Author: reverendjoannwhite

Blessed in the Struggle

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Blessed in the Struggle” Gen. 32:22-31

At the age of two, doctors said that Temple had brain damage. She would never talk or be able to function in a home or school setting. “The best option is to institutionalize the child,” they told her parents. Temple’s father agreed, but her mother refused. Instead, she found a neurologist who provided Temple with speech therapy, and she hired a nanny to play games with the little girl. As she grew, school was an agony for Temple. She was ridiculed and taunted for being a nerdy kid with strange behaviors. She earned the nickname “human tape recorder” for perseverating, obsessively repeating word for word whatever was said to her.

Terry was a young athlete with a winning personality and a lot of heart. He played basketball and ran cross country in high school and was awarded the distinction of Athlete of the Year as a senior. He headed to college to study kinesiology with the hope of becoming a physical education teacher. That spring, growing pain in Terry’s right knee sent him to the doctor. Testing found that he had osteosarcoma, a form of cancer that often starts near the knees. Terry was told that his leg had to be amputated, and he would require extended chemotherapy. His odds of survival were only fifty percent.

Maya spent her childhood in and out of poverty, shuttled between the homes of her parents, grandparents, and divorced mother. As a little Black girl in the south, she had limited opportunity for school, but her teachers noticed from a young age that she had a gift for poetry. When Maya was seven, she was sent to live with her mother. There she was sexually abused by her mother’s boyfriend Freeman. She told her brother, who told the rest of the family. Freeman was found guilty but was jailed only one day for his crime. Four days after his release, Freeman was found dead, probably killed by Maya’s uncles. The little girl was so traumatized by her experience that she became mute for almost five years, believing she was to blame for the man’s death.

We all have endured struggle. Like Temple, we may contend with learning disabilities, school bias, and bullying. Like Terry, we grapple with devastating diagnoses and major health crises. Like Maya, we have known poverty and hardship, abuse and trauma. No life is without moments when we feel that we are fighting for our lives, in the struggle with everything we’ve got, hoping against hope for some sort of blessing.

Jacob knew all about struggle, but much of his battle was of his own making. Twenty years before the events of our reading from Genesis 32, Jacob fled his home in Canaan. He had tried to swindle his brother Esau out of his birthright as the firstborn, and then he duped his blind father into granting him the patriarchal blessing. When Jacob had left home, he was running for his life, one step ahead of Esau, who was ready to kill him. Now as Jacob returned to Canaan, he was again worried about brother Esau. Word had come that Esau was on his way to meet Jacob, accompanied by 400 men. Although Jacob had sent his wives and children and ample herds ahead to appease his brother, Jacob feared the worst.

Things shifted for Temple when she spent the summer before her senior year in high school on her aunt’s farm. There, Temple found that she had a special affinity for animals. If her schoolmates ridiculed her, animals were drawn to her. She understood their feelings and behavior in ways that others could not. Temple noticed that typical farming practices, from medical care to slaughter, panicked and traumatized animals. She began to imagine inventions that could make the treatment of animals more humane. When she returned to school for her senior year, she had a science teacher who was a former Nasa scientist Robert Carlock. He began mentoring Temple and encouraged her to build her first invention, the hugbox, which held animals firmly in place while they were tended.

With the help of a prosthetic limb, Terry Fox was walking three weeks after the amputation of his right leg. Terry had a positive outlook that impressed doctors. That summer, Rick Hansen of the Canadian Wheelchair Sports Association, invited Terry to try out for his wheelchair basketball team. Less than two months after learning how to play the sport, Terry became a member of the team. He would go on to win three national titles with the team, and was named an all-star by the North American Wheelchair Basketball Association.

Maya slowly found her voice through her love of poetry. One of her teachers, Mrs. Bertha Flowers, told the teenaged Maya who still struggled with mutism, “You do not love poetry, not until you speak it.” Mrs. Flowers encouraged Maya’s writing, introducing her to the work of William Shakespeare, James Weldon Johnson, and Black female artists like Frances Harper and Anne Spencer. Maya wrote. In her first book, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, Maya told the story of her life from the age of three to the age of sixteen. Maya described her transformation from a victim of racism to a self-possessed young woman capable of responding to prejudice. Her work was nominated for the National Book Award and remained on the New York Times bestseller list for two years.

Jacob spent a long night wrestling. In the Jewish tradition, they say that Jacob wrestled with an angel. Some modern interpreters say that Jacob wrestled with himself, with his deceitful past, with his need to seek reconciliation with his brother and make a fresh start as a patriarch and father of a nation. Jacob believed that he wrestled with God. All night long they grappled. As the sun rose, Jacob found he was alone, wounded but blessed, ready to meet his brother and start a new life.

We have all endured struggles. Sometimes, like Temple, Terry, Maya, and Jacob, we may even find that we are blessed in the struggle. We discover that we have unique abilities and a calling to use those gifts. We find the right attitude to meet the challenge and head off in a new direction. We rise above our trauma and see that we have a voice that can help and bless others who struggle. We grow, transforming in ways that we never expected. At some point in the struggle, we may even realize that we aren’t wrestling with God. Instead, God is on our side as we wrestle with the adversity that touches every life. We, too, emerge from our struggles wounded, but blessed.

Dr. Temple Grandin was one of the first adults to publicly disclose that she was autistic. Her work broke down years of shame and stigma. She is a prominent proponent of the humane treatment of livestock for slaughter, and the author of more than 60 scientific papers on animal behavior. Her research and inventions have revolutionized livestock handling, transport, and slaughter. In 2010, Temple was named in the Time Magazine list of the one hundred most influential people in the world.

In 1980, Terry Fox launched an epic attempt to run across Canada to raise funds and awareness for cancer research. He began in April, dipping his prosthetic leg into the Atlantic, and in the first days of his run was met by gale-force winds, heavy rain, and a snowstorm. As he racked up the miles, Terry’s fame spread and so did the donations to the Canadian Cancer Society. He was forced to end his run in Thuder Bay, Ontario, after 143 days and 3,339 miles when chest pain and coughing led to testing that determined that Terry’s cancer had returned. Terry’s run raised about $23 million for cancer research. He died in 1981, but an annual run in his honor is the world’s largest one-day fundraiser for cancer research, and over $900 million has been raised in his name.

May Angelou was a poet, playwright, director, actor, Civil Rights activist, and public speaker. In 1993, Angelou recited her poem “On the Pulse of Morning” at the first inauguration of President Bill Clinton. Maya was respected as a spokesperson for Black people and women, and her works have been considered a defense of Black culture. Her books are used in schools and universities worldwide, although attempts have been made to ban her books from some U.S. libraries. Maya received three Grammys for her spoken-word albums. She was awarded the Spingarn Medal, the National Medal of Arts, and the Presidential Medal of Freedom.

After his long night of wrestling, Jacob was finally reunited with his brother Esau. The two men embraced, Esau weeping to see Jacob after so many years of alienation and separation. They made peace and went their separate ways. Each man became the father of a nation.

We all have endured struggle. We all bear wounds. May we remember that God is with us, not against us, in the grappling. May we all be blessed.

Resources

Amy Merrill Willis. “Commentary on Genesis 32:22-31” in Preaching This Week, August 2, 2020. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-18/commentary-on-genesis-3222-31

Mark S. Smith. “Commentary on Genesis 32:22-31” in Preaching This Week, August 6, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-18/commentary-on-genesis-3222-31-13

Wil Gafney. “Commentary on Genesis 32:22-31” in Preaching This Week, July 31, 2011. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-18/commentary-on-genesis-3222-31-2

Terry Fox Foundation. “A Dream as Big as Our Country.” https://terryfox.org/terrys-story/

“Terry Fox.” Encyclopedia Britannica, 17 Oct. 2025, https://www.britannica.com/facts/Terry-Fox. Accessed 17 October 2025.

