Poem for a Tuesday — “All Hallows” by Louise Gluck
Even now this landscape is assembling.
The hills darken. The oxen
sleep in their blue yoke,
the fields having been
picked clean, the sheaves
bound evenly and piled at the roadside
among cinquefoil, as the toothed moon rises:
This is the barrenness
of harvest or pestilence.
And the wife leaning out the window
with her hand extended, as in payment,
and the seeds
distinct, gold, calling
Come here
Come here, little one
And the soul creeps out of the tree.
in Louise Gluck. The First Four Books of Poems. (New York: Harper Collins, 1995).
Poet and essayist Louise Gluck was born in New York City in 1943. She suffered from anorexia nervosa as a girl and her early work lyrically reflected the struggle to live with trauma, failed love, family dysfunction, and despair. She graduated from Columbia University and supported herself as a secretary until the publication of her critically acclaimed first collection of poems Firstborn. She went on to publish eleven more works of poetry and three collections of essays. Gluck taught at Goddard College, Williams College, and served as the Rosencrantz Writer in Residence at Yale University. In 2003, she was named the twelfth US Poet Laureate. In 2020, she became the first American woman poet to win the Nobel Literature Prize for her overall contribution to literature. Louise Gluck died earlier this month at her home in Cambridge at the age of eighty.
Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The Caring Community” Psalm 136
In the spirit of our tradition of sharing testimonies on Reformation Sunday, I’m stepping away from a regular sermon to share a little of my own story – which is really our story.
When I moved to Saranac Lake from the Chicago area, almost 19 years ago, I knew that I had my work cut out for me. This church had been through a lot. Many people had left. Among those who remained, there were factions. Harsh things had been said. Hurt feelings were abundant. We had trouble with what our interim Pastor Carol Drew astutely labeled “malicious gossip.” On top of that, we were looking at a $45,000 deficit budget and had exhausted much of our available savings.
Perhaps our biggest problem would be cultivating a caring community. We didn’t trust one another. We didn’t feel safe sharing our family concerns or health troubles. At first, we didn’t even feel comfortable naming our joys and concerns on Sunday mornings because you never knew if your personal business might become the afternoon chatter at the DeChantal. Healing would take time and hard work.
We began by changing our deacons, shifting their responsibilities to better meet the biblical diaconal role of Christian caregivers. Deacons stopped planning potlucks. Instead, they began to build skills like listening, keeping confidentiality, visiting, and praying with others. Two by two, they went out to visit our homebound members and friends. They also offered caring hospitality for funeral and memorial services. They did some good cooking – delivering meals for folks going through surgeries, chemotherapy, or having a tough time. They were a wonderful comfort to our aging members of that greatest generation.
It didn’t stop with the deacons. One day, Priscilla Goss returned from a visit to her cousin in Virginia with a stuffed bear. He was a cute little fellow with a bowtie and a ribbon around his neck with a little sign that said he was a blessing bear. He had been living in her cousin’s church, just waiting to be taken home to someone who needed extra love. What a sweet idea! Soon, our pews had sprouted a batch of bears. The late Bob Brown always kept an eye open for bears and would visit me like Santa several times a year with a big bag of furry friends. Over the years, many of us have taken bears out to bring a much-needed smile to those who needed it.
Another dimension of our caring ministry emerged when we formed the Heart & Hands Circle, which brings together knitters and crocheters once a month. They pray and get busy, making prayer shawls, baby blankets, and lap robes. Going through chemotherapy? You need a warm shawl to wrap around your shoulders. Recovering from knee surgery? A lap robe! New addition to the family? Break out the baby blanket! Since its inception, the group has sent out about 140 of these wonderful handmade creations to bless us.
Of course, there are more ways that we have grown as a caring community: the prayer chain, the deacons fund, our commitments to Samaritan House and the Food Pantry. How about the cookie bomb, Parent’s Night Out, and those wonderful summer bouquets that we take out weekly? We care. People have noticed, too. Visitors often remark that ours is a warm and welcoming community. Thank you, Jesus!
I don’t think I truly realized the depth of caring in this church until I was diagnosed with breast cancer and underwent some big surgeries. I can’t begin to express how thankful I am for all the love and care that came my way. And I thought you might like to see and hear some of the special ways that your caring was shown. I even brought a little “show and tell.” So, I’ll name some things, and you’ll respond with the words, “Thank, God!” Are you ready?
There has been plenty of good food! Home-made dinners, baked goods, sweet treats, birthday cake, and blueberry jelly. Thank God!
There have been flowers! Fancy florist bouquets, giant mums, garden flowers, and a 3-D paper arrangement that came all the way from MN. Thank God!
I’ve gotten lots of get well wishes! Cards, letters, emails, texts, Facebook posts, and a sweet little message on the chalkboard outside our front door. Thank God!
There have been gift certificates and fun gifts! Nori’s, Grizzle T’s, more Nori’s, and Adirondack Therapeutics; a little gourd, a little pumpkin, dumb bells, and what every pastor needs: corgi socks. Thank God!
There have been contributions of the pastor medical fund! Big gifts, little gifts and everything in between, donations that have helped us with those huge expenses. Thank God!
There have been abundant prayers! In worship, in homes, on the prayer chain, on Facebook, over the phone, and even in other churches and around the tables of local boards and charities. Thank God!
Thank God and thank you! This is what a caring Christian community is all about. We’ve come a long way, baby! Thank God!
