came to light, Isaac grieved, Esau exploded into murderous rage, and Jacob ran for his life.

Sibling rivalry is a repeated theme of scripture. Firstborn Cain slew his younger brother Abel in a fit of jealousy. Jacob, who was preferentially loved by his mother, would do the same with his boy Joseph, setting up a bitter rivalry among his sons. Generations later, when Israel needed a king, the older sons of Jesse were passed over for younger brother David, whom they saw as a bratty little bragger. Even Jesus had to contend with sibling rivalry among his followers, including two sets of brothers. They sparred repeatedly over who was the greatest, like brothers James and John wrangling with one another over a preferential seat in the coming Kingdom of God.

As only Jesus could, he used the rivalry of his followers to teach a lesson about discipleship. In response to the question of who was the greatest, Jesus placed a child as a role model in the midst of his friends—this was greatness: humility, vulnerability, and obedience. In response to Jame’s and John’s rivalry over preferred status in the Kingdom, Jesus taught his friends that if we wish to be master of all, we must be servant of all. Greatness was found in following him in the way of self-giving, self-sacrificial love.

That wise and wily Jesus! He knew a thing or two about human development. To be a disciple, the childhood spirit of rivalry and our longing to be best-loved must be transformed. Instead of selfish interest, disciples must pursue other-interest. The skills we acquire in the natural course of our sibling rivalries, like communicating, negotiating, compromising, and sharing, aren’t meant to serve only ourselves. Those skills are meant to serve God and the world around us. In truly following Jesus, as our self-interest transforms to other-interest, the hungry are fed, the sick are healed, the stranger is welcomed, and the vulnerable are provided for. As we live fully into our calling as disciples, we forge a world where the bekora and the baraka (the inheritance and the blessing) abound for all God’s children, sisters and brothers all.

This ancient story of the sibling rivalry between Esau and Jacob has something to say to us today. It’s a message for parents to love freely and equally, to see and affirm each child as special and unique. It is also an encouragement to come alongside our children as they cope with rivalry. We can encourage our children to share their feelings. We can teach them strategies for conflict resolution. We can model for them our own healthy communication, reasonable negotiation, compromise, and sharing. We can trust that the healthy lessons learned as children will be a blessing to our sons and daughters at any age.

This ancient story of the sibling rivalry can also be a calling to renewed discipleship. It’s a call to self-examination about core questions. Where must our self-interest and personal preoccupation be tempered by Jesus’ invitation to humility, vulnerability, and obedience? If greatness is found in being servant of all, how are we doing?  Jesus, the beloved Son, forfeited his power and privilege to live among us, love freely, and share abundantly. It’s an example that can move churches and communities past division and nudge us closer to the Kingdom.

Finally, this ancient story of the sibling rivalry is a word to the nations. When our Israelite ancestors told this story they saw in it the rivalry between two neighboring nations. Edom would arise from the descendants of Esau. Israel would emerge from the descendants of Jacob. Throughout their history, Edom and Israel had a tumultuous relationship characterized by both conflict and cooperation. The Edomites were often seen as adversaries, and they occasionally allied with other nations—like the Babylonians—against Israel, leading to military confrontation.

This age-old spirit of rivalry and conflict between nations continues to plague our world. Russia invades Ukraine. Congo and Rwanda wage repeated wars over natural resources. Pakistan and Afghanistan skirmish over borders and militant attacks. Even our nation is at odds with brothers and sisters on the world stage whether we are engineering regime change in Venezuela and Cuba or battling it out in the Straits of Hormuz. Jesus might encourage the nations of the world to transform those sibling rivalries, to put down our weapons and pick up those essential skills that our childhood disputes can foster: healthy communication, reasonable negotiation, compromise, and sharing. Perhaps we could even forge a world where there is bekora and baraka—inheritance and the blessing—for all God’s children. What a world that would be!

Jacob may have sought to steal both inheritance and blessing, but he would end up alienated and exiled from kin and country for twenty years. Both inheritance and blessing would pass from generation to generation in God’s time, at God’s discretion. Both brothers, Jacob and Esau, would be blessed in their own ways. We’ll learn more about that in the coming weeks. Sibling rivalry may be healthy and universal, but let’s learn the lessons it is meant to teach and move on. May we go forth to love generously, follow Jesus more nearly, and build a world where there is bekora and baraka for all. Amen.

Resources:

Claire McCarthy, Howard LeWine, ed. “Sibling Rivalry Is Normal—but Is It Helpful or Harmful?” In Harvard Health Publishing: Pediatric Health, April 15, 2026. Accessed online at health,harvard.edu.

Carole Moore Pfaffly. “Sibling Rivalry” In EBSCO Research Starters, 2024. Accessed online at https://www.ebsco.com/research-starters/psychology/sibling-rivalry

Kathryn Schifferdecker. “Commentary on Genesis 25:19-34” in Preaching This Week, July 16, 2017. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-15/commentary-on-genesis-2519-34-4

Matthew Schlimm. “Commentary on Genesis 25:19-34” in Preaching This Week, July 12, 2026. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-15/commentary-on-genesis-2519-34-7

Valerie Bridgeman. “Commentary on Genesis 25:19-34” in Preaching This Week, July 16, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-15/commentary-on-genesis-2519-34-6

Genesis 25:19-34

19 These are the descendants of Isaac, Abraham’s son: Abraham was the father of Isaac, 20 and Isaac was forty years old when he married Rebekah, daughter of Bethuel the Aramean of Paddan-aram, sister of Laban the Aramean. 21 Isaac prayed to the Lord for his wife because she was barren, and the Lord granted his prayer, and his wife Rebekah conceived. 22 The children struggled together within her, and she said, “If it is to be this way, why do I live?” So she went to inquire of the Lord. 23 And the Lord said to her,

“Two nations are in your womb,
and two peoples born of you shall be divided;
the one shall be stronger than the other;
the elder shall serve the younger.”

24 When her time to give birth was at hand, there were twins in her womb. 25 The first came out red, all his body like a hairy mantle, so they named him Esau. 26 Afterward his brother came out, with his hand gripping Esau’s heel, so he was named Jacob. Isaac was sixty years old when she bore them.

27 When the boys grew up, Esau was a skillful hunter, a man of the field, while Jacob was a quiet man, living in tents. 28 Isaac loved Esau because he was fond of game, but Rebekah loved Jacob.


29 Once when Jacob was cooking a stew, Esau came in from the field, and he was famished. 30 Esau said to Jacob, “Let me eat some of that red stuff, for I am famished!” (Therefore he was called Edom.) 31 Jacob said, “First sell me your birthright.” 32 Esau said, “I am about to die; of what use is a birthright to me?” 33 Jacob said, “Swear to me first.” So he swore to him and sold his birthright to Jacob. 34 Then Jacob gave Esau bread and lentil stew, and he ate and drank and rose and went his way. Thus Esau despised his birthright.

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The Hidden Hand of God

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The Hidden Hand of God” Genesis 24

“I see three.” It was Sheilah, the wife of a retired pastor. Sheilah attended the church where I was serving as an intern. She was a deeply spiritual person, who spearheaded the church’s prayer chain. Sheilah’s most noted and controversial gift was the ability to see angels. That’s right angels, which she perceived as orbs of light surrounding individuals or institutions. The church was struggling with multi-million dollar building projects on the horizon and not much money in the bank. “Don’t worry,” Sheilah told us, “The angels have promised that God will provide.” That sounded like some pie-in-the-sky wishful thinking, but God did provide. A community partnership, an influx of generous gifts, a surprising bequest, and the needed repairs were miraculously accomplished.

Now Sheilah had me in her sights, “I see three angels,” she said, as if this were the most obvious of facts. Apparently, I had a hidden vanguard of angels accompanying me.

I looked around. No visibly discernible orbs of light. “Three? Really? Is that, like, a lot.”

Sheilah wasn’t fazed by my question, “Well, some people have more, some less. They’re there. I promise. They are always with you.”

I found her promise both reassuring and a little creepy. I think I said something lame in response, like “Gee, thanks.” I wished I had Sheilah’s spiritual vision, so that when faced with big and uncertain tasks, like discerning a call to ministry, I could tune-in to angels and trust God’s constant presence.

Genesis 24 tells the story of the search for a bride for Isaac. Abraham’s son had been through a lot. First, his big brother was driven from the camp. Next, his father tried to sacrifice him on Mt. Moriah. But God had acted in dramatic ways in both instances to assure the safety of the banished brother and to stay the hand of his father’s execution. Now, Isaac’s mother Sarah had died. Isaac needed some good news.

The quest for a bride was assigned to the senior-most servant in Abraham’s camp, a man who oversaw the patriarch’s vast herds and accumulated wealth. He was loyal and capable, but the job was big and uncertain. Really, Abraham should have gone himself, but he was old and unwilling to make the 570-mile round-trip journey on camelback. There would be difficulties along the way: no hotels, no rest stops, no gas stations, no police to call if bandits should appear. It would be a long trip to a place that the servant had never seen, and he was in search of a family he had never met, a family that Abraham and Sarah had left behind sixty-two years before. Even if the servant did find the right family, how would he convince a bride to leave home, country, and kin to marry a stranger sight unseen. The poor guy didn’t even have a choice in the matter. Abraham owned him. Imagine the doubt and uncertainty that arose within the servant as he considered the task that Abraham commanded him to undertake.

We are no strangers to big, uncertain tasks. Just ask any parent who has felt the overwhelming sense of responsibility as they brought their newborn home from the hospital. We are no strangers to big, uncertain tasks. Just ask any caregiver who provides support for a beloved one, whether it is a spouse with healthcare needs, a child with disability, or that sandwich generation who provides support for both kids at home and aging parents. We are no strangers to big, uncertain tasks. Just ask anyone who is stepping into a new and weighty endeavor, like jumping to a new job, returning to school, or accepting a big community responsibility. We have all faced duties that feel daunting, maybe even impossible.

Abraham must have known that his servant was feeling a lot like a new parent or an overburdened caregiver or a worker jumping into a different job, because he assured the man that he would not be alone on his big undertaking. The angel of the Lord would go before him. With holy help like that, success was assured. Abraham may have felt certain, but I suspect that the servant felt a little like me when Sheilah said I had three angels on my side—questioning and unsure.

In the Jewish tradition, when the rabbis have read this story of the servant in search of Isaac’s wife, they have seen what they call hester panim. That’s Hebrew for the hidden face of God. Yes, God shows up in scripture as God did when Ishmael was banished and Abraham tried to sacrifice Isaac. God shows up in spectacular, undeniable ways. Yet, God may also be unseen and unheard. Behind the scenes, God’s providential hand is actively guiding outcomes. The Lord is at work, even when we feel that the angels are hidden and God is indiscernible. When faced with those big, uncertain tasks, we can trust that God is there.

We may not be able to see angels up ahead of us, but when faced with those big, uncertain tasks, we can lean-in to the hidden hand of God. Our courage, prayer, and actions can play a role in aligning our purpose with God’s purpose. If we aren’t sure where to begin, we can consider Abraham’s servant and the three steps he took to achieve his daunting mission.

He began with prayer, making a holy vow with Abraham. He prayed again when he reached Aram, “Lord, God of my master Abraham, give me success today, and show kindness to my master.” He went on in prayer, imagining before God a young woman with gifts of kindness and hospitality who would welcome him and his camels. Then, when he found Rebekah, he rejoiced, praising God in prayer.

Big, uncertain tasks need lots of prayer. Prayer to get us started. Prayer when we aren’t sure what’s next. Prayer when the going gets tough. Prayer when things finally come together. Prayer reminds us that we are not alone. Prayer invites the hidden hand of God to be at work. Prayer rejoices in God’s providence. Pray, my friends.