Temple Grandin. “About Temple Grandin.”  Accessed online at https://www.templegrandin.com/

The Information Architects of Encyclopedia Britannica. “Temple Grandin”. Encyclopedia Britannica, 17 Oct. 2025, https://www.britannica.com/facts/Temple-Grandin. Accessed 17 October 2025.

Maya Angelou. “And Still I Rise,” documentary first aired winter 2017. BBC One Imagine. https://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=and+still+i+rise+documentary&view=detail&mid=653D576936E13F10B2B8653D576936E13F10B2B8&FORM=VIRE

Genesis 32:22-31

22 The same night he got up and took his two wives, his two maids, and his eleven children and crossed the ford of the Jabbok. 23 He took them and sent them across the stream, and likewise everything that he had. 24 Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him until daybreak. 25 When the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, he struck him on the hip socket, and Jacob’s hip was put out of joint as he wrestled with him. 26 Then he said, “Let me go, for the day is breaking.” But Jacob said, “I will not let you go, unless you bless me.” 27 So he said to him, “What is your name?” And he said, “Jacob.” 28 Then the man said, “You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with humans and have prevailed.” 29 Then Jacob asked him, “Please tell me your name.” But he said, “Why is it that you ask my name?” And there he blessed him. 30 So Jacob called the place Peniel, saying, “For I have seen God face to face, yet my life is preserved.” 31 The sun rose upon him as he passed Penuel, limping because of his hip.

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Healing Help

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Healing Help” 2 Kings 5:1-15

October is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month. It all got started in 1985 as a week-long awareness campaign by the American Cancer Society. Breast cancer is the most commonly diagnosed cancer for women, accounting for about 30% of cancer cases. One in eight women will be diagnosed with breast cancer in their lifetimes. This year, 316,950 American women and 2,800 men will be diagnosed with breast cancer. This year, two million women will be diagnosed around the world. There are about 4 million breast cancer survivors in the U.S., including women now receiving breast cancer treatment.

My experience with breast cancer began in May of 2023 when my annual screening turned up unusual findings that needed a biopsy. Although my sister was a breast cancer survivor, it never really occurred to me that I could have breast cancer. Our clean Adirondack living, active lifestyle, and healthy diet seemed the perfect antidote for health troubles, but my biopsy results said otherwise. Soon, I was undergoing more tests, choosing a surgeon and oncologist, and undergoing multiple operations. It was a dizzying, overwhelming experience. I would need help.

Naaman needed help. As commander of the Aramean army, Naaman was one of the most powerful men in the Ancient Near East. He was wealthy and well-connected. He owned slaves and property. He hobnobbed with kings. Naaman spoke and his soldiers listened, racing into battle to win victory against their Hebrew opponents. Yet despite his power and privilege, Naaman was unable to find healing for his leprosy, a progressively debilitating skin disease that carried social stigma. Naaman’s leprosy troubled him enough that he was willing to go to great lengths to seek a cure. Naaman’s disease troubled others, too. His household buzzed with concern and compassion for their powerful master who could vanquish Israel but couldn’t find the relief that he needed from his illness.

We have all had times when we, or our beloved ones, have needed help. The doctor calls with a scary diagnosis. A bad fall causes chronic pain or lasting disability. A case of COVID leads to life-limiting chronic fatigue. That breathlessness we experience when climbing the stairs turns out to be COPD or heart trouble. Our forgetfulness points to an underlying neurological issue. Our child’s school struggles get labeled with letters that we don’t understand or want to hear: ADHD, OCD, DCD, EFD or ODD, and it all feels like TMI. Whether we or our beloved ones suffer, sometimes we all need help.

Naaman’s help began with the least powerful and most vulnerable member of his household, a Hebrew slave girl. She remembered her life in Israel, before she became a war captive, and the story of a Hebrew prophet whose healing gifts came from God Almighty. Surely, this prophet could heal her master’s affliction. When Naaman’s wife took up the cause, urging her husband to seek the help of Aram’s enemy, the slave girl’s compassion launched an international healing expedition. The King of Aram got involved, writing a persuasive letter of introduction and sending Naaman to Israel with a king’s ransom: 750 pounds of silver, 6,000 pieces of gold, and ten costly, bespoke Armani suits. Naaman would need the help of the King of Israel, too, to find Elisha, the prophet whose reputation had started the healing quest.

Naaman’s healing journey almost came to a screeching halt when he arrived at the home of the prophet. It must have been an impressive entourage that rolled up to Elisha’s house: horses, chariots, a cartful of treasure, a retinue of servants. But the prophet wouldn’t come out. A servant informed the mighty Naaman that healing could be found in the muddy waters of the Jordan. All he had to do was get naked and immerse himself seven times. To the Aramean general, that sounded more like a recipe for public humiliation than healing.

When we or our beloved ones face those big health challenges, it can be hard to ask for or accept the help that is offered. As a seminarian, more than twenty-five years ago, I was taught that pastors had to have big boundaries with their people in the pews. Sharing a personal crisis or news of health worries was frowned upon. Clearly those academics had never lived in a small town, where we tend to know one another’s business, whether we want to or not. Clearly those experts had never served a church for more than a decade in which lives are closely interwoven through weddings, births, and deaths; health crises, major milestones, and joyous celebrations. All the same, Duane and I debated what to share. In the end, we decided to break the news of my breast cancer to the session and then share it with the whole congregation. It felt uncomfortable and vulnerable, but I trusted that it was best for me and best for the church, that I was modeling a healthy openness that I hoped others would practice, too.

It would take a final act of help to convince the general to peel off his clothes and enter the water. Using tender language that suggests real affection, the servants interceded, saying to Naaman, “Father, if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, you would have done it.  Why not try something simple?” Their master had come so far. He had endured so much. “Take the risk,” they urged, “Enter the water.” What did Naaman really have to lose, other than his leprosy?

Encouraged by their words and touched by their care, the mighty man of valor entered the Jordan. His feet sank into the mud and silt. The swirling, murky water rose to his ankles and knees. It surged above his waist and chest. Holding his breath, Naaman ducked beneath the watery darkness, seven times down and seven times up, hoping for a miracle. All the while, his retinue watched with hopeful hearts and fervent prayers.

When I shared the news of my cancer diagnosis, I didn’t realize that it would open the door to help that blessed my journey to healing. I heard from other women who I didn’t even know were breast cancer survivors. They reassured and encouraged me. Our church cooks hit the kitchen and dropped off tasty hot dishes that kept us well-fed. The Estlings took care of our corgi Gybi, who made a best friend forever in Mason’s dog York. Folks sent beautiful bouquets of flowers, and my food pantry friends surprised me with two enormous mums. The prayer chain bathed me in healing prayers, and my mailbox overflowed with cards and notes. A special offering even helped with the overwhelming costs of healthcare. I was wading in the waters of cancer treatment, and the church was right there, with hopeful hearts and good help for my healing journey. How blessed I was!

God healed Naaman’s leprosy, but the miracle would never have happened if the mighty man of valor hadn’t had a lot of help along the way. After his seventh time down into the murky waters, Naaman waded back to the river bank. Perhaps it felt like a holy tingle or a soothing tide of sudden warmth. Or, maybe it felt like an end to years of constant pain or a return of feeling to long dead flesh. The naked general stood on the banks of the Jordan and looked down at his body. He flexed his fingers and kicked up his heals. His disease was gone! Naaman rejoiced, and the community celebrated right along with him with shouts of “Alleluia!” and “Praise the Lord!” and “There is a God in Israel!”

Naaman’s story reminds us that healing is a communal journey. Our quest for wholeness finds unexpected blessing when we dare to share our news and accept the help of those we trust. As we accompany others through tough times, we find that we have gifts to share that make a healing difference. We may not be super-star surgeons, seasoned oncologists, or skilled physical therapists, but when we show up with simple kindness, encouragement takes root and hope abounds for those who may feel they walk alone. In reaching out with compassion, we follow in the footsteps of Jesus and the disciples he sent out before him to help and heal.