Psalm 136
O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever. 2 O give thanks to the God of gods, for his steadfast love endures forever. 3 O give thanks to the Lord of lords, for his steadfast love endures forever;
4 who alone does great wonders, for his steadfast love endures forever; 5 who by understanding made the heavens, for his steadfast love endures forever; 6 who spread out the earth on the waters, for his steadfast love endures forever; 7 who made the great lights, for his steadfast love endures forever; 8 the sun to rule over the day, for his steadfast love endures forever; 9 the moon and stars to rule over the night, for his steadfast love endures forever;
10 who struck Egypt through their firstborn, for his steadfast love endures forever; 11 and brought Israel out from among them, for his steadfast love endures forever; 12 with a strong hand and an outstretched arm, for his steadfast love endures forever; 13 who divided the Red Sea[a] in two, for his steadfast love endures forever; 14 and made Israel pass through the midst of it, for his steadfast love endures forever; 15 but overthrew Pharaoh and his army in the Red Sea,[b] for his steadfast love endures forever; 16 who led his people through the wilderness, for his steadfast love endures forever; who made water flow from the rock, for his steadfast love endures forever;[c] 17 who struck down great kings, for his steadfast love endures forever; 18 and killed famous kings, for his steadfast love endures forever; 19 Sihon, king of the Amorites, for his steadfast love endures forever; 20 and Og, king of Bashan, for his steadfast love endures forever; 21 and gave their land as a heritage, for his steadfast love endures forever; 22 a heritage to his servant Israel, for his steadfast love endures forever.
23 It is he who remembered us in our low estate, for his steadfast love endures forever; 24 and rescued us from our foes, for his steadfast love endures forever; 25 who gives food to all flesh, for his steadfast love endures forever.
26 O give thanks to the God of heaven, for his steadfast love endures forever.
Poem for a Tuesday — “Morning Poem” by Mary Oliver
Every morning
the world
is created.
Under the orange
sticks of the sun
the heaped
ashes of the night
turn into leaves again
and fasten themselves to the high branches–
and the ponds appear
like black cloth
on which are painted islands
of summer lilies.
If it is your nature
to be happy
you will swim away along the soft trails
for hours, your imagination
alighting everywhere.
And if your spirit
carries within it
the thorn
that is heavier than lead–
if it’s all you can do
to keep on trudging–
there is still
somewhere deep within you
a beast shouting that the earth
is exactly what it wanted–
each pond with its blazing lilies
is a prayer heard and answered
lavishly,
every morning,
whether or not
you have ever dared to be happy,
whether or not
you have ever dared to pray.
in Mary Oliver, New and Selected Poems. Boston: Beacon Press, 1992, pp. 106-107
The late Mary Oliver had a singular ability to attend to the natural world and, with the sparest of words, plumb truths that speak to the heart. She won the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Award. Raised in a midwestern Christian home, she attended Sunday school but struggled to accept the doctrine of the resurrection and opted out of confirmation. She was deeply spiritual and spent a lifetime in pursuit of the holy. Oliver said, “I know that a life is much richer with a spiritual part to it. And I also think nothing is more interesting. So I cling to it.”
On October seventh, the world was shocked by news from the Middle East. Rocket attacks and a violent incursion had been launched from Gaza into Israel by Hamas militants. 1,400 Israelis have been killed. More than 100 have been taken hostage, to be used as bargaining chips for the release of Hamas prisoners. The Israeli Defense Force was quick to respond by bombarding suspected Hamas strongholds in Gaza. 6,000 bombs were dropped in six days. Gaza’s dense population has put civilians in the crosshairs. At least 4,385 Palestinians have been killed, including 1,756 children and 967 women. A further 13,500 Gazans have been injured. The world watches and weeps. We worry that the conflict could spill over to the occupied West Bank, Lebanon, and beyond.
There are Christians in Gaza. The Book of Acts tells us that Philip the evangelist shared the gospel with the Ethiopian eunuch on the Gaza Road. In the fourth and fifth century, the monk Porphyrius made it his mission to share the good news with the people of Gaza, winning converts from traditional pagan and Roman spiritualities. The church that bears his name, St. Porphyrius Church in Gaza City, dates to the fifth century, one of the oldest Christian institutions in the Middle East. Today, there are about 1,100 Christians in Gaza, only 1% of the population. Many of them are now seeking shelter in the church or its sister institution, the Greek Orthodox Patriarchate School.
The war between Israel and Hamas may be viewed as a Muslim/Jewish conflict, but Christians are not immune to the suffering. The Al-Ahli Hospital, founded in 1898 by the World Anglican Communion, provides free medical care and food for residents of nearby villages. On Tuesday, the hospital was bombed, killing 471 people and wounding a further 300. On Thursday, the ancient St. Porphyrius Church compound was also bombed. The blast hit two church buildings where refugees, including children and babies, were sleeping. 18 were killed and twenty injured. The attacks were condemned by both the Anglican Communion and the Greek Patriarch of Jerusalem, who have called for prayers for that volatile region where Israeli Jews, Palestinian Muslims, and the frail Christian minority ask, “Where is God?”