Next, the servant paid careful attention and took appropriate action. Among the women of Nahor who came to the well to draw water, the servant spotted Rebekah, young, beautiful, and strong. All it took was a request for a little water and the servant was drinking from her jug. She then voluntarily offered to water the ten camels. Bible scholars like to point out that a camel can drink between twenty and thirty gallons of water. Rebekah was a worker! The servant could hardly wait to put the bracelets on her wrist, slip the ring in her nose, and visit the family with his master’s proposal.

When we are in the midst of our big, uncertain undertakings, it helps to attend to the moment. We often worry about what is next and ruminate about what has been. But it is the present moment that calls for our attention. When we are grounded in the here and now, we see things as they truly are. We watch for God at work in the earthy details. We see the hand of God in the everyday, ordinary, and mundane. When we are fully present, it is easier to see, to know, and to act. Be present, my friends.

Finally, the servant sought the wisdom of the community. First, he told her father and brother the whole story, and they affirmed his conclusion, “This is the Lord’s doing.” Next, Rebekah chimed in, agreeing to leave everything, return with the servant, and marry a man she had never met. At last, upon return to Canaan, the servant told his story a third time to Isaac, who affirmed the servant’s work by taking Rebekah into his mother’s tent.

We need community as we tackle our big, uncertain tasks. We need others to listen to our story, offer wisdom, and provide affirmation or thoughtful redirection. We need others, who will make time for us and support us. We need folks to hold our dreams and help us stay our course. We need people to offer helping hands and caring smiles. Are we seeking the support of the community my friends?

Abraham’s servant disappeared from scripture after he completed his impossible mission. But I like to imagine that Abraham raised a glass to him at the wedding feast. I like to imagine that Isaac thanked him often for finding the love of his life. I like to think that when Rebekah gave birth to twin boys, the servant felt like a proud uncle. I like to think that when Abraham assigned him his next impossible mission, he took a deep breath and remembered that the hidden hand of God was always at work, and he would be okay.

We have all faced responsibilities that feel daunting, maybe even impossible. I suspect that this week will be no different for any of us. Unless we suddenly develop the holy certainty of Abraham or the angel-vision of Sheilah, we may think we aren’t up to the task. Let’s dare to trust that the hidden hand of God is at work and lean-in with prayer, attention, and the help of the community. We’ve got this—God’s got this.

Resources

Matthew Schlimm. “Commentary on Genesis 24” in Preaching This Week, July 5, 2026. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-14/commentary-on-genesis-2434-38-42-49-58-67-7

Valerie Bridgeman. “Commentary on Genesis 24” in Preaching This Week, July 9, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-14/commentary-on-genesis-2434-38-42-49-58-67-6

Amanda Benckhuysen. “Commentary on Genesis 24” in Preaching This Week, July 5, 2020. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-14/commentary-on-genesis-2434-38-42-49-58-67

Kathryn Schifferdecker. “Commentary on Genesis 24” in Preaching This Week, July 9, 2017. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-14/commentary-on-genesis-2434-38-42-49-58-67-4

Genesis 24

24 Now Abraham was old, advanced in years, and the Lord had blessed Abraham in all things. 2 Abraham said to his servant, the oldest of his house, who had charge of all that he had, “Put your hand under my thigh, 3 and I will make you swear by the Lord, the God of heaven and earth, that you will not get a wife for my son from the daughters of the Canaanites, among whom I live, 4 but will go to my country and to my kindred and get a wife for my son Isaac.” 5 The servant said to him, “Perhaps the woman may not be willing to follow me to this land; must I then take your son back to the land from which you came?” 6 Abraham said to him, “See to it that you do not take my son back there. 7 The Lord, the God of heaven, who took me from my father’s house and from the land of my birth and who spoke to me and swore to me, ‘To your offspring I will give this land,’ he will send his angel before you, and you shall take a wife for my son from there. 8 But if the woman is not willing to follow you, then you will be free from this oath of mine; only you must not take my son back there.” 9 So the servant put his hand under the thigh of Abraham his master and swore to him concerning this matter.

10 Then the servant took ten of his master’s camels and departed, taking all kinds of choice gifts from his master, and he set out and went to Aram-naharaim, to the city of Nahor. 11 He made the camels kneel down outside the city by the well of water; it was toward evening, the time when women go out to draw water. 12 And he said, “O Lord, God of my master Abraham, please grant me success today and show steadfast love to my master Abraham. 13 I am standing here by the spring of water, and the daughters of the townspeople are coming out to draw water. 14 Let the young woman to whom I shall say, ‘Please offer your jar that I may drink,’ and who shall say, ‘Drink, and I will water your camels’—let her be the one whom you have appointed for your servant Isaac. By this I shall know that you have shown steadfast love to my master.”

15 Before he had finished speaking, there was Rebekah, who was born to Bethuel son of Milcah, the wife of Nahor, Abraham’s brother, coming out with her water jar on her shoulder. 16 The young woman was very fair to look upon, a virgin, whom no man had known. She went down to the spring, filled her jar, and came up. 17 Then the servant ran to meet her and said, “Please let me sip a little water from your jar.” 18 “Drink, my lord,” she said and quickly lowered her jar upon her hand and gave him a drink. 19 When she had finished giving him a drink, she said, “I will draw for your camels also, until they have finished drinking.” 20 So she quickly emptied her jar into the trough and ran again to the well to draw, and she drew for all his camels. 21 The man gazed at her in silence to learn whether or not the Lord had made his journey successful.

22 When the camels had finished drinking, the man took a gold nose ring weighing a half shekel and two bracelets for her arms weighing ten gold shekels 23 and said, “Tell me whose daughter you are. Is there room in your father’s house for us to spend the night?” 24 She said to him, “I am the daughter of Bethuel son of Milcah, whom she bore to Nahor.” 25 She added, “We have plenty of straw and fodder and a place to spend the night.” 26 The man bowed his head and worshiped the Lord 27 and said, “Blessed be the Lord, the God of my master Abraham, who has not forsaken his steadfast love and his faithfulness toward my master. As for me, the Lord has led me on the way to the house of my master’s kin.”

28 Then the young woman ran and told her mother’s household about these things. 29 Rebekah had a brother whose name was Laban, and Laban ran out to the man, to the spring. 30 As soon as he had seen the nose ring and the bracelets on his sister’s arms and when he heard the words of his sister Rebekah, “Thus the man spoke to me,” he went to the man, and there he was, standing by the camels at the spring. 31 He said, “Come in, O blessed of the Lord. Why do you stand outside when I have prepared the house and a place for the camels?” 32 So the man came into the house, and Laban unloaded the camels and gave him straw and fodder for the camels and water to wash his feet and the feet of the men who were with him. 33 Then food was set before him to eat, but he said, “I will not eat until I have told my errand.” He said, “Speak on.”

34 So he said, “I am Abraham’s servant. 35 The Lord has greatly blessed my master, and he has become wealthy; he has given him flocks and herds, silver and gold, male and female slaves, camels and donkeys. 36 And Sarah my master’s wife bore a son to my master when she was old, and he has given him all that he has. 37 My master made me swear, saying, ‘You shall not take a wife for my son from the daughters of the Canaanites in whose land I live, 38 but you shall go to my father’s house, to my kindred, and get a wife for my son.’ 39 I said to my master, ‘Perhaps the woman will not follow me.’ 40 But he said to me, ‘The Lord, before whom I walk, will send his angel with you and make your way successful. You shall get a wife for my son from my kindred, from my father’s house. 41 Then you will be free from my oath, when you come to my kindred; even if they will not give her to you, you will be free from my oath.’

42 “I came today to the spring and said, ‘O Lord, God of my master Abraham, if now you will only make successful the way I am going! 43 I am standing here by the spring of water; let the young woman who comes out to draw, to whom I shall say, “Please give me a little water from your jar to drink,” 44 and who will say to me, “Drink, and I will draw for your camels also”—let her be the woman whom the Lord has appointed for my master’s son.’

45 “Before I had finished speaking in my heart, there was Rebekah coming out with her water jar on her shoulder, and she went down to the spring and drew. I said to her, ‘Please let me drink.’ 46 She quickly let down her jar from her shoulder and said, ‘Drink, and I will also water your camels.’ So I drank, and she also watered the camels. 47 Then I asked her, ‘Whose daughter are you?’ She said, ‘The daughter of Bethuel, Nahor’s son, whom Milcah bore to him.’ So I put the ring on her nose and the bracelets on her arms. 48 Then I bowed my head and worshiped the Lord and blessed the Lord, the God of my master Abraham, who had led me by the right way to obtain the daughter of my master’s kinsman for his son. 49 Now then, if you will deal loyally and truly with my master, tell me; and if not, tell me, so that I may turn either to the right hand or to the left.”

50 Then Laban and Bethuel answered, “The thing comes from the Lord; we cannot speak to you anything bad or good. 51 Look, Rebekah is before you, take her and go, and let her be the wife of your master’s son, as the Lord has spoken.”

52 When Abraham’s servant heard their words, he bowed himself to the ground before the Lord. 53 And the servant brought out jewelry of silver and of gold and garments and gave them to Rebekah; he also gave to her brother and to her mother costly ornaments. 54 Then he and the men who were with him ate and drank, and they spent the night there. When they rose in the morning, he said, “Send me back to my master.” 55 Her brother and her mother said, “Let the young woman remain with us a while, at least ten days; after that she may go.” 56 But he said to them, “Do not delay me, since the Lord has made my journey successful; let me go that I may go to my master.” 57 They said, “We will call the young woman and ask her.” 58 And they called Rebekah and said to her, “Will you go with this man?” She said, “I will.” 59 So they sent away their sister Rebekah and her nurse along with Abraham’s servant and his men. 60 And they blessed Rebekah and said to her,

“May you, our sister, become
thousands of myriads;
may your offspring gain possession
of the gates of their foes.”

61 Then Rebekah and her maids rose up, mounted the camels, and followed the man, and the servant took Rebekah and went his way.

62 Now Isaac had come from Beer-lahai-roi and was settled in the Negeb. 63 Isaac went out in the evening to walk in the field, and, looking up, he saw camels coming. 64 And Rebekah looked up, and when she saw Isaac, she slipped quickly from the camel 65 and said to the servant, “Who is the man over there, walking in the field to meet us?” The servant said, “It is my master.” So she took her veil and covered herself. 66 And the servant told Isaac all the things that he had done. 67 Then Isaac brought her into his mother Sarah’s tent. He took Rebekah, and she became his wife, and he loved her. So Isaac was comforted after his mother’s death.

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The Binding

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The Binding” Genesis 22:1-14

There were 532,228 documented cases of child abuse and neglect in the U.S. in 2024, the most recent year for which there is national data. Certainly, many more cases went undocumented. Child abuse encompasses physical, sexual, or emotional abuse, and neglect. Hitting, shaking, or other forms of force; sexual exploitation by a caregiver or trusted adult; shaming, rejecting, or withholding affection; failure to meet a child’s basic needs for food, shelter, medical care, education, and emotional support, all are acts of abuse. Although children who live in poverty face greater risk of abuse than higher-income families, abuse occurs across all demographics, affecting children of every gender, race, ethnicity, and community.

Child abuse has long-lasting effects. In addition to physical injuries that need immediate care, victims of abuse are likely to develop chronic health problems, mental illness, and post-traumatic stress. Abuse compromises the lifelong ability of children to trust and form successful relationships. Abused children may struggle to retain information, recall previously learned material, and sustain focus in school, resulting in lower grades and diminished standardized test scores. Abuse can be passed from generation to generation. Thirty percent of children whose mothers experienced mistreatment as children also experienced abuse or neglect by age twelve.