As Breast Cancer Awareness Month continues, there will be fundraising walks across the nation that unite communities in supporting the breast cancer cause. Survivors will lead the way in Survivor Celebration Walks. Memorial Miles will be dedicated to those who lost their breast cancer battle. Family Fun Walks will include shorter routes to inspire all ages. Workplaces will get in on the action, too. Offices will express solidarity with Pink Out Fridays or department fundraising competitions creating friendly rivalry between teams. Women will schedule their annual mammograms and encourage friends and family to do the same. Our thoughts will turn to someone we know who lives with breast cancer or has been affected by the disease. We’ll check in with them, ask how they are doing, and offer our healing help. Amen.

Resources

Julianna Claasens. “Commentary on 2 Kings 5:1-3, 7-15c” in Preaching This Week, Oct. 12, 2025. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-28-3/commentary-on-2-kings-51-3-7-15c-6

Kathryn Schifferdecker. “Commentary on 2 Kings 5:1-3, 7-15c” in Preaching This Week, Oct. 9, 2016. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-28-3/commentary-on-2-kings-51-3-7-15c-2

Rachel Wrenn. “Commentary on 2 Kings 5:1-3, 7-15c” in Preaching This Week, Oct. 9, 2022. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-28-3/commentary-on-2-kings-51-3-7-15c-5

Roger Nam. “Commentary on 2 Kings 5:1-3, 7-15c” in Preaching This Week, Oct. 13, 2013. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-28-3/commentary-on-2-kings-51-3-7-15c-3

American Cancer Society. Breast Cancer Facts & Figures 2024-2025. ACS: Atlanta, 2024.

2 Kings 5:1-15

5 Naaman, commander of the army of the king of Aram, was a great man and in high favor with his master because by him the Lord had given victory to Aram. The man, though a mighty warrior, suffered from a skin disease. 2 Now the Arameans on one of their raids had taken a young girl captive from the land of Israel, and she served Naaman’s wife. 3 She said to her mistress, “If only my lord were with the prophet who is in Samaria! He would cure him of his skin disease.” 4 So Naaman went in and told his lord just what the girl from the land of Israel had said. 5 And the king of Aram said, “Go, then, and I will send along a letter to the king of Israel.”

He went, taking with him ten talents of silver, six thousand shekels of gold, and ten sets of garments. 6 He brought the letter to the king of Israel, which read, “When this letter reaches you, know that I have sent to you my servant Naaman, that you may cure him of his skin disease.” 7 When the king of Israel read the letter, he tore his clothes and said, “Am I God, to give death or life, that this man sends word to me to cure a man of his skin disease? Just look and see how he is trying to pick a quarrel with me.”

8 But when Elisha the man of God heard that the king of Israel had torn his clothes, he sent a message to the king, “Why have you torn your clothes? Let him come to me, that he may learn that there is a prophet in Israel.” 9 So Naaman came with his horses and chariots and halted at the entrance of Elisha’s house. 10 Elisha sent a messenger to him, saying, “Go, wash in the Jordan seven times, and your flesh shall be restored, and you shall be clean.” 11 But Naaman became angry and went away, saying, “I thought that for me he would surely come out and stand and call on the name of the Lord his God and would wave his hand over the spot and cure the skin disease! 12 Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them and be clean?” He turned and went away in a rage. 13 But his servants approached and said to him, “Father, if the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it? How much more, when all he said to you was, ‘Wash, and be clean’?” 14 So he went down and immersed himself seven times in the Jordan, according to the word of the man of God; his flesh was restored like the flesh of a young boy, and he was clean.

15 Then he returned to the man of God, he and all his company; he came and stood before him and said, “Now I know that there is no God in all the earth except in Israel; please accept a present from your servant.”

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Extraordinary Love

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Extraordinary Love” Luke 6:27-38

On June 17, 2015, twenty-one-year-old white supremacist Dylann Roof entered the Mother Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church and made his way to a basement classroom where Reverend Clementa Pinckney was leading the Wednesday night Bible Study. Dylann was warmly welcomed. He took a seat next to Rev. Pinckney and listened silently for forty-five minutes. As Bible Study participants rose to hold hands for a closing prayer, Dylann Roof pulled out a hand gun and opened fire, killing nine church members and wounding three others.

Dylann had been radicalized in a classroom of his own making, doom scrolling daily through white nationalist websites. He penned a manifesto that stated his belief that the white race was in danger and “no one [was] doing anything but talking on the internet.” In Dylann Roof’s mind, someone needed to take action, and he was the man to do it. When asked about his motive for the attack, Dylann Roof said that he had hoped to ignite a race war. He has never apologized or repented for his actions.

“Love your enemies, do what is good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. . . Be merciful, just as your Father also is merciful… Forgive, and you will be forgiven.” Jesus’ words from the Sermon on the Plain are among his most challenging and uncomfortable teachings. In the first century world, members of a community looked to their leaders to set the moral standard for their conduct—a synagogue leader, a wise rabbi, the family patriarch or matriarch, perhaps even Herod or the emperor set the moral tone for those who followed. But Jesus told his followers that they must look to God as their ethical guide and seek to release people from the retribution that they may deserve.

In November of 1957, when the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. reflected on Jesus’ words in his sermon, “Love Your Enemies,” he emphasized that love is the ethical choice that Christians must make in a world where we may not like our experience. King reminded his congregation that Christian love is agape, the selfless love of God working in the lives of men. Instead of retaliating when we are mistreated, we can choose to extend to others the love that God has for us. That divine love can live in us and enable us to reach out to others. Indeed, King wrote, you can love the enemy, even when you do not like what he is doing to you. You can love your enemy who denies your right to vote. You can love your enemy who refuses to pay you a living wage. You can love your enemy who threatens you with lynching. King believed that when we dare to put the selfless love of God to work in dealing with our opponents, we can wear out the hater, break down barriers, and redeem the enemy.

Long before June 17, 2015, the Mother Emanuel Church contended with hate. The church was founded in 1816 by free and enslaved Black people of Charleston who wished to worship together as a community of color. Six years later, church member Denmark Vesey, a freed slave who worked as a carpenter, planned and organized an uprising of city and plantation Blacks. Inspired by the successful revolt of Haitian slaves in 1790, Vesey called for rebels to attack guardhouses and arsenals, seize arms, and free the enslaved people. Authorities were tipped off on the eve of the insurrection, and Vesey with thirty-five of his conspirators, many of them members of Mother Emanuel Church, were hanged. The church was burned to the ground and Black houses of worship were banned. The congregation of Mother Emanuel met in secret from 1822 until 1865, after the Civil War. Later, in the 20th century, Mother Emanuel faced threats of violence for hosting prominent Black leaders, like Booker T. Washington and Martin Luther King Jr., and organizing significant civil rights events, like Coretta Scott King’s march for local hospital workers in 1966. Rev. Clementa Pinckney, who was killed by Dylann Roof, taught that despite a history of suffering, Mother Emanuel was a place that sought to continue to “work on the hearts, minds, and spirits of all people.”

“Love your enemies, do what is good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. . . Be merciful, just as your Father also is merciful… Forgive, and you will be forgiven.” Our world today works in transactional and reciprocal ways. You scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours. We don’t get mad; we just get even. Payback time is gonna’ come. What we experience dictates how we will respond. It’s an escalating pattern of retribution that seems to never end. We find it hard to make different choices. And if we were to look to national leaders to set the moral tone for our conduct, then we would hate our opponents, and we wouldn’t want the best for them.

Truly, the only way to step out of the spiral of vengeance and hate is to consider the mercy of God to us. Though we are sinners, deserving of judgment, God chose to become flesh and enter the world’s darkness. In Jesus, God chose to live for us and show to us the way of agape. In the ultimate act of self-giving love, on a merciless cross, flanked by common criminals, Jesus revealed that God loves us enough to die for us. In the enormity of God’s costly love for us, we begin to see another way. We begin to see that only love can heal hearts, transform an enemy into a friend, and make a changed future possible.