In our reading from the Book of Exodus, Moses was worried. God had accompanied the Israelites since their escape from Egypt. The divine presence was manifest in a tower of cloud by day and a fiery pillar at night. God had even given the Israelites detailed instructions for building the tabernacle as a portable place of worship and communion with God. But things had not gone according to plan. The Israelites had complained against God and threatened mutiny over the scarcity of water and the monotony of their diet. Then, when Moses was delayed on the mountain with God, there had been outright rebellion. The people turned their backs on God and coerced Aaron into casting two golden calves – idols to the pagan god of storm and war Baal. Warned by God, Moses hurried down the mountain to find the Israelites bowing down and worshipping these gods of their own making.
It was a near thing. God Almighty, notoriously jealous, resolved to destroy the stiff-necked and rebellious people. Only the audacious intercession of Moses saved them from utter destruction. Although Moses talked God out of catastrophe, the ardor that God felt for the Israelites cooled. As today’s reading began, Moses learned that God would no longer go with Israel. Instead, an angel would serve as a poor substitute. Moses took a look at his recalcitrant people. He turned his eyes to the harsh landscape of the wilderness. He knew that, without God, he and the people wouldn’t stand a chance.
Our own experiences of suffering and adversity can lead us to question if God is with us. Our families seethe with generational strife and marital tension, and we say, “Where are you God?” Our health suffers, the tests begin, the medical bills mount, and we wonder, “Are you with me, Lord?” The chaos of our American political landscape leaves us fearful about the future, and we plead, “We need you, God!” We know what it is like to feel stressed, worried, anxious, and alone. We know that, when left to our own devices, we do not have what it takes to meet the challenge. We know we need holy help. “Where are you God?”
It would take some fast-talking by Moses to change God’s mind. Moses reminded God that the Israelites weren’t Moses’s people—they were God’s people, all the way back to the Patriarchs Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. God might have called Moses to lead that troublesome bunch, but he could not do so without the abiding presence of God. Fortunately, the Lord relented. But that wasn’t enough for the plucky Moses. He wanted tangible evidence. As a sign of good faith, God granted Moses’s request, sheltering the prophet in a cleft of Sinai and granting him a glimpse of the divine back. Assured of God’s faithfulness, Moses found the courage to lead a difficult people across the wilderness to the edge of the Promised Land.
We would all like what Moses got—a peek at God, a revelation that convinces us without a doubt that God is with us in our times of suffering and adversity. I think God knows that. God understands that even the most faithful among us can feel frightened, hopeless, and in need of personal reassurance. That’s why God sent Jesus to be Immanuel—God with us. In Jesus, God faced head on all the places in our lives that make our hearts tremble and question the presence of God. Jesus faced fraught families and responded to intractable medical concerns. Jesus and his followers knew the hardship of big taxes, limited resources, and poverty. Jesus and his friends faced difficult political realities that created fear and hardship for everyday people. In Jesus, God faced it all, with the power to help and heal. In Jesus, God revealed that we are not alone as we face what makes us despair. We don’t need to see the backside of God because in Jesus we saw God incarnate. We learned that God is with us, always with us. Thanks be to God.
In Gaza City this morning, Christians are worshipping at St. Porphyrius Church. Services resumed there the same day as the bombing, with a time of solemn worship for those who were killed and injured in the blast. A Palestinian American woman, who left the church in the early 2000s when she moved from Gaza to the United States, said in an interview with the Washington Post that the church is close-knit and family-like, a lot like our church. She says that amid the falling bombs and likelihood of further violence, “They’re terrified. They’re shaken. They don’t know what to do, and they don’t know where else to go.”
Maher Ayyad, a seventy-two-year-old church member of St. Porphyrius, is the medical director of that Anglican hospital, Al-Ahli Hospital, that was also bombed this week. Maher Ayyad says that he and his fellow church members are praying, always praying. “We pray for a cease-fire all the time,” he says, “It’s too much for Gazans.” As the bombs fall and the people St. Porphyrius Church brace for an Israeli invasion, may they remember that God is with them.
Resources
Vanessa Lovelace. “Commentary on Exodus 33:12-23” in Preaching This Week, October 18, 2020. Accessed online at workingpreacher.com.
Dennis Olson. “Commentary on Exodus 33:12-23” in Preaching This Week, October 22, 2017. Accessed online at workingpreacher.com.
Kathryn Schifferdecker. “Commentary on Exodus 33:12-23” in Preaching This Week, October 16, 2011. Accessed online at workingpreacher.com.
12Moses said to the Lord, “See, you have said to me, ‘Bring up this people’; but you have not let me know whom you will send with me. Yet you have said, ‘I know you by name, and you have also found favor in my sight.’ 13Now if I have found favor in your sight, show me your ways, so that I may know you and find favor in your sight. Consider too that this nation is your people.” 14He said, “My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest.” 15And he said to him, “If your presence will not go, do not carry us up from here. 16For how shall it be known that I have found favor in your sight, I and your people, unless you go with us? In this way, we shall be distinct, I and your people, from every people on the face of the earth.” 17The Lord said to Moses, “I will do the very thing that you have asked; for you have found favor in my sight, and I know you by name.” 18Moses said, “Show me your glory, I pray.” 19And he said, “I will make all my goodness pass before you, and will proclaim before you the name, ‘The Lord’; and I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy. 20But,” he said, “you cannot see my face; for no one shall see me and live.” 21And the Lord continued, “See, there is a place by me where you shall stand on the rock; 22and while my glory passes by I will put you in a cleft of the rock, and I will cover you with my hand until I have passed by; 23then I will take away my hand, and you shall see my back; but my face shall not be seen.”
Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Dressed for Success” Matthew 22:1-14
They say that “clothes make the man.” In his 1905 short story “The Czar’s Soliloquy,” Mark Twain wrote that, “without his clothes a man would be nothing at all; the clothes do not merely make the man, the clothes are the man; without them, he is a cipher, a vacancy, a nobody, a nothing.” Twain wasn’t the first to believe that we must dress for success. The first century Roman Rhetorician and scholar Quintilian first coined the proverb “vestis virum facit” (clothes make the man). Quintilian taught that to “dress within the formal limits and with an air gives men . . . authority.” Way back when Quintilian wrote that, it wasn’t new. Eight centuries earlier, the Greek poet Homer wrote that what we wear can give us a fine report in the estimation of others. His hero Odysseus was unrecognizable while clothed as a beggar, but he had “the air of the gods who dwell in the wide heaven” when reclothed in his princely attire.
Twain, Quintilian, and Homer were on to something. We are constantly sending one another silent cues about who we are and how we should be treatedthrough our clothing, grooming, and attitude. Indeed, social scientists have found that we suffer from representative bias. We take a look and tend to make quick assessments of one another. The man in the Armani suit and silk tie with his leather briefcase is clearly a businessman. The woman with glasses in the lab coat, stethoscope draped around her neck, must be a doctor. The young, bearded man in Carhartt pants, flannel shirt, and hiking boots must be a wilderness rec student. The woman in the black robe, rainbow stole, and white collar has got to be the pastor. Representative bias is like a cognitive shortcut. It saves us the effort of asking questions and making reasoned assessments.
In our parable from Matthew’s gospel, a guest gets in serious trouble for failing to wear the appropriate attire to the wedding feast for the King’s son. It’s a tough tale that the Bible scholars have fun debating. Dr. Lance Pap of Brite Divinity Schools calls it a “bizarre little story.” Raj Nadella of Columbia Theological Seminary says this is a parable with “strange aspects.” And Ira Driggers from the Lutheran Theological Southern Seminary claims that this is one story that you won’t find in your children’s Sunday School curriculum. It’s a reading that leaves a pastor like me scratching my head and asking, “Why did I think this would be a good passage to preach on?” We have to take a deep dive into history and scripture before the story begins to make sense. Warning! We are about to wade in some deep waters.
We begin by considering first century weddings. In the ancient Near East, weddings were a source of rejoicing for the whole community. Even within small villages, families would celebrate the wedding of a son by inviting neighbors to a week-long festival of good food, music, and dancing. A royal wedding would have been a truly decadent affair, with fine food, wine, entertainers, and unbridled rejoicing for everyone in the kingdom. An invitation to that event would have been a highly prized sign of great social standing.
Contrary to those norms for first century weddings, when the king in Jesus’s story sent out the invitations, the guests refused to show. What an affront to the royal honor! A second invitation, personally delivered by the king’s servants with a mouth-watering description of the menu, was violently rejected, too. This was an act of treason! First, the king quelled the rebellion, then the wedding was back on. This time, the king invited everyone to attend, good and bad alike. Finally, in a further plot twist, we learn that one of the party guests dishonored the host by showing up without his wedding robe. The ill-clad guest was ejected from the festivities to weep in the darkness outside.
In telling that uncomfortable parable, Jesus was confronting powerful adversaries, the Chief Priests and elders, who had interrupted his teaching in the Temple courts to question his authority. Those religious leaders took one look at Jesus’s broad carpenter’s shoulders and rough callused hands. They heard his Galilean accent. They noticed his simple leather sandals and homespun linen tunic. Their representative bias kicked in. They didn’t see a rabbi. They didn’t see the most insightful Torah scholar of their day. They didn’t see the Messiah. They definitely didn’t see the Son of God. They saw a troublemaker.
With his bizarre little story, Jesus sought to move his critics past their bias to a startling new understanding. “Don’t you know who I am?” Jesus was saying, “The bridegroom is here. The Kingdom is all around us. God’s party is in full swing, right in front of your noses. You’ve got your invitation. Why don’t you come on in, and celebrate?”
Now, we still have to make sense of that poor guest who was ejected for violating the dress code. In a world where we can wear shorts to church, sportscoats are no longer required at nice restaurants, and even Congress has relaxed its standards to accommodate hoodies and sweatpants, we really don’t have a problem with people dressing as they please. To make sense of the whole weird scenario, we need to widen our lens and look elsewhere in scripture.
The Apostle Paul in his Letter to the Ephesians used apparel as a metaphor for the resources we need to face the spiritual battle of daily living. Paul wrote, “take up the whole armor of God. . . belt your waist with truth and put on the breastplate of righteousness. and lace up your sandals in preparation for the gospel of peace. With all of these, take the shield of faith, with which you will be able to quench all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God” (Eph. 6:13-17). Paul believed that we must make a daily, intentional effort to ground and clothe ourselves in our faith in Jesus. That party guest may have accepted the invitation to the wedding feast, but he was just kicking tires and testing the water. He didn’t want to do what was needed to obey the king and acknowledge the authority of the son.
I think the Apostle James makes it even easier to understand. In the second chapter of his epistle, James cautions that “faith without works is dead” (James 2:26). When we trust in Jesus, it changes us and our actions. We find ourselves following in his footsteps – welcoming outsiders, helping vulnerable neighbors, feeding hungry people, seeking to forgive, and even praying for our enemies. In Jesus’s parable, the guest was at the wedding, but he wasn’t clothed in righteousness. He demonstrated none of the changed behaviors that become second nature when our faith is rock solid and Jesus is Lord. In fact, if we page ahead to the Book of Revelation 19:8, we are told that the righteous ones, who live according to God’s ways and rejoice in God’s Kingdom forever, they will wear wedding robes.