Disturbingly, religion can be used to justify or perpetrate the mistreatment of children. Scripture like, “Spare the rod and spoil the child,” may be used to support corporal punishment. Some sects may withhold lifesaving medical treatment for religious reasons. Denominations have paid out big settlements to victims of child sexual abuse by predator priests. Corporal punishment may even be justified for purging evil in children. In October 2015, 19-year-old Lucas Leonard died from injuries sustained during repeated and severe beatings at the Word of Life Christian Church in Chadwicks, New York. The beatings were part of “spiritual counseling” for Lucas and his 17-year-old brother Christopher, who wished to leave the church.

Rev. Dr. Donald Capps who taught pastoral care for many years at Princeton Seminary, wrote in A Child’s Song, “This is not a pleasant subject, especially for those of us who have deep personal attachments to the Christian faith. But we dare not avoid the subject, for the abuse of children in the name of religion may well be the most significant reason for why they leave the faith when they are old enough to do so. We must ask ourselves: Who can blame them?”

Let’s be honest. Today’s reading from Genesis describes parental behavior that is undeniably abusive. Last week, we considered a similarly disturbing story from Genesis as Abraham sent his older son Ishmael and lesser wife Hagar off into the wilderness. This week, Abraham heard a holy voice asking the unthinkable. “Abraham, Abraham, take your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering.”

Contemporary people of faith have a hard time understanding why Abraham would pack his bags, sharpen his knife, load up his son with firewood, and set off on a three-day journey to a place of sacrifice. But such sacrifices were common in the Ancient Near East. In Abraham and Sarah’s first home, the Mesopotamian city of Ur, kings killed their sons to petition the gods for long life. In the land of the Phoenicians, the goddess Ashtart cried out to the people, “Give me the burnt offering of your child, and I will favor you.” In Canaan, Ba’al promised worshipers, “Sacrifice your children and I will keep you safe from all evil.” In Moab, the god Chemosh delivered victory in battle for the burnt offering of the king’s son. Even in the later history of Israel, child sacrifice was sometimes practiced. Scripture tells us that Kings Ahaz and Manasseh of Judah sacrificed sons as burnt offerings (2Kings 16:3, 21:6). We may be shocked to consider the request of child sacrifice that God made of Abraham, but for the patriarch, it would simply have been what the gods required of you.

Our Jewish brothers and sisters call this story The Binding. Abraham “bound his son Isaac, and laid him on the altar, on top of the wood.” The Hebrew word for “bind”—akedah—is used only this one time in the Bible. Elsewhere in Midrash and rabbinic literature it is used to describe the ritual binding of an animal for sacrifice. As Abraham wound around Isaac the cords of an oppressive Near Eastern world that demanded the sacrifice of a beloved son, parent and child were bound in a seemingly inescapable cycle of violence and abuse, passed from generation to generation.

As Abraham’s hand reached out to strike with the knife, something unprecedented happened. God said, “No. Abraham, Abraham! Do not lay your hand on the boy or do anything to him.” God would not give the precious gift of a child, and later demand that sacrifice. God’s expectation was that Isaac would grow, find someone to love, and have children to richly bless the world. Abraham unbound Isaac, breaking the cycle of abuse. We can imagine that on the mountaintop there were tears and hugs. The frightened and traumatized Isaac was cradled in the arms of the relieved and grateful Abraham as the patriarch rejoiced, “God does not require this sacrifice.”

In twenty-six years of parish ministry, I have heard many stories of abuse: adults mistreated as children by those who were meant to love and protect them; spouses traumatized by the wounds of physical and emotional abuse; even people who experienced sexual misconduct at the hands of the clergy, scout leaders, and coaches charged with tending the flock. The one thing I always tell them is that God doesn’t want anyone to be abused. It’s right there in scripture. God said, “No,” to the sacrifice of Isaac. Jesus blessed and welcomed children in a time when a high-status rabbi like him would have had nothing to do with kids. Indeed, God sent God’s only son into the world to seek and save us when we are lost—and we nailed him to a cross. God responded to the death of his only son not with violence and abuse, but with love, breaking the cycle of violence, overcoming death, and reaching out with forgiveness. God says a bold and unequivocal, “No,” to the harming of bodies and the wounding of spirits. God says, No.”

As difficult as Genesis 22 is to ponder, it has something important to say to people here and now. It is a bold and corrective word to those who have perpetrated abuse, whether they are parents, teachers, coaches, neighbors, or pastors. Violent tantrums, physical assault, destruction of personal property, name calling, insults, shaming, harassment, sarcasm, and the silent treatment are never justified or acceptable. God says, “No.”

The story of Isaac also speaks a word of comfort to those who have been mistreated and terrified by the people who have been entrusted with their care. Like Isaac, all children are a gift from God, a blessing to their families, communities, and to all generations. God would never demand the sacrifice of a child to violence within the home.  God would never demand the sacrifice of a child to bullying and abuse at school. God would never demand the sacrifice of a child to exploitation and victimization in church. God sees and stands with victims. God longs to stay the hand of abusers.

The Binding of Isaac isn’t just a story for abusers and those who have experienced abuse. It is a story for all of us. Friends, family, and other trusted adults can help end cycles of abuse by developing nurturing, supportive relationships with the children in our lives. Volunteering as a Sunday School teacher or Youth Group helper, mentoring a confirmation student, tutoring a kid who needs homework help, working for the school system on playground duty, or helping out at the Saranac Lake Youth Center, these are all ways to forge nurturing, supportive relationships with the children in our lives and provide safe space where children feel secure and emotionally supported.

We can also come alongside parents who are at-risk for abusive behavior. Be a caring and supportive friend. Consider helping with childcare or household tasks when you see that someone is overwhelmed, stressed out, and needs a break. Employers can embrace workplace policies that help families, such as livable wages, paid leave, and flexible, consistent schedules. We know that families who can meet their basic needs for food, clothing, housing, and transportation, and who can access essential services like childcare, healthcare, and mental health services, are better able to ensure their children’s safety and well-being. That’s why we need to advocate for helping organizations like the food pantry and the Youth Center. That’s why we need to ensure that schools are well-funded and well-staffed and programs like Head Start are available in our community. That’s why we must insist that affordable healthcare is possible for all families.

God, long ago, said, “No!” to child abuse. This morning, we are called to join our, “No!” to God’s, “No!” Ensuring the well-being of children is a holy responsibility. May we go forth to forge a community where all children are seen as a blessing and every home is free from violence and abuse.

Resources

Amanda Benckhuysen. “Commentary on Genesis 22:1-14” in Preaching This Week, June 28, 2020. Accessed online at

Jon Douglas Levensen. The Death and Resurrection of the Beloved Son: the Transformation of Child Sacrifice in Judaism and Christianity.  Binghamton, NY:Vail-Ballou Press, 1993.

Christopher Bergland. “Breaking the Cycle of Childhood Abuse” in Psychology Today, May 1, 2021. Accessed online at https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/the-athletes-way/202105/breaking-the-cycle-of-childhood-abuse

The National Children’s Alliance. “National Statistics on Child Abuse” https://www.nationalchildrensalliance.org/media-room/national-statistics-on-child-abuse/

Janet Heimlich. “What is religious child maltreatment?” Child-Friendly Faith Project. https://childfriendlyfaith.org/what-is-religious-child-maltreatment/

Laila Kearney. “New York Teen Dies after Hours-long Beating at church” in Reuters, October 14, 2015. https://www.reuters.com/article/world/uk/new-york-teen-dies-after-hours-long-beating-at-church-idUSKCN0S82N9/

CDC. “Preventing Child Abuse and Neglect,” May 16, 2024. https://www.cdc.gov/child-abuse-neglect/prevention/index.html

Genesis 22:1-14

22 After these things God tested Abraham. He said to him, “Abraham!” And he said, “Here I am.” 2 He said, “Take your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains that I shall show you.” 3 So Abraham rose early in the morning, saddled his donkey, and took two of his young men with him and his son Isaac; he cut the wood for the burnt offering and set out and went to the place in the distance that God had shown him. 4 On the third day Abraham looked up and saw the place far away. 5 Then Abraham said to his young men, “Stay here with the donkey; the boy and I will go over there; we will worship, and then we will come back to you.” 6 Abraham took the wood of the burnt offering and laid it on his son Isaac, and he himself carried the fire and the knife. And the two of them walked on together. 7 Isaac said to his father Abraham, “Father!” And he said, “Here I am, my son.” He said, “The fire and the wood are here, but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?” 8 Abraham said, “God himself will provide the lamb for a burnt offering, my son.” And the two of them walked on together.

9 When they came to the place that God had shown him, Abraham built an altar there and laid the wood in order. He bound his son Isaac and laid him on the altar on top of the wood. 10 Then Abraham reached out his hand and took the knife to kill his son. 11 But the angel of the Lord called to him from heaven and said, “Abraham, Abraham!” And he said, “Here I am.” 12 He said, “Do not lay your hand on the boy or do anything to him, for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from me.” 13 And Abraham looked up and saw a ram, caught in a thicket by its horns. Abraham went and took the ram and offered it up as a burnt offering instead of his son. 14 So Abraham called that place “The Lord will provide,” as it is said to this day, “On the mount of the Lord it shall be provided.

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God Who Hears

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “God Who Hears” Genesis 21:8-21

Children are crying.

Children are crying in Malawi this morning. One of the least developed nations in the world, more than 70% of Malawi’s people live in poverty. 69% of Malawians have access to clean water, thanks to initiatives like the shallow well program, but the country lags woefully behind in sanitation. Only 26% of Malawians have access to essential sanitation, like toilets and sewers. Only 9% have access to resources for basic hygiene, like running water, showers, or baths.

For many children, food scarcity means chronic hunger. 37% of Malawi’s children experience stunting—they don’t receive sufficient nutrition for the development of their bodies and brains. Malnutrition affects health. 40,000 of Malawi’s children under five die each year from preventable and treatable diseases. 39% of Malawi’s children, some as young as 5-years-old, work to help provide for their families. Economic pressure means that children are pushed into early marriages. About half of all girls are married before their 18th birthday. That may explain why Malawi’s premature births and maternal deaths are among the highest in the world.

Children are crying.

Children are crying in our nation this morning. 10.35 million of America’s children live in poverty—that’s 14.3% of our children. Even more children—14.1 million—live in families that contend with food insecurity—not enough monthly income to ensure that nutritious food is consistently on the table. They depend on local food pantries and school lunch programs. Those numbers are worse here in the North Country. 20.1% of Franklin County’s children—that’s one in five kids—live in poverty.

Poverty detrimentally shapes the future of our children. They do not receive adequate medical care and have poorer health outcomes that will affect their well-being for a lifetime. 70% of fourth graders who live in poverty are unable to read at their grade level. 73% of eighth graders who live in poverty are not proficient in math. They are significantly less likely to graduate from high school. As adults, they will earn less money than their prosperous peers, perpetuating a cycle of generational poverty.

Mothers living in poverty in America often describe their struggle as a constant, invisible battle that shapes their children’s lives. In the documentary Born Poor, one mother told her 10-year-old daughter, “When we can’t afford to pay our bills, like, our house bills and stuff, I’m afraid, like, we’ll get homeless… You never know what’ll happen in your life.” Children living in poverty often know exactly when bills are due or when food is scarce. They describe “always worrying” about whether the electricity will get cut off or if there will be enough dinner. They feel embarrassed and hide their living situation from peers. They miss out on typical childhood experiences—sports, camps, and family vacations.