48 hours after having lost mothers, sisters, sons, husbands, and wives, members of the Mother Emanuel Church appeared in court for Dylann Roof’s bond hearing. It was the first time any of them would come face to face with the perpetrator of the hate crime that had robbed them of their beloved ones. The judge presiding over the hearing invited them to make a statement, should they wish. First to speak was Nadine Collier, who lost her mother Ethel Lance. Fighting back tears, Nadine said, “I forgive you … You took something really precious from me. I will never talk to her ever again, I will never be able to hold her again, but I forgive you and have mercy on your soul.” Other church members followed suit and said that they, too, forgave the gunman.

Chris Singleton, an eighteen-year-old who lost his Mom in the mass shooting, wasn’t in the courtroom on that day. He was playing minor league baseball for the Chicago Cubs. He wasn’t following the news and had no idea that the families had decided to issue statements of forgiveness at the hearing, but half a country away, Chris came to the same conclusion. He needed to forgive. Chris says he hopes that the choice for mercy has made a difference. Chris says, “After seeing what happened [at the church] and the reason why it happened, and after seeing how people could forgive, I truly hope that people will see that it wasn’t just us saying words. I know, for a fact, that it was something greater than us, using us to bring our city together.”

Ronald J. Allen, who taught preaching and New Testament at the Christian Theological Seminary in Indianapolis for many years, taught that putting Jesus’ ethical teaching into action can have powerful consequences for our oppressor, ourselves, and our world. In extending love and mercy to those who have wronged us, we open the door to their repentance. As Rev. Pinckney said, our mercy “works on the heart, mind, and spirit” of the other and awakens the possibility for change. In extending God’s love and mercy to others, our personal experience of God’s mercy deepens. We understand that no matter how misdirected or lost we may become, there is always a way back for us, a second chance, a new beginning. Thank you, Lord. Beyond working out reconciliation between two people, when we put Jesus’ ethics into action, we embody the promise of the Kingdom of God. The world begins to imagine God’s realm where we “wear out the hater, break down barriers, and redeem the enemy.” What a wonderful world it will be.

This June marked the tenth anniversary of Dylann Roof’s assault on Mother Emanuel Church. Rev. Pinckney’s widow Jennifer says this was a tough year. Her oldest daughter graduated from college and her 16-year-old went to her first prom without her dad to see her off. The church is in the process of building a memorial to her husband and the other eight victims. They have also purchased a nearby house to serve as a museum for the outpouring of love that Mother Emanuel received from people all around the world in the wake of the shooting: quilts, prayer shawls, artwork, a hand embroidered chair, crosses, banners, music, and more. Asked what the world should take away from this tenth anniversary of Dylann Roof’s hateful act, Jennifer Pinckney said, “The world needs to remember, to come together. We got to love one another. We got to move forward and work together.” She sounded a lot like Jesus.

“Love your enemies, do what is good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you. . . Be merciful, just as your Father also is merciful… Forgive, and you will be forgiven.”

Resources

US Justice Department. UNITED STATES OF AMERICA V. DYLANN STORM ROOF in the United States District Court for the District of South Carolina, Charleston Division. July 20, 2015

The Editors of Encyclopedia Britannica. “Denmark Vesey”. Encyclopedia Britannica, 28 Jun. 2025, https://www.britannica.com/biography/Denmark-Vesey. Accessed 4 October 2025

Cory Collins. “The Miseducation of Dylann Roof” in Learning for Justice, Issue 57, Fall 2017. Southern Poverty Law Center. Accessed online at The Miseducation of Dylann Roof | Learning for Justice

Rasha Ali. “Five years after Charleston church massacre: How ‘Emanuel’ reveals the power of forgiveness” in USA Today, June 17, 2019. Charleston church attack and the power of forgiveness in ‘Emanuel’

Claude Atcho. “Mother Emanuel and the Witness of Black Christian Faith” in Christianity Today, June 5, 2025. Accessed online at Mother Emanuel and the Witness of Black Christian Faith – Christianity Today

Billie Jean Shaw. “‘Stronger than hate’: How the son of a Mother Emanuel victim chose to embrace forgiveness” on WIS10 TV, June 16, 2025. Accessed online at ‘Stronger than hate’: How the son of a Mother Emanuel victim chose to embrace forgiveness

Ronald Allen. “Commentary on Luke 6:27-38” in Preaching This Week, Feb. 24, 2019.  Accessed online at workingpreacher.com.

Sarah Henrick. “Commentary on Luke 6:27-38” in Preaching This Week, Feb. 20, 2022.  Accessed online at workingpreacher.com.

Mary Hinkle Shore. “Commentary on Luke 6:27-38” in Preaching This Week, Feb. 23, 2025.  Accessed online at workingpreacher.com.

Luke 6:27-38

27 “But I say to you who are listening: Love your enemies; do good to those who hate you; 28 bless those who curse you; pray for those who mistreat you. 29 If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also, and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. 30 Give to everyone who asks of you, and if anyone takes away what is yours, do not ask for it back again. 31 Do to others as you would have them do to you. 32 “If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. 33 If you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. 34 If you lend to those from whom you expect to receive payment, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to receive as much again. 35 Instead, love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return. Your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High, for he himself is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. 36 Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful. 37 “Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven; 38 give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap, for the measure you give will be the measure you get back.”

Image source: https://religionnews.com/2019/06/06/mother-emanuels-forgiveness-narrative-is-complicated-says-reporter-turned-author/

Lazarus, Then and Now

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Lazareth, Then and Now” Luke 16:19-31

Imagine Saranac Lake on July 25, 1890 when an organizing service of worship took place right here, the sanctuary so new that it lacked windows and seats. Rough wooden benches held worshipers, and hymns were sung a cappella, the sounds of Presbyterian harmonies gently drifting across the village. Church Street was unpaved, the street alternately dusty or muddy, dotted with riders and horse-drawn wagons. The village’s ten-block commercial district was two years away from its first phase of construction. The surrounding hills of Pisgah, Dewey, and Baker were clear cut, the trees sent down the Hudson to build New York City. Helen Hill was a grassy knoll called the Sheep Meadow, but it would soon undergo a residential building boom. The local population had swelled to 1,582 permanent residents, tripling in size over the past few years. In the next decade, it would quadruple.

Everywhere, the sounds of construction rang out. That summer, the Adirondack Cottage Sanitarium built three cure cottages and a large open-air amusement pavilion. Local residents were adding additions to their homes, tacking on porches, and taking in borders. New homes were rented at a premium that enabled owners to pay off their building debt within two years. With our short Adirondack building season, even Sunday mornings would have been punctuated by the sounds of hammers and saws, workman’s shouts and teams of horses hauling wagons.

We were booming, thanks to the “White Plague” of tuberculosis.  The crowded living conditions, poor air quality, and squalid poverty of American cities were a breeding ground for the disease. In those days before antibiotics, a tuberculosis diagnosis felt like a death sentence. It started with coughing, night sweats, fever, weight loss, and bloody sputum.  It progressed to organ failure and death. By 1907, 400 Americans were dying of tuberculosis every day. Dr. E.L. Trudeau spurred the hopes of patients everywhere that a miracle cure had been found in Saranac Lake when he publicized that the cold air, rest, good food, and leisure of the Adirondacks had put his TB into remission. Hurting people from across the nation and around the world, desperate for healing, rode the new railroad to the village looking for renewed health. These TB patients, desperate, sick, and far from home, would have been among the most isolated and vulnerable people that we could possibly imagine.