Given all that historical and biblical context, this complex parable boils down to some simple questions for us. Are we dressed for success? Do we take time daily to clothe ourselves in Christ and take up that whole armor of God? If God were to take a look at our works, would they reflect the changed heart and transformed mind that are so much a part of following Jesus?
The good news is that we don’t have to do anything to garner that much-desired invitation to the party that God is throwing. All are welcome. We dress the part when we exhibit the love for God and the love for neighbor that Jesus endorsed. When we feast upon God’s word in scripture, when we take it to the Lord in prayer, when we worship and sing songs of praise, we are dressed for success. When we join in the CROP Walk, when we take a bouquet of flowers to someone who needs love, when we share our testimony or serve as an elder or deacon, we are dressed for success. We are sending out those silent cues about who we are and how we should be treated. We are representing as followers of Jesus and guests at the wedding. Don’t we want to be there for the celebration? I do!
The heavenly party is on, my friends. The musicians are tuning up for the wedding march. From the kitchen wafts the savory smell of the fatted calf, roasted to perfection. The garlands have been hung, the doors are open, the table is set, the wedding cake is iced, and the champagne is chilled. There is a place card on the table with our name on it. Jesus says, “How about it friends? Put on your party clothes, break out the boogie shoes, and join me for the celebration.”
Ira Brent Driggers. “Commentary on Matthew 22:1-14” in Preaching This Week, October 12, 2008. Accessed online at workingpreacher.com.
Lance Pape. “Commentary on Matthew 22:1-14” in Preaching This Week, October 12, 2014. Accessed online at workingpreacher.com.
Raj Nadella. “Commentary on Matthew 22:1-14” in Preaching This Week, October 11, 2020. Accessed online at workingpreacher.com.
Matthew 22:1-14
22 Once more Jesus spoke to them in parables, saying: 2 “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son. 3 He sent his slaves to call those who had been invited to the wedding banquet, but they would not come. 4 Again he sent other slaves, saying, ‘Tell those who have been invited: Look, I have prepared my dinner, my oxen and my fat calves have been slaughtered, and everything is ready; come to the wedding banquet.’ 5 But they made light of it and went away, one to his farm, another to his business, 6 while the rest seized his slaves, mistreated them, and killed them. 7 The king was enraged. He sent his troops, destroyed those murderers, and burned their city. 8 Then he said to his slaves, ‘The wedding is ready, but those invited were not worthy. 9 Go therefore into the main streets, and invite everyone you find to the wedding banquet.’ 10 Those slaves went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad, so the wedding hall was filled with guests. 11 But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing a wedding robe, 12 and he said to him, ‘Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?’ And he was speechless. 13 Then the king said to the attendants, ‘Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ 14 For many are called, but few are chosen.”
Sabbath Day Thoughts — “American Idols” Exodus 20:1-4, 7-9, 12-20
For more than twenty years, folks have been tuning in to “American Idol.” We’re glued to ABC on Sunday and Monday nights as gifted vocalists vie for the votes of a select panel of judges and the American public. At stake are a grand prize of $250,000 and a recording contract with Hollywood Records, not to mention plenty of publicity and a national platform to share your talent.
Some “American Idol” winners go on to become superstars, like Kelly Clarkson and Carrie Underwood. Perhaps the most talented American Idol finalist didn’t win. Jennifer Hudson is the youngest woman ever to receive all four major American entertainment awards. Jennifer won an Emmy for producing the animated short film “Baby Yaga.” She has received multiple Grammies, including best R&B recording for her first album. She earned an Oscar for her film debut in “Dream Girls” and a Tony award for producing the Broadway musical “A Strange Loop.” As if that weren’t impressive enough, Jennifer has a top-rated daytime talk show, and she shed eighty pounds while serving as a spokesperson for Weight Watchers.
Our reading from the Book of Exodus features a warning about the danger of idols. The Israelites had escaped slavery in Egypt and were camped at the foot of Mt. Sinai when Moses returned from the mountain top with some special instructions from God. Engraved on two tablets of stone were ten commands intended to guide the lives of the Hebrew people. These ten commandments are the very heart of the moral law of the Judeo-Christian tradition. The first four are all about our relationship with God, and the following six govern our relationship with neighbors. You might even say that living in right relationship within our community grows out of our foundational relationship with God almighty, whom alone we are to worship and serve.
The instructions to worship God alone and to refrain from making any images of God would have been a shock to the people of Israel. They lived in an Ancient Near East world where people worshipped many gods. In Egypt, where they had labored, there were more than 2,000 gods, from Isis, Osiris, and Horus to the latest Pharaoh. In Canaan, where the Israelites were bound, there were 25 deities in the pantheon of gods and spirits. Best known were the storm god of war Baal and the fertility goddess Asherah.