Ishmael was crying.

In our reading from Genesis 21, God heard the cry of young Ishmael. Just the day before, the child was celebrating the weaning of his little brother Isaac. As the firstborn son by Abraham’s lesser wife Hagar, Ishmael was his father’s heir, destined to inherit a double-share of property, possessions, and blessing. But as the family rejoiced and the boys played, Sarah, Abraham’s first wife, watched Ishmael and Isaac laughing together. One boy was already strong and bold; the other boy was just taking his first steps toward independence. As Sarah watched, jealousy like a dark beast rose within her heart. God’s promise didn’t seem big enough for both children. Why should her child Isaac, the child long-promised by God, share with the child of her maidservant Hagar? Sarah asserted her authority as first wife. Hagar and Ishmael had to go.

Scripture tells us that Abraham found the matter—this banishment and disowning of Ishmael and Hagar—“very distressing” (v. 11). A closer reading of the Hebrew here suggests that Abraham found Sarah’s ultimatum “very bad” or “morally wrong” in his eyes. Abraham knew that what Sarah asked him to do was not right, yet he did it anyway. He sent Hagar and Ishmael into the Wilderness of Beer-sheba. When the food was gone and the water ran out, Hagar despaired and Ishmael cried.

In a world where Sarah wished to claim God’s blessing for Isaac alone, we learn that God hears the cries of people like Ishmael, like Hagar, people who have been pushed out of the blessing and sent forth to live at the margins. Prof. Carolyn Helsel, who teaches at Austin Presbyterian Seminary, points out that the Hebrew verb used for “hear”—shema—describes a listening that leads to action. God heard Ishmael’s cries and took action in response, making of him a great nation. God hears, God acts, God blesses.

Children are crying.

Do we hear the children crying, my friends? It’s “very distressing,” the cries of Malawi’s children. It’s “very distressing,” the day-to-day circumstances of a country where 70% of people live in poverty, children are stunted, and basic sanitation is a luxury unknown to most households. Tyler Holm and Rochelle Holm have lived in Malawi for 14 years. They first began serving there through short-term mission trips in 2008, but they fell in love with the land and the people. They moved to Malawi permanently at the end of 2012 as Presbyterian Mission Co-workers, serving at Mzuzu University and the Church of Central Africa Presbyterian (CCAP). The next year, they adopted their daughter Mphatso, one of Malawi’s orphans. Tyler teaches at the University of Livingstonia and Rochelle manages the Centre of Excellence in Water and Sanitation at Mzuzu University. The Holms are deeply committed to making a helping and healing difference in Malawi through education and improved sanitation. They hear the cries of Malawi’s children and believe that God provides enough blessing for all people, even the vulnerable children of Malawi. Our Father’s Day offering today will support their life-changing work.

Children are crying.

It’s “very distressing,” you might say morally wrong, that in this nation of amazing bounty more than ten million of our children live in poverty. It’s “very distressing” that right here in Franklin County 20% of our kids face the everyday worry, fear, and shame that come from growing up in homes with more month than money. If we are feeling the pinch at the gas pump and the grocery checkout, imagine how families that were already struggling feel. Our friends in the Community Schools program report that the number of Petrova kids who participate in the weekly backpack program (taking home food to help on the weekends when they don’t have school lunches) has soared this school year from 49 households in the fall to 89 as the school year ends.

Can we hear the children crying? Can we believe that in this land of goodness, God’s blessing is for all children, even the Ishmael’s, even our neighbors who live in poverty? Or will we insist that there isn’t enough blessing to go around and some are meant to wander in the wilderness?

I know we believe that God’s blessing is for all. That’s why we set aside two-cents-a-meal for the Food Pantry, and we have made a beautiful home for the pantry, right here at church. That’s why we grow those healthy, organic vegetables at the Jubilee Garden and host a free farm stand in the churchyard. That’s why Coral keeps the little food pantry in Bloomingdale well-stocked. That’s why we cook for the Community lunchbox, play music at the Wednesday supper, and deliver meals for Meals on Wheels.

One of the surprising learnings of the pandemic is that we can end childhood poverty in this country—if we want to. The expansion of the Child Tax Credit in 2021 dropped the national childhood poverty rate to 5.2% and lifted millions of children out of poverty. When the credit expired, childhood poverty returned to pre-pandemic levels with growing food insecurity, housing instability, and limited healthcare. We have the wherewithal to level the playing field and change the experience of our impoverished children, but we do not have the national will.

Children are crying.

Jesus who welcomes and blesses the children, God who hears the cries of Ishmael, the Lord who continues to listen and act on behalf of those who are cast out might tell us that our complacency with child poverty is “greatly distressing.” God might even say it is morally wrong. God still listens for the voices of children who bear the burden of want and need, and God calls us to stand with them. There is plenty of love and blessing to go around, my friends. Will we hear, will we act, will we bless?

Resources

American Psychological Association. “Mental health effects of poverty, hunger, and homelessness on children and teens,” May 2024. Accessed online at https://www.apa.org/topics/socioeconomic-status/poverty-hunger-homelessness-children

“Child Poverty Statistics in US 2026 | Rates, States & Facts,” The World Data, April 28, 2026. Accessed online at https://theworlddata.com/child-poverty-statistics-in-us/

US Census Bureau. Small Area Income and Poverty Estimates, Accessed online at https://fred.stlouisfed.org/series/PPU18NY36033A156NCEN

Unicef. “The situation of children and women in Malawi.” Accessed online at  https://www.unicef.org/malawi/situation-children-and-women-malawi

Amanda Benckhuysen. “Commentary on Genesis 21:8-21” in Preaching This Week, June 21, 2020. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-12/commentary-on-genesis-218-21

Carolyn B. Helsel. “Commentary on Genesis 21:8-21” in Preaching This Week, June 25, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-12/commentary-on-genesis-218-21-5

Vanessa Lovelace, “Commentary on Genesis 21:8-21” in Preaching This Week, June 21, 2026. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-12/commentary-on-genesis-218-21-6

Genesis 21:8-21

8 The child grew and was weaned, and Abraham made a great feast on the day that Isaac was weaned. 9 But Sarah saw the son of Hagar the Egyptian, whom she had borne to Abraham, playing with her son Isaac. 10 So she said to Abraham, “Cast out this slave woman with her son, for the son of this slave woman shall not inherit along with my son Isaac.” 11 The matter was very distressing to Abraham on account of his son. 12 But God said to Abraham, “Do not be distressed because of the boy and because of your slave woman; whatever Sarah says to you, do as she tells you, for it is through Isaac that offspring shall be named for you. 13 As for the son of the slave woman, I will make a nation of him also, because he is your offspring.” 14 So Abraham rose early in the morning and took bread and a skin of water and gave it to Hagar, putting it on her shoulder, along with the child, and sent her away. And she departed and wandered about in the wilderness of Beer-sheba.

15 When the water in the skin was gone, she cast the child under one of the bushes. 16 Then she went and sat down opposite him a good way off, about the distance of a bowshot, for she said, “Do not let me look on the death of the child.” And as she sat opposite him, she lifted up her voice and wept. 17 And God heard the voice of the boy, and the angel of God called to Hagar from heaven and said to her, “What troubles you, Hagar? Do not be afraid, for God has heard the voice of the boy where he is. 18 Come, lift up the boy and hold him fast with your hand, for I will make a great nation of him.” 19 Then God opened her eyes, and she saw a well of water. She went and filled the skin with water and gave the boy a drink.

20 God was with the boy, and he grew up; he lived in the wilderness and became an expert with the bow. 21 He lived in the wilderness of Paran, and his mother got a wife for him from the land of Egypt.

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Scandalous Company

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Scandalous Company” Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26

He was scandalous, that miserable Matthew. All day long, he sat in his roadside tent outside Capernaum along the busy highway, the Way of the Sea, the great Roman road that stretched from Egypt to Damascus. For good reason, Matthew was little loved by his neighbors. He paid a pretty price to the Romans for the right to collect taxes, to charge a toll for the use of the highway. Matthew prospered, not just by collecting the taxes due to the Romans, but also from adding a tidy surcharge for his personal benefit. To his neighbors, Matthew was everything that had gone wrong with Israel: a filthy Roman collaborator, grown rich from fleecing his own people, rendered unclean and undesirable as a result of his unethical business practice and his constant contact with Gentiles. 

They were scandalous, not at all the sort of company that any respectable rabbi would keep. You know the sort I’m talking about, sinners and outcasts, folks known far and wide for their moral and ethical failure. It wasn’t just the tax collector. Oh no. It was the merchant who liked to keep his thumb on the scale, the farmer who maximized his profits by oppressing his workers, the older husband who kept a sweet young thing on the side, the son who neglected his aging parents, the drinker who never made it to sabbath services. They weren’t the “right” kind of people. Indeed, sharing a meal with that crowd was a surefire way for any rabbi to be labeled a glutton, a drunkard, and fellow sinner.

She was scandalous. There are no real secrets in a village, and when she first began to suffer from her problem down there, folks shook their heads and clucked their tongues. After all, a malady like that, going on and on and on, month after month, could only be an affliction sent by the Lord. They didn’t know what she had done to bring it on herself, but it must have been pretty salacious. For 12 years she was afflicted, suffering from the pain and debilitation of her illness. Everyone knew that Leviticus 15 told women like her to stay home, avoiding contact with neighbors and even family, but there she was elbowing her way through the crowd, rendering everyone she touched unclean.

We are scandalous. Like Matthew, we have valued a buck more than our neighbors. We have pursued the politics of expedience. We held our noses and forged alliances that feathered our nests or suited our ends, even when we knew it was wrong. We love the almighty dollar. Don’t mess with our 401-k. We want to know what is in it for us.

We are scandalous. Like those sinners and outcasts, we pick and choose the commandments that we wish to keep. We think that our drinking or drugging or infidelity isn’t a problem if we can keep it on the down low. We’ll fulfil those obligations to family next week—or maybe the week after. If our minimum wage workers really wanted to make more money, they’d do something about it—get more school, pull up the old bootstraps, get up the gumption to leave. We justify the ethical corners that we cut.

We are scandalous. Like the hemorrhaging woman, we have allowed ourselves to be blamed for things far beyond our control. We bear the sins of our fathers and mothers like a coat of shame. We allow people to tell us that our cancer can be cured if only we will eat a cleaner diet, or we wouldn’t have diabetes if we hadn’t gotten so darned fat. We have allowed others to define us with mean-spirited gossip and outdated perceptions, to ostracize us and turn us into outsiders. We have refused to stand up for ourselves.

If Jesus were a prudent rabbi, he would have sent one of his disciples into Matthew’s tent and avoided the man entirely. But Jesus didn’t do that. Instead, as Jesus waited his turn to pay his tax and watched Matthew assess fees and count coins, he didn’t see a tax collector, he saw a disciple. So, Jesus extended an invitation, “Matthew, won’t you leave your tax table and follow me?” And for Matthew, it was perhaps as if a shaft of light pierced the veil that shrouded his heart. Matthew knew that God loved him. God longed to be reconciled with him and put him to work. Matthew left the coins on the table, turned his back to the tollbooth, and walked away to a life of discipleship.

If Jesus were a prudent rabbi, he never would have accepted those dinner invitations, but he did. There he was, reclining next to sinners, dipping his hand into the same bowl with them, and you know what they say, “Birds of a feather.” But when Jesus looked at sinners and outsiders, he saw neighbors, who for years had hovered at the margins of Israel, somewhere above Gentile dogs and below observant Jews. He saw sheep in need of a shepherd, in need of second and third chances. And so, he broke the bread, lifted the cup, welcomed the lost, and there was great rejoicing.