In our reading from Luke’s gospel, Jesus told a story about a rich man and the desperately ill neighbor who languished at his gate. Jesus used the Greek word plousios to describe the rich man, meaning a wealthy landowner who did not labor for a living. He lived large, clotheded in royal purple and fine linen, feasting on sumptuous food, and hosting lavish parties. Jesus described the sick man, Lazarus, with the Greek word ptoxos, meaning the abject poor, a homeless beggar without the support of property, friends, or family. He was so weakened that he couldn’t even shoo away the dogs drawn to his festering wounds. Although they were neighbors, the rich man didn’t seem to see Lazarus, while the sick man dreamt of eating the crumbs that fell from his rich neighbor’s table. Jesus painted a stark and uncomfortable picture of the extremes of our human condition.

According to Jesus’ parable, death brought a great reversal. Lazarus, who suffered so in life, found a privileged position in death, seated by the Patriarch Abraham at the heavenly banquet. The rich man, on the other hand, was in Hades, tormented by flames and an unquenchable thirst. It comes as a surprise to hear that the rich man not only knew Lazarus, he also felt he could order him around: come and relieve my thirst with a glass of cold water; go and tell my brothers to change their ways. We can imagine the shock that the rich man felt when he learned that his indifference to the suffering of his neighbor, his flagrant disregard for the requirements of scripture, had built a great chasm, not only between himself and Lazarus, but also between himself and God.

When our seventeen original members signed their names to the church’s brand-new, leather-bound session ledger on July 25, 1890, they made a bold commitment to love and worship God right here. They also made a sincere commitment to their vulnerable neighbors whom they knew to be at their gate. Jane “Jennie” Conklin came to Saranac Lake from Rochester in the spring of 1890 with her husband John as he sought the cold air cure for tuberculosis. By year’s end, John was dead, leaving Jennie with three young children and a small sum that she used to build the Conklin Cottage at the corner of Main and Church Streets. There she tended patients in need of compassion and care, much as she had tended her husband. Likewise, the Podmore and Lattrell families, who were also among our founding members, were proprietors of cure cottages.

By 1893, the church had created what was known as the Fellowship Fund, which benefited neighbors in need through personal pledges. Poor boxes to receive donations for the relief of the “sick poor” were installed inside the church door. The church welcomed tubercular patients that never entered this sanctuary and certainly never made a pledge to the church, like Miss Fletcher, who was received into the membership of the church by two elders, dispatched to her bedside at the O’Malley Cottage. Our third pastor, the Rev. Armitage Beardsley, came to us in 1895 fresh from seminary. He saw the sanitoriums and cure cottages of the village as his mission field. He soon contracted TB, and by September 1897 was so ill that he was forced to resign. His touching letter of farewell is pasted into the session minutes of the time. News of his death followed within weeks.

Without question, our most dedicated advocate of the “sick poor” was Rev. Hiram Lyon, who served the church from 1927 to 1937. He came to Saranac Lake in 1925 in need of the cold air cure, following his graduation from Union Seminary in New York City. When our pastor Rev. George Kennedy Newell died of pneumonia shortly before Christmas in 1926, the church looked to young Hiram to fill the pulpit. Afraid that his newfound health wouldn’t last, he agreed to serve for a one-year trial period, and against all odds, he thrived. Hiram believed that God had placed this congregation in a unique position to care for vulnerable neighbors with tuberculosis. He cast the vision for the church to hire a Parish Visitor, who would travel to cure cottages, sanitoriums, and local hospitals to bring patients hope, cheer, and the love of Christ.  In October 1928, the job went to Miss Christine Burdick a recent graduate of the Boston University School of Religious Education and Social Service. Christine made as many as 2,000 visits in a year, offering compassionate listening, caring presence, and fervent prayers. Walls of loneliness, isolation, and fear came tumbling down as Christine shared the love of Christ with neighbors who must have felt every bit as vulnerable as Lazarus at the gate.

Jesus’ parable of the rich man and his desperate neighbor is a story about a failure to love. The rich man failed to love God with all his heart and mind and soul and strength. He also failed to love his neighbors as himself. The rich man saw Lazarus as a blight on his landscape, not as a brother, a fellow child of Abraham, deserving of love and compassion, mercy and care. It never occurred to the rich man that his abundance was a gift from God, meant to be shared for the common good and the particular care of his vulnerable neighbor. Today as we commemorate our anniversary, we celebrate our ancestors in the faith, those saints who gathered on Sunday mornings to express their heartfelt love for God and then went forth into the week to love their neighbors, especially the most vulnerable ones.

Today, we are called to claim that legacy for ourselves. We honor Jane Conklin and Armitage Beardsley, Hiram Lyon and Christine Burdick when we dare to go forth and do likewise, expressing our love for God with our worship and music, and opening our hearts and hands to care for those who need it most.

I want to wrap up my message by naming some of the ways that we bless neighbors in times of vulnerability. Now, if you have ever participated in any of these ministries or perhaps been blessed by these ministries, let me know with an “Uh-huh,” an “Amen,” or perhaps a clap offering. Ready?

We knit prayer shawls, lap robes, and baby blankets to bless those in need of blessing.

We give generously to our Deacons Fund, to help neighbors pay rent or make car repairs, cover medical bills or make essential purchases.

We visit folks who are hospitalized, homebound, or live at Will Rogers and Elderwood, sharing love and communion.

We cook delicious meals and deliver them to those who are bouncing back from surgery, illness, or grief.

We grow beautiful produce to feed our Food Pantry friends, and we bring in paper goods for neighbors at Grace Pantry.

We raise funds and awareness about hunger in the CROP Walk.

We partner with our ecumenical friends to house the homeless and help them transition to independent living.

We pray our hearts out on the prayer chain.

We love and welcome immigrants and refugees.

I could say more, but brunch is waiting. Thank you to those bold seventeen original members who launched this great endeavor to love. Thank you to all of you, who so boldly claim that legacy with care and compassion, near and far. Lazarus is at the gate, my friends. May we go forth to love.

Luke 16:19-31

19 “There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. 20 And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, 21 who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man’s table; even the dogs would come and lick his sores. 22 The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried. 23 In Hades, where he was being tormented, he lifted up his eyes and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side. 24 He called out, ‘Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am in agony in these flames.’ 25 But Abraham said, ‘Child, remember that during your lifetime you received your good things and Lazarus in like manner evil things, but now he is comforted here, and you are in agony. 26 Besides all this, between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.’ 27 He said, ‘Then I beg you, father, to send him to my father’s house— 28 for I have five brothers—that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment.’ 29 Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.’ 30 He said, ‘No, father Abraham, but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.’ 31 He said to him, ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.’ ”

First Presbyterian Church of Saranac Lake

Joseph’s Dream

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Joseph’s Dream” Genesis 41:14-36

This summer, the Seed Saver’s Exchange in Decorah, Iowa celebrated its 50th anniversary with a national seed swap day, lessons in grafting apple trees, an heirloom plant sale, tomato tasting, and orchard tours. It all got started in 1975 when Diane Wheatley was entrusted with two heirloom seed varieties, Grandpa Ott’s Blue Morning Glories and German Pink Tomatoes. Diane’s great-grandparents brought the seeds to the US when they immigrated from Bavaria in 1884.

Diane and her husband Kent knew other families who preserved family seeds and stories. They reached out to form a network of gardeners interested in preserving biodiversity by growing heirloom seeds in their gardens and farms. Today, on their 890-acre farm in Winneshiek County, the Wheatley’s have the nation’s largest nongovernmental seed bank with more than 20,000 varieties of seed that they store and grow.

It’s a good thing that people like the Wheatleys are so committed to saving seeds and their stories. In the last century, the world has lost 75% of its edible plant varieties. Nowadays, roughly half of America’s cropland—170 million acres—is planted with genetically engineered crops with seeds that can’t be saved and replanted. That lack of biodiversity makes for a fragile agricultural system. Genetically modified crops are more vulnerable to changing climate, as well as certain pests and diseases. Agricultural experts are sounding the alarm that we need the biodiversity of heirloom plants to safeguard our food supply.