To worship the gods in Egyptian or Canaanite culture, you needed an image. Every cult had a life-sized statue to represent the deity, with a wooden core overlaid by precious metals and gems. Baal was portrayed with human form, a bull’s head, and a cluster of thunderbolts clenched in an upraised fist. Egyptian idols were kept in niches within temples. Each day, priests opened the shrine, cleansed and perfumed the idol with incense, place a crown upon its head, anointed it with oil, and beautified it with cosmetics. In addition to these life-sized cultic idols, families had household idols, small clay, stone or wooden images that represented the gods. These were believed to bring good luck, increase fertility, and ward off evil. With idols in temples and idols at home, the Israelites were steeped in a culture of idolatry.
To worship only one God and to refrain from making any images, that would have been deeply unsettling to the Israelites. Indeed, much of the Old Testament seems to be devoted to their struggle to worship Yahweh alone. Moses spent a little too much tome on the mountain with God and the Israelites forged a golden calf to worship. Solomon formed alliances by marrying foreign brides and permitted them to build temples to foreign gods outside of Jerusalem. Ahab and Jezebel crowned every hilltop with shrines to Baal and Asherah. It would take thousands of years, repeated foreign invasions, and the warnings of countless prophets to convince the Hebrew people that they were meant to have only one God, Yahweh.
To make sense of those first two commandments, it helps to read what our Reformation ancestor John Calvin had to say about them. Calvin pointed out that the Israelites were tempted to make idols and worship other gods because they didn’t trust that God Almighty was with them. The Egyptians and the Canaanites, when they went out to war, they carried life-sized images of their deities with them into battle. They needed to rest their eyes on their idols as physical symbols of the divine presence. How could the Israelites trust that God was with them if they didn’t have a graven image? Those first two commandments: to have no other gods and to refrain from making idols, are all about trust, about knowing that God alone is God and God is always with us. It gets easier to apply those first two commandments to our own lives when we frame them as Calvin did, when we ask ourselves what we are placing our trust in instead of God. What do we rely upon when we should be relying upon God?
In his book American Idols: The Worshipping of the American Dream, author, editor, pastor, and speaker Bob Hostetler suggests that modern day idolatry centers around six core things that Americans put their trust in, instead of God. We place our trust in how we look, prizing physical beauty, fame, athleticism, and public opinion. We place our trust in what we have, valuing our possessions or our accumulated wealth as the remedy for all of life’s challenge. We make an idol of personal comfort, taking the easy way instead of the hard or righteous way. We prize instant gratification, getting what we want when we want it without thought for consequences or costs. We prize choice—we love our liberty, so don’t tell us “No” or suggest that our options are limited. We trust in financial success, believing that our big job and our impressive paycheck can safeguard our future. According to Hostetler, these hallmarks of the American Dream are actually American idols. What are the idols that we see at work in our lives and in our culture? What do we place our trust in when we should be trusting in God?
I’m not saying—and I don’t think Bob Hostetler is saying—that how we look, what we have, our comfort, gratification, liberty, or financial success are bad things. The problem comes when we trust in these when we should be trusting in God, when they preoccupy our time and attention, when they impinge upon our relationships with our neighbors. I tell the confirmation students that the most important relationship that they will ever have is their relationship with God. That’s where we come from. That’s where we will one day return. Everything that comes in between the cradle and the grave is God’s gracious gift to us. Life is best lived when it is built around the Holy One who blesses us beyond measure, who is always with us, even when we do not have eyes to see and ears to hear that holy presence.
No one knows the power of God alone to sustain us better than “American Idol” finalist Jennifer Hudson. JHUD, as she is called, began singing with her church choir at the age of seven. When asked, Jennifer says that her faith is the biggest part of her. She sees her creative abilities as a God-given gift, meant to give glory to God and serve others. She is refreshingly open about her beliefs. Her Twitter feed has featured photos of Jennifer praying with her team. She says, “We like to give the credit where the credit is due.” In a powerful interview with Oprah Winfrey, Hudson opened up about the importance of her faith, saying, “I always say the greatest git our mother gave us was introducing us to Christ and bringing us up in church. I feel like that’s the base. That’s the foundation, and that’s what keeps me grounded, and I think of it every day.” I think JHUD schooled Oprah in those first two commandments.
In 2008, when Jennifer Hudson ‘s family suffered a terrible tragedy, it was her faith that brought her through. Her brother-in-law William Balfour, angered by his crumbling marriage to Jennifer’s sister, shot and killed her mother, brother, and seven-year-old nephew. It was a senseless, brutal, triple homicide for which Balfour showed no remorse. Shortly after Balfour was sentenced to life in prison without parole, Jennifer and her sister released a statement, “We want to extend a prayer from the Hudson family to the Balfour family. We have all suffered a terrible loss in this tragedy . . . it is our prayer that the Lord will forgive Mr. Balfour of these heinous acts and bring his heart to repentance.” When asked how she could find forgiveness for the man who murdered her family, JHUD points to Jesus on the cross who forgave even those who mocked and murdered him. It’s a humbling reminder that a life lived in accord with those first two commandments, a life built around God, can sustain us, whether we are Israelites in the wilderness or survivors of personal tragedy.
It all begins with those first two commandments. “You shall have no other gods before Yahweh. You shall not make for yourself an idol, whether in the form of anything that is in heaven above or that is on the earth beneath or that is in the water under the earth.” May we go forth to trust in God alone. Amen.
Resources:
Nancy deClaisse-Walford. “Commentary on Exodus 20:1-4, 7-9, 12-20” in Preaching This Week, Oct. 5, 2008. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.
Anathea Portier-Young. “Commentary on Exodus 20:1-4, 7-9, 12-20” in Preaching This Week, Oct. 8, 2017. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.