If Jesus were a prudent rabbi, he would have ignored the hemorrhaging woman and kept on walking. But as her fingers reached out to touch the fringe of his robe, he stopped. He turned. He knew her affliction. He knew the desperation it had taken to wrap herself in a shawl, leave her home, and walk among her neighbors with the hope of stealing a little healing. Her neighbors said she was unclean, but when Jesus looked at this frightened and suffering woman, he saw a daughter, a sister, a woman of bold faith and brave courage. She returned home with a light and joyous step, healed, whole, and free from suffering.

We are scandalous. We’ve gotten things so wrong, we wonder if they can ever be made right. We long for a God who can look beyond our sin and suffering to see us for who we truly are. We need a savior who believes that that we can be good and honorable and pleasing to God. Jesus knew that God’s love is always surprising and challenging, always greater than we can ever possibly imagine.

Jesus sees us this morning. He calls us disciple, neighbor, daughter, son. We are a scandalous company, my friends, but that is just the sort of company that Jesus chose to keep. Thanks be to God.

Resources:

Cleophus LaRue. “Commentary on Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26” in Preaching This Week, June 11, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-10/commentary-on-matthew-99-13-18-26-2

Danny Zacharias. “Commentary on Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26” in Preaching This Week, June 7, 2026. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-10/commentary-on-matthew-99-13-18-26-3

Greg Carey. “Commentary on Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26” in Preaching This Week, June 8, 2008. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-10/commentary-on-matthew-99-13-18-26

Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26

9 As Jesus was walking along, he saw a man called Matthew sitting at the tax-collection station, and he said to him, “Follow me.” And he got up and followed him.

10 And as he sat at dinner in the house, many tax collectors and sinners came and were sitting with Jesus and his disciples. 11 When the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” 12 But when he heard this, he said, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. 13 Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ For I have not come to call the righteous but sinners.”

18 While he was saying these things to them, suddenly a leader came in and knelt before him, saying, “My daughter has just died, but come and lay your hand on her, and she will live.” 19 And Jesus got up and followed him, with his disciples. 20 Then suddenly a woman who had been suffering from a flow of blood for twelve years came up behind him and touched the fringe of his cloak, 21 for she was saying to herself, “If I only touch his cloak, I will be made well.” 22 Jesus turned, and seeing her he said, “Take heart, daughter; your faith has made you well.” And the woman was made well from that moment. 23 When Jesus came to the leader’s house and saw the flute players and the crowd making a commotion, 24 he said, “Go away, for the girl is not dead but sleeping.” And they laughed at him. 25 But when the crowd had been put outside, he went in and took her by the hand, and the girl got up. 26 And the report of this spread through all of that district.

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With You Always

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “With You Always” Matthew 28:16-20

The disciples felt both overwhelmed and a little scared after their mountaintop meeting with Jesus. As the risen Lord said goodbye to his friends, he entrusted them with the continuation of his ministry. “Go and make disciples of all people,” Jesus said, “Baptize and teach!”

The disciples looked at one another, feeling the sudden weight of responsibility. If the good news of God’s love was going to go forth into the world, then they were the ones who must take it. It was a big job, and they weren’t sure they could do it. Andrew shook his head, the way he always did when he had a big question that he couldn’t possibly answer, “Did Jesus say we should make disciples? I thought we were the disciples!  Surely, Jesus doesn’t think we’re ready to do what he did.”

As Jesus’ commission and Andrew’s question sank in, the disciples felt a little panicky. They didn’t have what it would take. There wasn’t a Torah scholar among them. They didn’t have any powerful political connections. Not one drop of priestly blood flowed in their veins, and their name was mud in the Temple. They were a sorry lot, and no one had the deep pockets to bankroll their efforts. And, to be honest, they didn’t have the best track record when it came to following Jesus. One of them betrayed him. All of them deserted him. Peter denied him—three times. Even now, some of them were filled with doubt. This Great Commission, how would they begin? They were ready to give up before they even got started.

Maybe it was then that Peter spoke up, “I remember when Jesus called Andrew and me.  We were fishing, and Jesus came along the lakeshore and said, ‘I will teach you to catch people.’” Then, James and John reminisced, “We were mending nets with our father when Jesus said, ‘Follow me!’” Nathanael told them that Jesus saw him under a fig tree and said “Here is truly an Israelite.” He really hadn’t known what that even meant at the time, but he wanted to find out. Matthew confessed, “I was sitting in my tent counting money, but Jesus told me he had a different kingdom that he wanted me to serve. I left to follow him the same day.”

The disciples remembered how each of them came to follow Jesus. All Jesus did was make the invitation, and each of them had answered, “Yes.” “You know,” Peter said, “we can do that! Let’s just invite people, lots of people. Some of them are bound to say yes.”

The pragmatist Thomas spoke up next, “So, we invite all these people, and they decide to follow us. What are we supposed to do with them next?”

Peter suddenly looked very worried at the prospect of being followed by a crowd of strangers who expected him to know what to do. He put his hands to his head and said, “O Lord, help us!”

But Simon the Zealot, a natural risk taker who was undaunted by challenge, shouted, “Yes, Peter! That’s it! We begin with prayer! We ask the Lord to help us. We pray—and we teach others to pray.”

The disciples remembered all the times that they woke up early in the morning and found Jesus in a quiet place, head bowed in prayer. They recalled how Jesus called them to pray and find rest on the mountaintop or in the wilderness. Then it occurred to them that Jesus had taught them to pray—it was simple and short and to the point—it was so easy that even they could ground their work in that sort of prayer. All at once they prayed together, “Our Father, who art in heaven!”

“What do you think we should teach our disciples?” Bartholomew wondered. 

Peter, whose conscience was bothering him about the three times he denied Jesus, knew the answer. “I think we need to teach them about forgiveness.” Matthew agreed, “Forgiveness! Yes! There I was a tax collector, stealing from my own people, but Jesus called me and forgave me!” The disciples agreed. If they were going to make disciples, they could help people understand that Jesus met people right where they were at. He forgave their mistakes and flaws and short comings. Jesus believed they could lead new, more faithful lives.

Mary the mother of the Lord spoke up then, saying, “Even as my son was dying, he prayed for his executioners, ‘Father, forgive them!’” At that they all bowed their heads and thought about the people whom they needed to forgive as soon as they got down off the mountain.

It was Mary Magdalene who spoke next, “If we want to encourage people to be followers of Jesus, then we must teach them to be compassionate, to specially care for the most vulnerable of our neighbors. I was so sick that people said I was possessed by seven demons, but Jesus made me well. I will share my story to teach others of the compassion of Christ.”

The disciples remembered Jesus’ compassion: 10 lepers made clean, hungry people fed, a blind man whose eyes were opened, a deaf man given ears to hear, and so many little children welcomed and blessed.  They all agreed: telling those stories and setting a compassionate example could encourage others to be compassionate, too. Everyone turned and smiled at Mary Magdalene, “Yes, compassion!  How wise you are sister.”

“Wait a minute!” It was Thomas again. “Have we thought about who these new disciples are going to be? Are we talking friends, neighbors, co-workers, strangers?  I need a little clarity here.”

The disciples thought. One spoke up, “Well, I know someone who struggles with crippling guilt for a past mistake. He needs a lesson in forgiveness. I’m going to ask him.” Another said, “I have a cousin who despairs of life. She doesn’t know she is beloved. I’ll ask her.” James remembered, “I have an old fishing buddy. He has fallen on such hard times. He is in deep need of some compassion. I shall invite him!” Simon the Zealot, who always felt a bit like an outsider said, “We have to remember the outsiders! Don’t forget that Jesus reached out to unlikely people, like that Samaritan woman and the centurion’s slave.” They decided that if they were going to follow in Jesus’ footsteps, they would welcome all people, even the ones who made them feel uncomfortable.

The disciples were feeling pretty good until they realized that they didn’t have many resources for their teaching, no hand-lettered vellum scrolls of the Torah, no rabbinic shul, no posh retreat center on the shores of Galilee. It was a tense moment, until they realized that Jesus hadn’t needed all that. He taught on hillsides and lakeshores, in homes and gardens, and even while sitting in a boat. Jesus simply taught wherever he was. And Jesus used the world around him to make his point. Tiny mustard seeds proved that improbable disciples could do big things. Lilies of the field taught them not to worry. Birds of the air were a reminder of God’s incredible love for them.

The disciples looked at the world around them and saw the everyday tools they would use in teaching. Judas the son of James struck a spark with a flint and said, “We are the light of the world!” Mary Magdalene pretended to knead bread and quoted, “The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed in with three measures of flour.” Not to be outdone, Peter scrambled up on top of a big stone, flexed his muscles, and said, “This is the rock upon which Christ will build the church!” Everyone laughed and pulled Peter down from his rocky highpoint.

They looked down from the mountaintop, at the world spread out at their feet. Far below them, they saw the checkerboard fields of farms. Off to the east they could make out busy fishing villages along the shores of Galilee. Off to the west, wrapped in haze, seaports dotted the Mediterranean coast and harbors bustled with the trade of empire. Off in the distance to the north rose the mountains of Lebanon, with Mt. Hermon’s snowy peak towering high above them all. Somewhere out there, past the Jordan Valley and the Great Salt Sea, were the sprawling windswept sands of the desert. It was, indeed, a dazzling, diverse, beautiful, terrible world out there. They had a big job to do. It wouldn’t be easy, but together they saw that they could do it.

Thomas shrugged off his doubts and stood tall. He had the last word. “I don’t know if I am up to this job, but Jesus is with us always—to the end of the age. Let’s make disciples!” They packed their gear and headed down to the waiting world below.

Go therefore, my friends. Make disciples of all people. Baptize them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Teach them to observe everything that Jesus has commanded us. And remember, Jesus is with us always, even to the end of the age.

Matthew 28:16-20

16 Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. 17 When they saw him, they worshiped him, but they doubted. 18 And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. 19 Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit 20 and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

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On All Flesh

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “On All Flesh” Acts 2:1-18

People around the world are learning other languages with the help of Duolingo. The free downloadable app is best known for its mascot Duo, a bright green cartoon owl who flaps his wings and wiggles his tail feathers when you complete a particularly successful lesson. 103 million people use Duolingo monthly. 33 million people use it daily. The app combines short, engaging lessons with game-like elements to help users develop skills in 41 languages. Half of users practice English while others learn widely-spoken languages like Spanish and Chinese, as well as lesser-spoken languages, like Esperanto, Navajo, and even High Valyrian, a fictional language developed for HBO’s “Game of Thrones.”

I began using Duolingo last year by learning Portuguese in anticipation of our walk on the Camino de Santiago. In a short amount of time, I knew some basic phrases that would allow me to greet others, order from a menu, and ask directions. In Portugal, my language efforts were sometimes met with puzzled stares or even gentle corrections. I eventually determined that the Portuguese I was learning with Duolingo was new-world Portuguese—Brazilian—which has decidedly different pronunciations and cadences from its old-world cousin. So much for my preparation.

Despite those new world – old world differences, my fledgling attempts to communicate were generally met with big smiles and enthusiastic efforts to respond. It was good for me to take the risk of learning another language, and it was good for others that an American would respect their culture and honor their ways by taking embarrassing baby steps in communication. Lately, I’ve been using Duolingo to brush up on my German skills, which I hope are a little more comprehensible than my Portuguese.

On Pentecost, the disciples learned the importance of speaking other languages. The Spirit of God moved among them with the rush of a violent wind and dancing tongues of flame. It was like God speaking out of the whirlwind to the frightened Job. It was like the Lord enveloping Moses on the mountaintop at Sinai with smoke and holy fire. It was like nothing they had imagined—terrifying, mystifying, and enlivening, all at the same time. The Spirit of God that filled them compelled them to get up and go out into the streets of the Jerusalem, to mingle with a diverse crowd of people who were on their way to the Temple for the Feast of Weeks.