In our reading from Genesis, Pharoah had two disturbing dreams that sprang from the world of ancient Egyptian agriculture. At the center of Pharoah’s dream was the Nile. Ancient Egyptians called the Nile “Ar,” meaning “black,” a reference to the rich, dark sediment that the Nile’s waters carried from the Horn of Africa northward and deposited in Egypt when the river flooded its banks each year in late summer. That surge of water and nutrients turned the Nile Valley into productive farmland, and made it possible for Egyptian civilization to develop in the midst of a desert. In fact, the Egyptians were the first to practice agriculture on a large scale, growing wheat, barley, and flax. Ancient Egyptian farmers developed a system called basin irrigation, digging channels and filling fields with flood water. There it would sit for a month until the soil was saturated and ready for planting to grow the abundance that would sustain people and livestock.

But in Pharoah’s dream, trouble was brewing along the Nile. The king’s late-night vision of ugly, skinny cows devouring fat, sleek cows and withered, blighted grain consuming plump, good grain so troubled Pharoah that he summoned all the Magi of Egypt to interpret his dream. When they failed to discern the meaning, the king sent for a Hebrew prisoner, Joseph, who had a reputation for wise interpretation. With God’s help, Joseph listened to Pharaoh’s dream and anticipated catastrophe for Egypt’s economy and people: seven years of plenty would be followed by seven years of drought and starvation. There was no escaping it. The nation and the people would suffer.

Around the world this morning, millions of people face the sort of agricultural crisis and food scarcity anticipated by Pharaoh’s dream. The World Food Programme reports that we are in a world food crisis. 319 million people in 67 countries face acute hunger. The world’s largest hunger crisis is in the Democratic Republic of Congo, where 23.4 million people are severely hungry and over 6 million people have been displaced by civil war. Somalia is on the brink of famine with 10 million people in crisis. In Gaza, over half a million people are facing catastrophic famine. With acute malnutrition worsening rapidly, an estimated 132,000 of Gaza’s children under 5 are at risk of death. Pharaoh’s dream is our world’s nightmare in which war, climate change, a sluggish global economy, and a worldwide surge in refugees are fueling the global food crisis.

In response to Pharoah’s nightmares, Joseph began to do his own dreaming. He cast the vision of a future for Egypt in which the catastrophe of drought and starvation could be alleviated by careful planning. For Joseph’s plan to work, Pharaoh would need to take immediate action. One fifth of all grain harvested for the next seven years must be saved and safeguarded, creating an abundance that could feed the people and their livestock through the climate crisis to come. Most leaders would reject a seven-year 20% cut to their nation’s bottom line, but the frightening portent of Pharoah’s dream opened his ears. The king saw that careful planning for the future was needed, and Joseph was the man to do it. The king freed him from prison and appointed him chief overseer of the nation with authority to put his grain saving plan into action. If we were to continue to read in Genesis, we would learn that Joesph’s dream saved not only Egypt but also Israel as Joseph’s Hebrew brothers came to Egypt in search of grain.

The world needs people like Joseph. They look at the global reality of hunger, and they act wisely to avert catastrophe. For more than forty years, this church has partnered with Church World Service to help hungry neighbors here in the US and all around the world. Like Joseph, Church World Service has a goal of building a world where there is enough for all. One of the ways Church World Service does this is through the Seeds of Hope program. In Guatemala they are helping families in Quiché and Quetzaltenango grow and care for their own gardens. They have provided a variety of vegetable seeds, like coriander, radish, beets, chard, and spinach. They have also helped 590 families build gardens and 30 to build greenhouses. The garden program has been so successful, that Church World Service has worked with villages to develop community markets, where neighbors buy and sell their products to one other. Seeds of hope has allowed communities to grow and flourish together.

Church World Service is also working with global neighbors to adapt to a warming climate, which has led to droughts, floods, and unpredictable weather patterns. Farming practices that were once stable are no longer effective and smaller harvests have left families with less to eat and sell. In Tanzania, CWS is working with farmers to boost productivity and profits. Charles Dzombo participated in a program that taught him to grow sweet potatoes to supplement the grain, mangos, and maize that he already grew. The sweet potato vines thrived. In fact, Charles made a profit of three times his investment and did so in half the time of other crops. The extra money has allowed him to meet his household needs, maintain a stable food supply, and even purchase a goat. Charles now trains 25 other local farmers. He says, “Now that I have tasted the goodness of planting sweet potatoes, I am going to make it a priority.”

The world needs people like Joseph, who look at the global reality of hunger and act wisely to avert catastrophe. Half a world away from the 319 million people who experience acute hunger, we may feel powerless to make a helping, healing difference. But we can. Just think of Diane Wheatley who held in her hand two heirloom seeds from her Grandpa Ott and dreamed of the Seed Savers Exchange which, fifty years later, preserves the biodiversity of our farms for the generations to come.

What would it look like for us to be a Joseph? We begin local, right here in our basement. We can volunteer to help neighbors with more month than money through the Food Pantry. If we like to get our hands dirty, and maybe try growing some heirloom seeds, we can help in the Church’s Jubilee Garden. Last weekend, Ann and John harvested a bumper crop of potatoes, squash, Swiss chard, tomatoes, hot peppers, and more to the delight of our food pantry neighbors. There was even a little left over for us. If we aren’t into gardening, there is always the opportunity to make monthly food offerings, like soup and crackers or peanut butter and jelly, to stock the Pantry’s shelves. And don’t forget two-cents-a-meal on communion Sundays. That spare change adds up with half staying local with the food pantry and half going to the Presbyterian Hunger Program for hungry people across the nation.

If we want to be Joseph for the world, we have the perfect opportunity on October 19 when our church will host the Saranac Lake CROP Walk. We pledge our support, lace up our sneakers, and hit the streets to raise funds and awareness about hunger. Last year, CROP Walk raised more than $6,000 for the work of Church World Service, supporting their innovative agriculture programs around the world. Who plans to walk this year? Who plans to pledge?

The world needs more Joseph’s this morning, my friends. The world needs more Josephs who will save seeds to preserve biodiversity and roll up their sleeves to feed hungry neighbors. The world needs more Josephs who will mentor Guatemalan gardeners and teach Tanzanians the profitable art of planting sweet potatoes. The world needs more Josephs who care about the 319 million acutely hungry people in this world and are willing to make a difference. How about it?

Resources

Patrick J. Kiger. “Why the Nile River Was So Important to Ancient Egypt” in History, July 12, 2021. Accessed online at https://www.history.com/articles/ancient-egypt-nile-river

Church World Service. “A Sweet Investment Brings Success” and “Seeds of Hope for Nutritional Food Security Program in Guatemala” in Stories of Change. Accessed online at https://cwsglobal.org/our-work

World Food Programme. A global food crisis. Accessed online at https://www.wfp.org/global-hunger-crisis

–. “Seed Savers Exchange Celebrates 50 Years.” Accessed online at https://seedsavers.org/sse-50th-anniversary/

Von Rad, Gerhard. Genesis. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1972.

Brueggemann, Walter. Genesis. Interpreter Commentary Series. Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1982.

Creation Justice Ministries. “Sowing Seeds: Prophetic Action to Climate-Changed Lands,” 2023.

Genesis 41:14-36

14 Then Pharaoh sent for Joseph, and he was hurriedly brought out of the dungeon. When he had shaved himself and changed his clothes, he came in before Pharaoh. 15 And Pharaoh said to Joseph, “I had a dream, and there is no one who can interpret it. I have heard it said of you that when you hear a dream you can interpret it.” 16 Joseph answered Pharaoh, “It is not I; God will give Pharaoh a favorable answer.” 17 Then Pharaoh said to Joseph, “In my dream I was standing on the banks of the Nile, 18 and seven cows, fat and sleek, came up out of the Nile and fed in the reed grass. 19 Then seven other cows came up after them, poor, very ugly, and thin. Never had I seen such ugly ones in all the land of Egypt. 20 The thin and ugly cows ate up the first seven fat cows, 21 but when they had eaten them no one would have known that they had done so, for they were still as ugly as before. Then I awoke. 22 I fell asleep a second time,[a] and I saw in my dream seven ears of grain, full and good, growing on one stalk, 23 and seven ears, withered, thin, and blighted by the east wind, sprouting after them, 24 and the thin ears swallowed up the seven good ears. But when I told it to the magicians, there was no one who could explain it to me.”