Edward, M. Curtis. “Idol, Idolatry” in The Anchor Bible Dictionary, vol. 3 H-J. New York: Doubleday, 1992, 376-381.
John Calvin. Institutes of the Christian Religion.
Bob Hostetler. American Idols: The Worship of the American Dream. New York: B&H Books, 2006.
Sam Hailes. “Jennifer Hudson: ‘My Christian Faith Couldn’t Be Any Stronger’ in Premier Christianity, August 24, 2021. Accessed online at premierchristianity.com.
Exodus 20:1-4, 7-9, 12-20
20Then God spoke all these words: 2I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery; 3you shall have no other gods before me. 4You shall not make for yourself an idol, whether in the form of anything that is in heaven above, or that is on the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. 7You shall not make wrongful use of the name of the Lord your God, for the Lord will not acquit anyone who misuses his name. 8Remember the sabbath day, and keep it holy. 9Six days you shall labor and do all your work.
12Honor your father and your mother, so that your days may be long in the land that the Lord your God is giving you. 13You shall not murder. 14You shall not commit adultery. 15You shall not steal. 16You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor. 17You shall not covet your neighbor’s house; you shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, or male or female slave, or ox, or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor.
18When all the people witnessed the thunder and lightning, the sound of the trumpet, and the mountain smoking, they were afraid and trembled and stood at a distance, 19and said to Moses, “You speak to us, and we will listen; but do not let God speak to us, or we will die.” 20Moses said to the people, “Do not be afraid; for God has come only to test you and to put the fear of him upon you so that you do not sin.”
Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Water in the Desert” Exodus 17:1-7
We all complain from time to time. I know I complained about all the rain we got this summer. It turned the community garden into a swamp, made some of my favorite trails mud bowls, and had me living in my raincoat. I felt like webbing would soon be sprouting between my toes, and I was weary of drying the tummy of our very short puppy. Perhaps you gripe about your spouse forgetting to take the garbage out, or the kids putting the juice carton back in the fridge with barely a sip in it, or your boss never being on time for anything. Researchers have found that we typically complain twenty to thirty times every day.
Complaint can be useful. Behaviorists say that instrumental complaint is goal oriented and change seeking. Think about those brave parents who lost children to gun violence at the Sandy Hook Elementary School. They have gone on to become effective spokespeople and lobbyists for tougher gun laws. Think about Greta Thunberg and other youthful climate activists, who are heightening global awareness of climate change. These practitioners of instrumental complaint speak out about painful realities in ways that bring change.
But for some people complaint can become a deeply ingrained habit that fails to see the good in anything. Behaviorists call this mode of chronic grumbling expressive complaint. These are complaints that aren’t in search of a solution; instead, they are a bid for attention, affirmation, or sympathy. We all have encountered people who are chronic complainers, dissatisfied with their experience and eager to tell us all about it.
If you are a longtime Saturday Night Live fan, you may remember Doug and Wendy Whiner, who always had something to complain about. In one Whiner skit, Doug and Wendy won a tour of NYC. First, they complained because they really wanted to visit Toledo and they hated New York. Next, they griped at the top of the Empire State Building, “Wendy, there are too many buildings! Ooo, Doug, this height makes me feel sick!” Then, they qvetch about an al fresco meal at a street vendor, “We have to wait in line. There’s no menu. Hotdogs inflame our diverticulitis.” The litany of complaint continues until, in response to all that complaint, the tour hosts arrange for the ultimate NYC experience for the Whiners: a mugging.
A study conducted by the Department of Biology and Clinical Psychology of Friedrich Schiller University found that hearing others complain raises our blood pressure and pumps the stress hormone cortisol into our bloodstream. Another study indicates that listening to thirty minutes of negativity, whether it is in person or on the television, can actually damage the neurons in our hippocampus. That’s the part of our brain that we rely on for problem solving. Professor Robin Kowalski at Clemson University has demonstrated that complaint is contagious. When we complain to someone, they are likely to follow suit, complaining to others. Kowalski says that chronic expressive complaint increases our dissatisfaction while decreasing our joy, sociability, productivity, creativity, and initiative. Maybe, just by talking about the effects of complaint, I’ve got your blood pressure and cortisol levels rising.
In our reading from Exodus, the Israelites were complaining. In fairness, they had faced hardship that might make any of us grumble. Finally free from slavery in Egypt, our Hebrew ancestors anticipated a better life in the wilderness. But at Marah, the water was bitter and undrinkable, and they complained against Moses, “What shall we drink?” Later, the Israelites grew weary of their limited diet, “If only we had died by the hand of the Lord in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the stewpots and ate our fill of bread; for you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill the whole assembly with hunger.” In response to both crises, God provided what was needed. At Marah, the Lord showed Moses how to turn the bitter water sweet. Then, to meet their hunger, God had sent bread from heaven (manna) every morning, and in the evening, quails came up to cover the camp.
With all God’s generous providence, freely shared in response to every crisis, we expect the Israelites to trust more and complain less. But in today’s reading, as the water ran low, the complaining began. I imagine it started with some family grumbling, “I don’t like how little water is left in our skin.” It escalated to a community gripe, “You’d think that Moses would have better planned this trip. Where’s the spring?” As the days grew long and fresh water was nowhere to be seen, images of parched children and foundering livestock lurched across their imaginations. So, the Israelites unloaded on Moses, “Why did you bring us out of Egypt to kill us with thirst?”