The crowd that the disciples encountered reflected the diversity of first century Judaism. Those tongue-twisting nationalities that I read earlier were a legacy of diaspora. Other nations from the Egyptians to the Assyrians, from the Babylonians to the Persians, from Greece to Rome had conquered Israel over the eons and sent the Israelites to the far corners of their empires. The disciples would have encountered other differences in the crowd, too. Some, like the Sadducees, Pharisees, and Essenes had fundamentally differing understandings of scripture. Others had vast political differences, like the Herodians, who supported the Roman-appointed monarchy, and the Zealots, who longed to tear it all down. Even before Pentecost, the disciples must have worried that the great challenge of taking the gospel out into the world would be communication. How would they meet people where they were at and bridge those profound differences in languages, opinions, and outlooks?

We are no strangers to diversity. We are first nations people, like the Haudenosaunee, who have always called this land home. We came seeking religious freedom or economic opportunity. We came fleeing persecution and ethnic cleansing. We were brought here against our will, enslaved and trafficked across the middle passage. We were imported from China to build a cross-continental railroad, but we weren’t allowed to bring our families. We are Christians and Jews, Hindus and Sikhs, Muslims and Atheists. We are the 99% and the 1%. We never made it through high school, we have a GED, we worked our way through college, we took on big debt for grad school. We are smalltown and big city. We run the ‘burbs and crave the wilderness. Our differences are a blessing.

Yet difference can be a challenge. We want everyone to be like us. We are threatened by different opinions. We think there isn’t enough room in our American dream for all people. We fear the stranger. We view one another as the enemy. Those on the left condescendingly label anyone who questions their views as ill-informed, ignorant, deplorables, Bible-thumpers, Trumpers, and gun nuts. Those on the right, sporting their own healthy dose of moral indignation, label anyone who questions their views as Dumocrats, libtards, elitists, extremists, commies, fringe, and un-American. Our differences become difficulty when we stop truly communicating. Clearly, we need to find some different ways to use language in our world today.

On Pentecost, the disciples, with the help of the Holy Spirit, learned to speak other languages. They were changed. Their focus shifted from the Upper Room to the world out there. And as the Spirit sent them out into the streets, they were enabled to communicate with others whom they had probably never associated with before, those whom they had looked past or ignored, those whom they had written off as “other.” Their minds were freed and their tongues were loosed to speak, to connect.

And as the Spirit loosed the tongues of the disciples, the Spirit opened the ears of those diverse listeners. On the tongues of strangers, they heard the sounds of home, long ago and far away. They felt the promise of acceptance and belonging. As they stopped and listened, they marveled that they were seen and sought out. They felt included and valued. They stopped feeling like strangers and resident aliens, and they began to feel like a community.

Peter, who so often misunderstood what Jesus was saying, finally got it. This blended community, this honoring of other cultures and other gifts, this acceptance of difference, it had been God’s plan all along. It was just like the vision of the Prophet Joel, who anticipated the coming of God’s Kingdom with the outpouring of God’s Spirit upon all flesh. Young and old, male and female, slaves and freeborn. All would know the indwelling of the Spirit and God’s best hope for the salvation and redemption of all people.

That’s when Peter got his preach on. Hearts were touched as he told the story of a Messiah who helped and healed and welcomed, who turned the other cheek and cared for the outcast, who gave his life as a sign of God’s love for all people. As Peter preached under the influence of the Spirit, divisions were overcome, love was known, and more than 3,000 people decided that they wanted to be part of that beautiful Kingdom where all people are united in God’s love and purpose.

Oh Pentecost! The Spirit falls upon us today, and we hear God’s wisdom for our world. We may be spending 30 minutes-a-day learning High Valyrian on Duolingo, but are we having the conversations that will bridge the divides in our communities and nation? If the disciples had stayed in their upper room enjoying growing language facility with one another, there never would have been change. There never would have been healing and growth. It’s easy for us to speak to the same people. It’s easy for us to view or read the same news sources, the ones that reinforce our world view and assure us of our rightness. But on Pentecost, the Holy Spirit might compel us otherwise, to leave the upper room, to step beyond the place of comfortable seclusion. The Spirit would invite us to engage that diverse world out there, to seek to speak the language of the other, to sincerely engage, and not simply insist upon the rightness of our own convictions.

Pentecost calls us to see that hate and division are not part of God’s plan for humanity. The rejection of others that has become endemic in our world today won’t build bridges. Can we dare to imagine that the Spirit can work in others even as it works in us? Can we remember the holy promise that the Spirit is poured out upon all flesh, all people—men and women, young and old, slave and free, rich and poor, broken and whole, sinners and saints, doubters and believers. If we can begin to accept that, then we must look for the moments that allow genuine engagement to happen.

We wonder, “What that could possibly look like?” With the Spirit’s influence, I suspect it will look a lot like Jesus. It will look like Jesus, who welcomed sinners and dined with Pharisees. It will look like Jesus, who taught women, blessed children, and included both zealots and tax collectors as his disciples. It will look like Jesus who taught that the Kingdom of God is always all around us, waiting to be realized. It will look like Jesus, who baptizes us in the Spirit.

It won’t be easy, my friends. Learning another language never is. It takes practice and discipline. Just ask the 33 million people who are practicing with Duolingo daily. But as we go forth to communicate in new and uncomfortable ways, we can trust that the Spirit who dwells within us will guide us. We’ll meet people where they are at. We’ll speak—and we’ll listen. We’ll find common ground, bridging differences in opinion and outlook. We’ll dream together of the beautiful Kingdom where we see that the Spirit dwells within all people—and the acceptance and love that Jesus showed us abounds for all. May it be so.

Resources:

Natalia Guerrero. “Good, free, fun: The simple formula that has made Duolingo a daily habit for millions” in BBC News: Worklife, Oct. 4, 2024. Accessed online at https://www.bbc.com/worklife/article/20241004-the-simple-formula-that-made-duolingo-a-daily-habit-for-millions

David Curry. “Duolingo Revenue and Usage Statistics” in Business of Apps, April 20, 2026. Accessed online at https://www.businessofapps.com/data/duolingo-statistics/

Rebecca Dean. “Commentary on Acts 2:1-21” in Preaching This Week, May 24, 2026. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/day-of-pentecost/commentary-on-acts-21-21-19

Margaret Aymer. “Commentary on Acts 2:1-21” in Preaching This Week, June 8, 2025. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/day-of-pentecost-3/commentary-on-acts-21-21-18

Jeremy Williams. “Commentary on Acts 2:1-21” in Preaching This Week, May 28, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/day-of-pentecost/commentary-on-acts-21-21-16

Acts 2:1-18

2 When the day of Pentecost had come, they were all together in one place. 2 And suddenly from heaven there came a sound like the rush of a violent wind, and it filled the entire house where they were sitting. 3 Divided tongues, as of fire, appeared among them, and a tongue rested on each of them. 4 All of them were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other languages, as the Spirit gave them ability.

5 Now there were devout Jews from every people under heaven living in Jerusalem. 6 And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. 7 Amazed and astonished, they asked, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? 8 And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language? 9 Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, 10 Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, 11 Cretans and Arabs—in our own languages we hear them speaking about God’s deeds of power.” 12 All were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, “What does this mean?” 13 But others sneered and said, “They are filled with new wine.”

14 But Peter, standing with the eleven, raised his voice and addressed them, “Fellow Jews and all who live in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and listen to what I say. 15 Indeed, these are not drunk, as you suppose, for it is only nine o’clock in the morning. 16 No, this is what was spoken through the prophet Joel:

17 ‘In the last days it will be, God declares,
that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh,
    and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
and your young men shall see visions,
    and your old men shall dream dreams.
18 Even upon my slaves, both men and women,
    in those days I will pour out my Spirit,
        and they shall prophesy.

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The End Is the Beginning (Look out!)

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The End Is the Beginning” Acts 1:1-11

Here in the United States, the Ascension of Jesus is perhaps the least celebrated of Christian Feast Days. That isn’t true around the world. From Indonesia to Ivory Coast to Iceland, Ascension is both a religious and a public holiday—no work, no school. In Germany, Jesus’ ascension to his heavenly Father has been a good reason to also celebrate earthly fathers since the 1700’s. Families enjoy outdoor events and picnics together. Teams of men push Böllerwagens through the streets, brightly painted carts that carry food, beer, and favorite sweet treats for all.

In Spain, Ascension is one of the most important festivals of the year. In Santiago de Compostela, where the Camino de Santiago ends at the burial site of the Apostle James, there is a weeklong celebration. Fields and cattle are blessed. There are parades. Cabezudos—figures clothed in bright costumes with huge papier mâché heads—dance through the city streets to the sound of the Galician bagpipes. Inside the cathedral, the monks fire up the Botafumeiro, a five-foot-tall, 176-pound incense burner that takes a team of 6 men to swing from the rafters.

In Austria and Switzerland, the faithful like to go on hikes for Ascension. They climb hills or mountains in commemoration of Jesus going up. Then, they feast on pheasant, geese, quail, or chicken. The poultry dinner is a nod to Jesus flying to heaven, surrounded by the sacred cloud of divine presence. Traditionally, a new friend or neighbor is invited to join the celebration. If our neighbors around the world are right, then the Ascension is worth celebrating big time. Here in the US, we may be missing something.

Let’s talk about our reading from the Acts on the Apostles. For forty days, the risen Lord was with the disciples, encouraging them, teaching them, holding them together as a community of faithful people. As he prepared to return to his heavenly Father, Jesus had some parting instructions for his friends. Stay in Jerusalem. Wait for God’s promise. Prepare for a baptism in the Holy Spirit. Not a lot of details there. Can we blame the disciples for wanting to know more?

Perhaps it was Peter who spoke up and asked the question that was on everyone’s mind, “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” Despite everything that Jesus had shown them and taught them, the disciples were still holding onto old notions of the Messiah as a military hero like King David, who could vanquish their enemies and restore their political fortunes. Unable to imagine a future mission without Jesus at the helm, they hoped that God would step in. Why not conquer the Romans, bring down Herod and the Sadducees, restore the fortunes of Israel, and initiate the Kingdom of God? That sounded like a happy ending to the disciples, with ringside seats in Jerusalem for the Kingdom’s arrival.

Jesus didn’t leave the disciples with the neatly resolved ending that they wanted. Instead, he left them with a mission. He shared a vision of his friends as witnesses. They would start in their Jewish comfort zone—Jerusalem and Judea. Then, they would move into enemy territory, reaching out to their Samaritan neighbors. Eventually, they would go to a never-imagined mission field—the nations of the Gentile world. It was a daunting mission, especially since they knew that Jesus was leaving them. He wouldn’t be there to work miracles, feed the crowds, and preach those incredible sermons. Were they really up to the challenge? Jesus may have cast an inspiring vision for the future of his friends, but faced with his impending departure, the disciples felt frightened and overwhelmed, grieved and abandoned.

Endings and beginnings are hard. We mourn what is left behind and we worry about what lies ahead. We wonder if we are up to the challenge. We fear that we may fail. We may not even know where to start. We know all about that.

It’s graduation season. Yesterday morning, students of North Country Community College celebrated commencement in the Sparks Gymnasium. Last week, the Smitties graduated, outside along the lakeshore at Paul Smiths College. On June 26th, Saranac Lake High School seniors will likewise say farewell to a school that has felt familiar and become routine. Some students will step into jobs or commit to further studies. All will feel both the grief of an ending and the anxiety of a new beginning. Will they be enough? Will they have what it takes?