25 Then Joseph said to Pharaoh, “Pharaoh’s dreams are one and the same; God has revealed to Pharaoh what he is about to do. 26 The seven good cows are seven years, and the seven good ears are seven years; the dreams are one. 27 The seven lean and ugly cows that came up after them are seven years, as are the seven empty ears blighted by the east wind. They are seven years of famine. 28 It is as I told Pharaoh; God has shown to Pharaoh what he is about to do. 29 There will come seven years of great plenty throughout all the land of Egypt. 30 After them there will arise seven years of famine, and all the plenty will be forgotten in the land of Egypt; the famine will consume the land. 31 The plenty will no longer be known in the land because of the famine that will follow, for it will be very grievous. 32 And the doubling of Pharaoh’s dream means that the thing is fixed by God, and God will shortly bring it about. 33 Now therefore let Pharaoh select a man who is discerning and wise and set him over the land of Egypt. 34 Let Pharaoh proceed to appoint overseers over the land and take one-fifth of the produce of the land of Egypt during the seven plenteous years. 35 Let them gather all the food of these good years that are coming and lay up grain under the authority of Pharaoh for food in the cities, and let them keep it. 36 That food shall be a reserve for the land against the seven years of famine that are to befall the land of Egypt, so that the land may not perish through the famine.”

Photo by RDNE Stock project on Pexels.com

Lucky Pennies

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Lucky Pennies” Luke 15:1-10

The U.S. Mint is winding down production of pennies and will stop minting them entirely in early 2026. The penny has been under attack for decades, ever since lawmakers realized that the 3.69 cents that it costs to make a penny is much more than the coin is worth. A lucky penny on a sidewalk once made our eyes light up and our hands reach down to pick it up. Nowadays, most folks feel it isn’t worth their time. Former US Mint Director Philip Diehl says that the value of the penny on the sidewalk “has shrunk to the point that, if you earn more than minimum wage, you’re losing money [by] stopping and picking [it] up.”

It wasn’t always that way. If you have lived long enough, you may remember the days when a penny inserted into the gumball machine outside the grocery store got you a beautiful, round, candy-coated ball of chewing gum goodness. Or, a bright, shiny, new copper penny was the perfect accessory for your penny loafers. Or, the penny clutched in your small, sweaty hand got you the penny candy of your choice. Or, you delighted in the sound of a penny falling into your piggy bank or dropping into a fountain as you made a wish. David Hartgrove, who grew up in Miami in the 1950s, remembers collecting glass bottles on his walk to school. One bottle got him three cents, which he spent on candy, feeling “like a king” for about a half hour.

It isn’t only pennies that we deem of little value these days. In 2023, the Transportation Security Administration (TSA) reported collecting approximately $956,253.38 in small change left behind at airport security checkpoints. The Covanta Holding Company, which gleans discarded coins from the 250 million tons of garbage that we send to landfills each year, reports that Americans throw away an estimated $62 million in coins each year. That’s not chump change.

In our reading from the fifteenth chapter of Luke, Jesus describes a persistent woman who searches diligently for a lost coin. It’s the second of three parables that Jesus told when the scribes and Pharisees grumbled about his outrageous hospitality, saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.”

According to tradition, the immorality of Jesus’ dinner companions was a problem for everyone because it separated them from God and neighbor. Sin rendered the sinner unclean and unholy. Anyone with good sense avoided sinners until they turned their lives around and practiced the proper rituals and sacrifices to restore God’s favor and return them to their place in the community of the righteous. Now, an observant rabbi might exhort a sinner to repentance, but he would fear doing what Jesus did, sitting down at the table with them. That kind of careless behavior might render the rabbi unclean. In fact, it might contaminate the whole community. What rabbi in their right mind would jeopardize his community’s relationship with God? It’s no wonder that the scribes and Pharisees were scandalized and worried. They saw Jesus’ table fellowship as a risk to everyone’s salvation. Jesus’ parables call into question those pious assumptions of his critics.

So, how about that poor, persistent woman that Jesus described? Losing one of ten coins, she goes to extraordinary lengths to find it. She lights a lamp and burns precious oil, searching and sweeping the house. She moves all the furniture, makes her kids crawl around on their hands and knees. She pokes her broom into every crevice and cranny. When she finds the errant coin, she lets out a whoop of rejoicing.

What happens next is really outrageous. The woman hosts a party in celebration of the lost coin. She invites all her friends and neighbors, cooks up a storm, and insists that everyone celebrate with her. Her impromptu party costs more than the no-longer-lost coin is worth, and that leaves her guests wondering if the coin wasn’t the only thing that got lost. Maybe she lost her marbles.

Jesus says that this persistent woman is what God is like. One of God’s highest priorities and greatest joys is the recovery of what has been lost. God is always reaching out to sinful and fallen people with amazing grace and unmerited love. Jesus may have told three parables in the fifteenth chapter of Luke to make this point, but truly his whole life was a parable of God’s unstoppable love that will not let us go. No matter how lost we may be, God so longs to be reconciled with us that God is willing to become flesh and die for us. God is willing to get down and dirty, to pick us up and dust us off, to say, “Let me tell you just how much I love you, my lost friend.”

That’s the best news ever because, if we are deeply honest, we’ll admit that we can all be lost. We have all had times when we have languished in the dark, short on the hope that anyone will value us enough to seeks us and save us. Perhaps even now we are thinking of our lost places. We’ve been hooked on alcohol or prescription meds, food or lust. We’ve made idols of work or nation, money or guns. We’ve behaved badly in broken and destructive relationships. We’ve gotten sucked into the dysfunction of our extended families—and we may even pass it on to the next generation. We’ve been mired in debt and caught up in consuming. We’ve been lost in grief or depression, rebelliousness or anxiety. At times, we’ve even gotten lost like the scribes and Pharisees. We judge and draw lines. We may even exclude or oppress others because we think we’ve got a lock on righteousness.

We all know just how bad it feels to be lost, and how desperately we long to be found. We need Jesus to see us for who we are in all our sinful frailty. We need Jesus to remind us that God believes we are worthy of the costly search, the saving grace, and the outrageous celebration. We need Jesus to seek us like a good shepherd, a persistent woman, the best father. We need Jesus to find us with rejoicing.

If we listen with the ear of our heart this morning, we may hear the sounds of a party. The lamp is lit. The table is spread with a bountiful feast—freshly baked bread and roasted meats, salads and side dishes, a cake with candles blazing. The music is playing and the kids are doing the electric slide on the newly swept floor. Jesus is the host and we, my friends, are the guests, no longer lost but loved, cherished, and welcomed with a shout of rejoicing. The lost coin is once again a lucky penny. Can we imagine it?

82-year-old Otha Anders began collecting lost coins and spare change around his Ruston, Louisiana home in the 1970s. Eventually, his coin collection filled an impressive fifteen five-gallon plastic water jugs. When Otha was forced to cash in his change to pay for some expensive dental work about ten years ago, he discovered that those lost and little regarded coins added up to $5,130. Now, that’s not chump change.

Otha isn’t happy about the demise of the little-loved penny because pennies mean a lot to him. Their value far exceeds the face value—or even the 3.69 cents that it costs to mint one. Otha says that whenever he spots a penny on the street or gets one back in change, he sees it as a reminder to thank God. $5,130—that’s a lot of thanks giving. Otha says, “I’d give you a dollar before I would give you a penny.”