In tough times, our concerns can get the best of us. Our anxiety and fear may even explode into a cascade of complaints. We imagine that the worst is right around the corner, we face it alone, and we don’t have what it takes to survive. We think our difficult diagnosis is a harbinger of future suffering and a terrible death. We’re sure our money troubles will lead to bankruptcy and homelessness. One more school shooting and we’re looking to move the family to Canada. One more act of terror and we want to close the borders. When we put our individual worries together and indulge in collective complaint, our families and communities can become highly anxious and filled with fear.
Given the ungracious tone of the Israelite’s complaint, we might expect God to say, “You want to go back to Egypt? Be my guest!” But God responds with compassion and providence. Like a concerned parent who picks up their fussing child, God loves us even when we are at our whiniest, even when we forget that God is generous and present and deeply aware of our needs. God sent Moses and the elders out ahead of the people, and God worked another miracle. The beleaguered Moses took his staff and struck the rock at Horeb. Suddenly, all the grumbling and grousing, griping and complaining, transformed to shouts of “Alleluia!” as fresh, clear water spilled forth to meet the people’s thirst.
There will always be something to complain about. Life can feel a bit like the wilderness. There will always be health issues and money concerns, natural disasters, senseless violence, and acts of terror. Occasionally, a little full-blown lamentation is in order. Yet when our complaint escalates into chronic expressive complaint and catastrophic thinking, we forget that there is water in the desert, and we indulge in a dark spirituality of anxiety that denies the goodness, compassion, and presence of God.
Those same researchers who have explored the nature of complaint have also determined that some simple everyday practices can be invaluable in shifting our focus from the negative to the positive. We begin by taking time to be present in the moment and notice what is good, here and now. Take time to simply use your senses. Attend to the beauty of changing leaves setting the mountainside on fire, the piping song of the cedar waxwings as they gorge on berries, the gift of love and intimacy, the breath of our child as we bend down to kiss them goodnight, the thump of the dog’s tail when we give him a good scratch. Our lives are filled with blessing. Research has proven that people who cultivate a practice of noticing those everyday blessings are happier than the rest of us and much less likely to engage in destructive expressive complaint.
Researchers also say that we can cultivate an enhanced sense of gratitude for our blessings by naming them. My Facebook feed this week has been reminding me that nine years ago I was in the midst of “The Gratitude Challenge,” posting three things for which I was grateful, every day for a week. Nine years ago yesterday, I was grateful for all the carrots I grew in my garden; the taste of homemade tabouleh with fresh parsley, lemon juice, and mint; and the practice of journaling, which I have done for more than 30 years. Whether we are on Facebook or not, we could take time daily to not only notice the good in our lives but to name it. Post it on-line. Write it in your journal. Share it with your family as you sit down to dinner. I suspect that as we share with one another those simple celebrations, we’ll feel happier and better equipped to manage the moments that make us want to complain.
Perhaps our faith can be our greatest resource in facing all that makes us want to grumble and gripe. Just as God worked to deliver Israel from slavery, hunger, and thirst, we can remember that God has been at work in our past, too. God has healed our hurting bodies. God has sheltered our children through those tough years. God has sustained us in work places that have felt a lot like the wilderness. God has held our marriages together through tough times. We can trust that God, who has worked in the past, is working even now – and will work in the future. God is faithful, active, and trustworthy. Alleluia!
Well, my friends, there will always be something to complain about. But there is water in the desert. God is at work. Attend to your blessings. Share them with others. Hold fast to the faith that is in you.
Resources:
Matthew Schlimm. “Commentary on Exodus 17:1-7” in Preaching This Week, Oct. 1, 2023. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.
Terence Fretheim. “Commentary on Exodus 17:1-7” in Preaching This Week, March 15, 2020. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.
Anathea Portier-Young. “Commentary on Exodus 17:1-7” in Preaching This Week, Oct. 1, 2017. Accessed online at workingpreacher.org.
Walker Meade. “Chronic Complaining” in The Herald Tribune (Sarasota), August 10, 2010. Accessed on-line at heraldtribune.com.
Dennis Prager. “Why Complaining Is Bad for Your Health” in Buzzle, September 26, 2013. Accessed on-line at Buzzle.com
Minda Zetlin. “Listening to Complainers Is Bad for Your Brain” in The Huffington Post, September 12, 2012. Accessed on-line at huffpost.com.
Exodus 17:1-7
From the wilderness of Sin the whole congregation of the Israelites journeyed by stages, as the Lord commanded. They camped at Rephidim, but there was no water for the people to drink. 2The people quarreled with Moses, and said, “Give us water to drink.” Moses said to them, “Why do you quarrel with me? Why do you test the Lord?” 3But the people thirsted there for water; and the people complained against Moses and said, “Why did you bring us out of Egypt, to kill us and our children and livestock with thirst?” 4So Moses cried out to the Lord, “What shall I do with this people? They are almost ready to stone me.” 5The Lord said to Moses, “Go on ahead of the people, and take some of the elders of Israel with you; take in your hand the staff with which you struck the Nile, and go. 6I will be standing there in front of you on the rock at Horeb. Strike the rock, and water will come out of it, so that the people may drink.” Moses did so, in the sight of the elders of Israel. 7He called the place Massah and Meribah, because the Israelites quarreled and tested the Lord, saying, “Is the Lord among us or not?”
Joann White 