Endings and beginnings continue long past our school graduations. On average, a professional American works twelve jobs throughout their career. Long gone are the days of a single job that is worked across a lifetime. Each career move comes with its challenge. We say goodbye to workplace friends, mentors, and familiar tasks. We take a chance in a position of increased responsibility and pressure. We must learn new skills and adapt to different expectations. There is always a moment on the first day of a new job when we think, “What have I gotten myself into?”

I am told that even retirement bears the mixed feelings of grief and accomplishment, worry and anticipation. We bid farewell to our workplace identity and settle into a new and nebulous role that isn’t defined by our boss or our paycheck. We may miss the sense of purpose and daily routine of the workplace. We may feel the burden of time on our hands. We may wonder how many years we have left or if we have saved enough money. Or we may find a fresh purpose in volunteering, travel, or family that is gratifying and joyous.

Endings and beginnings are hard. We constantly face them. Graduations, new jobs, and retirement. Engagements, weddings, and relationships coming to an end. Births, illnesses, deaths. Something seems to always be coming to an end. Something is always bidding us to a new beginning. It was true for the disciples wondering how they would tackle a new mission without Jesus. It is true for folks like us, who navigate transitions and changes in our lives, mourning what is past, facing our fear, and stepping forward into the mysterious future that God holds ready.

When Jesus left the disciples, they stood looking up, caught in that tension between ending and beginning, wondering how they could go on. Maybe that’s why the Lord sent two messengers with a gentle nudge to move them from grief to action, saying, “Why do you stand looking up toward heaven?” It was time to redirect their gaze. They needed to stop looking up and start looking out. There was a wide world out there in need of the good news of God’s amazing love.

If we continue reading in the Acts of the Apostles, we discover that that the disciples found a way to make it through those ten long days of waiting for the arrival of the Holy Spirit. They gathered in the Upper Room. James and John set aside their rivalry about who was the greatest. Mother Mary and Jesus’ brothers got over their former misgivings about Jesus’ radical sense of family, and they joined the crowd of disciples. Even the women, who were once begrudged a place at Jesus’ feet, found that they were welcomed. Jesus’ friends came together in their brokenness, and they found community. 

In the sharing of their loss and fear, they found the courage to wait and wonder and trust. With one mind, they devoted themselves to prayer.  They got down on their knees, and they gave thanks for all that Jesus had done for them. They confessed their fears and worries and doubts.  And then they asked God to give them what they would need to set about this business of being Christ’s witnesses and sharing the good news from Jerusalem to the ends of the earth.  As they came together in prayer and mutual support, they realized that they weren’t alone—they had one another. They weren’t lost. God had a plan for their lives. They might be afraid, overwhelmed, and uncertain, but they trusted that God would provide what was needed when the time was right. There is wisdom there for us.

Endings and beginnings are hard, whether we are graduating or venturing into a new job or stepping out of the workforce and into retirement or managing the myriad curveballs that life brings our way. There is that tension between anxiety and excitement. There are big questions about whether we can handle the mystery of what is next. But it is in stepping into that mysterious future that we grow into the people whom God created us to be, just as the disciples grew into spiritual leaders and bold witnesses. It is in living faithfully through our big changes and in turning to one another in community, that we learn to trust that Jesus truly is with us. The end can be a beginning. With the Lord’s help we are, indeed, enough. We can stop looking up and longing for the past. We can start looking out in readiness for the future. There is a wide world out there still in need of the good news of God’s amazing love, still in need of disciples willing to step out in hope and faith.

So maybe all those countries that make a big deal out of the Ascension really do have something to teach us, after all. The end is often the beginning. That is a fact worth celebrating.

Resources

Mariana Manzanares. “5 Ascension Day Traditions” in CATHOLIC MASS TIMES. https://catholicmasstimes.com/5-ascension-day-traditions/

Brian Peterson. “Commentary on Acts 1:1-11” in Preaching This Week, May 12, 2013. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ascension-of-our-lord/commentary-on-acts-11-11-2

Rebecca Dean. “Commentary on Acts 1:1-11” in Preaching This Week, May 14, 2026. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ascension-of-our-lord/commentary-on-acts-11-11-11

Sharon Bettsworth. “Commentary on Acts 1:1-11” in Preaching This Week, May 18, 2022. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ascension-of-our-lord/commentary-on-acts-11-11-8

Acts 1:1-11

1 In the first book, Theophilus, I wrote about all that Jesus began to do and teach 2 until the day when he was taken up to heaven, after giving instructions through the Holy Spirit to the apostles whom he had chosen. 3 After his suffering he presented himself alive to them by many convincing proofs, appearing to them during forty days and speaking about the kingdom of God. 4 While staying with them, he ordered them not to leave Jerusalem but to wait there for the promise of the Father. “This,” he said, “is what you have heard from me; 5 for John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit not many days from now.” 6 So when they had come together, they asked him, “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” 7 He replied, “It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. 8 But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” 9 When he had said this, as they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight. 10 While he was going and they were gazing up toward heaven, suddenly two men in white robes stood by them. 11 They said, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up toward heaven? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.”

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You Are Welcome

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “You Are Welcome” Acts 8:26-38

Not everyone feels welcome in church.

Visitors or newcomers to churches can feel uncomfortable. On Sunday mornings as the church fills and old friends turn to one another in the pews to chat and catch up on the latest news, visitors may feel like socially awkward outsiders who have crashed a private party. A national survey found that over 70% of newcomers say that being singled out as a visitor in a church service is deeply uncomfortable. Asked to stand and introduce themselves or to turn and greet their neighbors with the peace of Christ, they feel the painful discomfort of public scrutiny as every eye checks them out or complete strangers want to shake their hands—or worse—hug them.

Lord, forbid that someone new sits in our pew. One Sunday a number of years ago, I spotted those golden girls Dot Shene and Norma Neese, sitting in a different place in the sanctuary. During the passing of the peace, I congratulated them on trying a seat near the front. Dot, clearly irritated, said, “We had to.” Then, Norma turned and pointed to a couple of guests, seated in their beloved back pew. “They took our seats!” she lamented loudly.

I thought that was pretty bad until I had a Sunday off and went to worship at the Tupper Lake church, where I have served as the moderator for many years. I arrived a little early and chose a seat. Then during the opening hymn, two late arrivers came and stood next to my pew. I smiled at them. “You’re in our seat,” I was told. Although I offered to move over or let them by, they weren’t happy until I had moved to a different pew.

It’s not unusual for church signs out front to bear the words, “All are welcome,” but are they really?

The Ethiopian Eunuch knew how it feels to be unwelcome in church. He was a man of status and power. In an ancient world that prized the beauty of black skin above all else, he was gorgeous. He served in the royal court of his homeland, managing the great wealth of his queen, the Candace. In a world where few people were literate, he was cultured, fluent in Greek, and a student of the Torah. He had spent a small fortune on the scroll of the Prophet Isaiah. He had come to Jerusalem on a great pilgrimage of many miles with a retinue of servants to worship and pray.

The Bible scholars point out that when the eunuch arrived at the Jerusalem Temple, he would have been denied entry. We don’t know how he came to be a eunuch, whether he was born that way, was injured in some horrible accident, or had to say goodbye to his “manhood” before he could become the Treasury Secretary, but it was who he was. He couldn’t do anything about it. He probably heard some less than welcoming scripture quoted to him in Jerusalem, like Deuteronomy 23 and Leviticus 21, which say that anyone with his “problem” cannot be admitted to the assembly or approach God with an offering because it would profane the sanctuary. 

I wonder if we can imagine what it would feel like to be the Ethiopian eunuch, to love God and fear that God did not love him, would never love him, no matter how many pilgrimages he made or prayers he said. As the Ethiopian Eunuch rattled home in his chariot, he read the words of Isaiah 53, which tell of God’s servant who silently suffers in humiliation. Those words must have tugged at his heartstrings, as if they were written about him.

Of course, we don’t have to be a church visitor sitting in the “wrong” pew or the Ethiopian eunuch to wonder if God loves us. Our feelings of welcome and acceptance are also shaped by who we are. The church universal has historically been less than hospitable to some people more than others. Many have had bad church experiences in which they feel judged and condemned. Those who have been divorced may not feel welcome. Those who choose to live together outside of marriage may not feel welcome. Those who are single parents may not feel welcome. My LGBTQ friends and family all have painful stories to share of leaving churches where they were not accepted unless they stayed in the closet. Young people with blue hair, plenty of piercings, or an abundance of tattoos describe the shocked stares and alienating whispers of people in the pews. Even when we look like everyone else, we may harbor secret hurts or shame or bad experiences that make us wonder along with the Ethiopian eunuch, “Is God’s love for me? Is God’s love for us?”

The Ethiopian Eunuch might have stayed an outsider if the Holy Spirit hadn’t stepped in and taken some bold action. The Spirit found the right man for the job, Philip. He wasn’t afraid of those who had been labeled outsiders. In fact, Philip got his start as an evangelist by taking the gospel to the Samaritans, traditional enemies of Israel. So, when the Holy Spirit sent him running down the Gaza Road, Philip was ready. He climbed into the Ethiopian man’s chariot, caught his breath, and began to tell his new friend about Jesus of Nazareth, the fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy about a holy servant who was rejected by those he was sent to redeem and suffered for the world’s sins.

As Philip told the good news of Jesus’ ministry, of how Jesus welcomed the outsider, healed the sick, blessed the children, and counted women among his disciples, his Ethiopian neighbor began to get excited.  Really excited. He imagined the possibility that if Jesus had anything to say about it, God might just welcome him, might welcome a person who looked and felt like he did. If the eunuch or Philip questioned what the Holy Spirit intended for them, those questions disappeared as a strange sight shimmered on the desert horizon: a pool of water, sparkling in the midday sun. It was unthinkable, impossible even, but there it was, a big baptismal pool in the middle of that dry and dusty landscape.

Finally, the Ethiopian Eunuch could contain himself no longer, this man who had been excluded from the Temple and made to feel unwelcome in God’s House dared to imagine that he, too, was loved. “Look, here is water!  What is to prevent me from being baptized?” And in response, Philip did not quote Deuteronomy 23 or Leviticus 21. Instead, by the power of the Holy Spirit that had sent him running down the Gaza Road, Philip knew that no one is ever beyond the limits of God’s unfathomably big love.  All were welcomed. All might be claimed in the waters of baptism as God’s beloved children. The driver reined in the horses. The chariot came to a halt. And Philip with his new Ethiopian friend waded into the waters of a love that would not let them go.

It’s a wild and scandalous story that tugs at our heartstrings. It tells the simple truth that God welcomes us when the world—or the church—will not. All are welcome to these waters and claimed as sons and daughters of a holy parent who has a place for us at the table and a home for us in the kingdom. It’s a story that invites us to know our belovedness. It’s a story that dares us to be a more loving people. The Holy Spirit calls to us, as the Spirit did to Philip, setting our feet on the path to welcome and inclusion, to meet people where they are at, to open our eyes and hearts to those who are new. The Spirit calls us to judge less and welcome more. Perhaps we’ll even loosen our death grip on that favorite pew. Perhaps one day all churches will be as welcoming as Jesus.

The freshly baptized Ethiopian Eunuch rode off down the Gaza Road, full of joy and alleluias.  They say that he became the great evangelist of Africa, telling the Candace—and anyone who would listen—all about a God who loves limitlessly, who became flesh, lived and taught, healed and suffered, died and rose again to make that limitless holy love known to all people—a God who is still trying to get that message out even now.

Resources

Matt Skinner. “Commentary on Acts 8:26-40” in Preaching This Week, May 2, 2021. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/fifth-sunday-of-easter-2/commentary-on-acts-826-40

Mitzi Smith. “Commentary on Acts 8:26-40” in Preaching This Week, May 6, 2012. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/fifth-sunday-of-easter-2/commentary-on-acts-826-40-2

Richard Jensen. “Commentary on Acts 8:26-40” in Preaching This Week, May 10, 2009. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/fifth-sunday-of-easter-2/commentary-on-acts-826-40-3

F. Scott Spencer. “Commentary on Acts 8:26-40” in Preaching This Week, April 28, 2024. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/fifth-sunday-of-easter-2/commentary-on-acts-826-40-5

Acts 8:26-38

26 Then an angel of the Lord said to Philip, “Get up and go toward the south to the road that goes down from Jerusalem to Gaza.” (This is a wilderness road.) 27 So he got up and went. Now there was an Ethiopian eunuch, a court official of the Candace, the queen of the Ethiopians, in charge of her entire treasury. He had come to Jerusalem to worship 28 and was returning home; seated in his chariot, he was reading the prophet Isaiah. 29 Then the Spirit said to Philip, “Go over to this chariot and join it.” 30 So Philip ran up to it and heard him reading the prophet Isaiah. He asked, “Do you understand what you are reading?” 31 He replied, “How can I, unless someone guides me?” And he invited Philip to get in and sit beside him. 32 Now the passage of the scripture that he was reading was this:

“Like a sheep he was led to the slaughter,
    and like a lamb silent before its shearer,
        so he does not open his mouth.
33 In his humiliation justice was denied him.
    Who can describe his generation?
        For his life is taken away from the earth.”

34 The eunuch asked Philip, “About whom, may I ask you, does the prophet say this, about himself or about someone else?” 35 Then Philip began to speak, and starting with this scripture he proclaimed to him the good news about Jesus. 36 As they were going along the road, they came to some water, and the eunuch said, “Look, here is water! What is to prevent me from being baptized?” 38 He commanded the chariot to stop, and both of them, Philip and the eunuch, went down into the water, and Philip baptized him.

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The Rock of Refuge

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The Rock of Refuge” Psalm 31:1-5, 15-16

There are 120 million people worldwide in need of refuge this morning. Some are refugees, forced to leave their homeland to seek the safety of another nation. Some are internally displaced people, still within their homeland but driven from their homes. Persecution, war, ethnic violence, human rights abuses, natural disaster, famine, and civil unrest ripple across the planet. One in sixty-seven world citizens needs a rock of refuge.

Hugo Carrasco is a Dreamer. His parents brought him from Mexico to the United States when he was a child. He didn’t know he was undocumented until high school when he wanted to get a driver’s license. Hugo volunteered for Young Life as a mentor for at-risk youth while working for a restaurant. He married Leslie, whom he met through church. They have two children. One day, he was arrested in an ICE raid. He learned that although he is married to a US citizen, he isn’t eligible for citizenship because he is “illegal,” and because he was arrested on a work violation, he is now ineligible for the work papers and path to citizenship offered by DACA—the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program. Hugo needs a rock of refuge.

As college students in Venezuela, Mariana and Antonio took to the streets to protest the oppressive regime of Nicolas Maduro. When the military intervened, the protest descended into violence. As Mariana sought refuge, a man got out of his car and held a gun to her head. She kept running. Four years later, while visiting Venezuelan friends in Miami, Mariana and Antonio learned that they were eligible for Temporary Protected Status (TPS). The status was developed in 1990 as a way to protect individuals fleeing armed conflict, natural disasters, or other unlivable conditions in their home countries. Mariana and Antonio were awarded TPS. They moved to Miami and embarked on successful careers in finance until last April when the current administration cancelled protected status for Venezuelans. They need a rock of refuge.

Marceline Washikala is a third-generation refugee. Her family fled Congo for Tanzania when her grandfather was killed in the first civil war. Opportunities for school in refugee camps are limited, so Marceline only completed the third grade. When she was eighteen, the family was moved to Oregon for resettlement. Although her younger siblings were able to enroll in public school. Marceline was told she was too old and had too little education to join them. She had finally found a home, but adapting to a new culture and new language was hard.  Marceline needed a rock of refuge.

We are not refugees seeking a new home in the United States, yet I think we all know how it feels to need safety, strength, shelter, protection, and the promise of opportunity. Our declining health or the medical crisis of a loved one leaves us longing for a rock of refuge. The uncertainty of our personal economics, from the soaring cost of living to the dwindling of our retirement savings, leaves us longing for a rock of refuge. The fractures in our civil society which pit neighbor against neighbor, and the bitter differences that alienate us from our families leave us longing for a rock of refuge. We can pray along with the psalmist, “In you, O Lord, I seek refuge; do not let me ever be put to shame; in your righteousness deliver me. Incline your ear to me; rescue me speedily. Be a rock of refuge for me, a strong fortress to save me.”

Psalm 31 is attributed to King David. He needed refuge. Long before he rose to kingship in Israel, David was persecuted by powerful political enemies. As a young shepherd boy, David’s ability to soothe King Saul with music and his daring defeat of the giant Goliath landed him a spot in the royal court. Yet as David’s reputation as a leader on and off the battlefield grew, so did the jealousy of the king. In fact, David was forced into exile after Saul first tried to kill him and then attempted to arrest him on charges of sedition. David spent all of his young adult life on the run. Always one step ahead of Saul’s death squads, he sheltered with the King of Moab, sojourned with Philistine enemies in Gath, and lived in a cave in the harsh and unforgiving landscape of the Judean Wilderness.

David believed that God alone was his rock of refuge. In the seven short verses of today’s reading, David described God as the one who will not let us be disgraced, who saves us, listens to us, and rescues us. God leads and guides, frees us from the snares of enemies, redeems us, delivers us, shows us favor, and saves us with steadfast love. Who doesn’t need that? David’s word choice is telling. In Psalm 31, he repeatedly uses the Hebrew verb, ḥāsâ. It has a double meaning. It means to seek refuge or flee for protection, and it also means to put trust in someone, to confide in someone, to hope in someone. Despite his adversity, David knew that God alone was the one he could trust and hope in because God is our refuge. God had chosen him as a shepherd boy. God had battled with him against the mighty Goliath. God would deliver him from the persecution of Saul. God is a refuge because God’s love is faithful, trustworthy, and steadfast.

A number of years ago, one of my New Testament professors, David Cortez-Fuentes, pointed out that David wasn’t the only one to pray with Psalm 31. He called my attention to Jesus’ words from the cross in Luke 23:46. Crying out with a loud voice, Jesus said the words of the psalmist, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” Having said this, he breathed his last. Jesus’ choice to pray with Psalm 31, even as he suffered and died, reflects his reliance on God as a refuge, his confidence in God’s love.

Jesus’ dying prayer reminds us that God is both refuge and refugee. In Jesus, God knows what it is to feel as we do—vulnerable and at-risk, embattled and under-supported, alienated and persecuted. In the midst of our powerlessness, we need a rock of refuge. Can we trust—as David did and as Jesus did—that God is both our promise of refuge and our hope for the future? The kingship awaited David. A resurrection miracle awaited Jesus. May we, too, dare to trust that our rock of refuge has goodness and mercy in store for us.

Perhaps we can even dare to share that trust with those who need it most right now, our vulnerable and embattled neighbors who desperately need the hope that is found in our rock of refuge. Hugo Carrasco, that dreamer who was scooped up in an ICE raid in Maricopa County Arizona, had strong support from his family, church, and Young Life community. He found a good lawyer who was able to have him released from detention after three months, but he is still “illegal.” His kids are teens now, but the immigration crack down underway across the nation leaves them in fear that their father could be taken away. Like others who were brought to this country illegally as children, Hugo lives with the constant threat of deportation to a land that is not his home. He is praying to his rock of refuge.

Mariana and Antonio, who lost their Temporary Protected Status as Venezuelans, face an uncertain future. Mariana says, “It has given me anxiety, a lot of sadness, a feeling of injustice.” Any day now, she or Antonio could be taken into custody and sent back to Venezuela where, although Nicolas Maduro is no longer in power, the government remains unchanged and the persecutors who once held a gun to her head have never faced consequences or checks. Mariana says, “I feel like my life is on hold.” She is praying to her rock of refuge.

Marceline Washikala, that Congolese refugee in Oregon, found an advocate in the school system who fought to enroll her in the 12th grade at North Salem High School where she had been denied status. She graduated and subsequently earned a degree in business administration from the local community college. She has helped her mother open a market for African food. She also works for the school district as a language specialist for families who speak Swahili. She dreams of getting a four-year degree and becoming a social worker, who can assist refugees and immigrants, like her. Marceline attends the First Free Methodist Church and directs the Uhuru Youth Choir, which is comprised of people from Congo, Tanzania, Mozambique, Egypt, and Kenya. They sing gospel music in various languages at churches, festivals, and hospitals in the Salem area. Marceline has finally found safety. She has finally found home. Marceline sings along with the psalmist, a song of praise for her rock of refuge. Amen.

Resources

–. “Conflict Between the Houses of David and Saul.” Bible Hub. https://biblehub.com/topical/c/conflict_between_the_houses_of_david_and_saul.htm

Brown-Driver-Briggs Lexicon. STRONGS H2620. “ḥāsâ.” Accessed online at https://www.blueletterbible.org/lexicon/h2620/rsv/wlc/0-1/

Hugo Carrasco. “I live in fear of deportation: My life as an undocumented worker” in Salon, May 17, 2014. Accessed online at https://www.salon.com/2014/05/17/i_live_in_fear_of_deportation_my_life_as_an_undocumented_worker/

Grace Berry and Abigail Wilt. “‘It is complete chaos’: TPS recipients search for solutions after protections end under Trump” in News 21, Sept. 4, 2025. Accessed online at https://upheaval.news21.com/stories/it-is-complete-chaos-temporary-protected-status-recipients-search-for-solutions-after-the-trump-administration-ends-protections/

Zachary Kasper. “Just Waiting for a Miracle” in The Immigrant Story, April 6, 2024. Accessed online at https://theimmigrantstory.org/waiting-for-a-miracle/

Danish Refugee Council. “How many refugees are there in the world?” Accessed online at https://help.refugees.now/en/news/how-many-refugees-are-there-in-the-world/

Joel LeMon. “Commentary on Psalm 31” in Preaching This Week, May 14, 2017. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/fifth-sunday-of-easter/commentary-on-psalm-311-5-15-16-3

J. Clinton McCann, Jr. “Commentary on Psalm 31” in Preaching This Week, May 18, 2014. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/fifth-sunday-of-easter/commentary-on-psalm-311-5-15-16-4

John E. White. “Homiletical Perspective on Psalm 31” in Feasting on the Word, Year A, vol. 2. Westminster John Knox Press, 2010.

Psalm 31:1-5, 15-16

To the leader. A Psalm of David.

1 In you, O Lord, I seek refuge;
    do not let me ever be put to shame;
    in your righteousness deliver me.
2 Incline your ear to me;
    rescue me speedily.
Be a rock of refuge for me,
    a strong fortress to save me.

3 You are indeed my rock and my fortress;
    for your name’s sake lead me and guide me;
4 take me out of the net that is hidden for me,
    for you are my refuge.
5 Into your hand I commit my spirit;
    you have redeemed me, O Lord, faithful God.

15 My times are in your hand;
    deliver me from the hand of my enemies and persecutors.
16 Let your face shine upon your servant;
    save me in your steadfast love.

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