I think Otha has a point, even if it doesn’t make good financial sense. Perhaps the next time we’re about to step over that penny on the sidewalk, we’ll stop. We’ll bend down. We’ll pick it up. Perhaps the next time we see a lost coin, we’ll remember Otha Anders. We’ll remember that persistent woman. We’ll remember Jesus, who told us all about God’s unstoppable love that will not let us go, no matter how lost we may be. Thank you, Lord.

Resources:

E. Trey Clark. “Commentary on Luke 15:1-10” in Preaching This Week, Sept. 14, 2025. Accessed online at Commentary on Luke 15:1-10 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Rachel Treisman. “Are Pennies Worth It?” NPR News, Feb. 10, 2025. Accessed online at www.ypradio.org/npr-news/2025-02-10

Aimee Picchi. “Americans Throw Away $62 Million in Coins Each Year” in CBS News Money Watch, Oct. 18, 2016. Accessed online at www.cbsnews.com

Karissa Waddick. “Penny for Their Thoughts” in USA Today, Feb. 10, 2025. Accessed online at www.usatoday.com

Jenna Busch. Passengers Leave a Staggering Amount of Cash Behind at TSA Screening Checkpoints in Islands, May 31, 2025. Accessed online at Passengers Leave A Staggering Amount Of Cash Behind At TSA Screening Checkpoints, Here’s Where It Goes

Luke 15:1-10

15 Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. 2 And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.” 3 So he told them this parable: 4 “Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it? 5 And when he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders and rejoices. 6 And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my lost sheep.’ 7 Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance. 8 “Or what woman having ten silver coins, if she loses one of them, does not light a lamp, sweep the house, and search carefully until she finds it? 9 And when she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.’ 10 Just so, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.”

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Building Projects

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Building Projects” Luke 14:25-32

The National Monument of Scotland was never completed. Plans for the memorial atop Carleton Hill in Edinburgh were drawn up more than 200 years ago with the intention of honoring Scotland’s fallen heroes of the Napoleonic War. A massive pillared court, like the Parthenon in Athens, would contain a church, as well as catacombs for the burial of the country’s most significant leaders. By 1822 a foundation was laid, but by 1829, construction ground to a halt, due to insufficient funds. An effort to revive the project in the 1850s likewise failed. The city council eventually became the owners of the partially-finished monument, known as “Edinburgh’s Disgrace.” All that survives of the original grand plans are an immense foundation and twelve colossal Doric columns.

The Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York City was never completed. One of the largest churches in the world, St. John’s is perched at the top of a flight of wide steps atop one of the highest hills in Manhattan. Standing in front of the massive building, you’ll notice a squat, square, unfinished tower on the south side, but no matching tower on the north. Initial work on the cathedral proceeded from 1892 but competing architectural visions slowed construction. Building efforts stalled entirely at the beginning of World War II and the congregation’s priorities shifted. They saw growing social needs in their community, like poverty, homelessness, and hunger, and they questioned whether they should continue to pour funds into construction. Work resumed in 1979 but stalled in 1997. Today, building efforts focus on preservation and basic improvements at a cost of about $11 million dollars a year. The cathedral is known by the nickname “St. John the Unfinished.”

Closer to home, Boldt Castle, located on Heart Island in the St. Lawrence, was never completed. In 1900, George Boldt, the proprietor of the Waldorf Astoria Hotel, hired 300 laborers to construct a 120-room Rhineland-style castle for his beloved wife Louise. Four years after construction began, Louise suddenly died. The heartbroken husband abandoned the project and never set foot on the island again. For seventy-five years, the site sat abandoned and unfinished until in 1977 the Thousand Islands Bridge Authority acquired the property and opened it for visitors.

In our reading from Luke’s gospel, Jesus used hyperbole— a form of argument that embraces exaggeration—to make a point. Jesus cautioned his disciples about the cost of discipleship with dire-sounding words about family alienation, incomplete building projects, and unwinnable wars. The Lord was on his way to Jerusalem for that fateful final Passover. He was accompanied by large crowds of would-be disciples. The expectations of the crowd about what would go down in Jerusalem were radically different from what Jesus knew would unfold. The crowds thought they would have a ringside seat for healing miracles and earthshaking preaching. Many must have hoped that Jesus would bring change to the religious establishment ensconced in the Temple. Some were hoping for regime change, thinking that Jesus would be a militaristic Messiah, like the Maccabees, who could cast out their Roman overlords. No one wanted to hear that a cross awaited Jesus in Jerusalem. No one wanted to hear that crosses could await many who dared to follow the Lord.

All of Jesus’ apostles would know persecution and eleven of the twelve would face execution. James the Son of Zebedee would be the first, beheaded by the Romans in the year 44. Andrew was crucified on an x-shaped cross in the Greek city of Patras in the year 60. Peter was crucified upside down four years later during the persecution of Christians by the Emperor Nero. Jude was crucified in Persia. Thomas was run through with spears in India. Matthew was impaled and beheaded in Ethiopia. You see my point. The only apostle to die a natural death was John the Beloved, but he and his church were persecuted so harshly that they were forced to flee Israel for the far side of the Mediterranean in what is now western Turkey. Discipleship was costly, indeed, for Jesus’ followers.

It’s hard to know what to do with scripture readings like the one we have today. As first world Christians, not one of us is likely to be executed for our beliefs. Not one of us will be so persecuted for our love of Jesus that we will be forced to flee our homeland. Trey Clark, who teaches preaching at Fuller Seminary says that when we hear Jesus’ words about family alienation and impending oppression or victimization, we are more likely to say “Ouch” than “Amen.” So how do we make sense of it for people here and now?

The circumstances of our lives are very different from Jesus’ first century followers. Taking up our cross and losing our life for the sake of Jesus Christ may look more like death by a thousand paper cuts than a state sponsored execution. Losing our life for Christ involves recognizing that our true purpose and fulfillment are not found in worldly desires but in serving God and others. Authentic discipleship requires a willingness to deny ourselves and take up our cross daily. By embracing the Way of Jesus, we die to self, but we find true life and purpose. The Apostle Paul, who would lose his head for the sake of the gospel, put it this way, “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I now live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” There are millions of everyday folks out there, like you and me, who may not have literally died for Jesus’s sake, but they show singular commitment and deep allegiance by following the Lord in costly ways. Jesus lives in them.  

I would like to celebrate those thousand paper cuts, the everyday ways that I see people denying themselves and taking up their cross for the sake of the gospel. I’ll name just a few and you can respond with an “Amen!” or an “Ouch!”

We could spend our Sunday mornings paddling our canoe or hitting the trail, doing a home improvement project or having a second cup of coffee, but we choose to come to church and worship our awesome God, and we carry the cross.

We could spend our Wednesday evenings watching Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune, but we make a joyful noise to the Lord with choir or meet with the deacons or come out for Committee Night, and we carry the cross.

In a world where income inequality is accepted, even as it grows and grows, we could ignore the need of our neighbors, but we share our food offerings and donate two cents a meal for hunger programs, we grow veggies in our Jubilee Garden to share at the Food Pantry and cook lunch for the Community Lunch Box, and we carry the cross.

Living in the remote beauty of the Adirondacks, we could close our eyes to the suffering and injustice of our world, but we advocate for the war weary people of Ukraine, and write letters for the starving children of Gaza, we accompany vulnerable refugees and support the widows and children of Mzuzu Malawi, and we carry the cross.

I could say more, but you see my point. We carry the cross. We die to self and live for Jesus, and when we follow the Lord, yielding our will to God’s will, Jesus lives in us.

Our deaths by a thousand paper cuts begin to build something. It isn’t the National Monument of Scotland, better known as Edinburgh’s disgrace. It isn’t the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, aka St. John the Unfinished. It isn’t even Boldt Castle, although New York State has poured millions of our tax dollars into making the castle an accessible tourist destination. Our deaths by a thousand papercuts build a world that looks like Christ’s Kingdom, where the stranger is welcomed, the hungry are fed, the sick and lonely are visited, and God is glorified. That’s a building project that I want to see through to completion. How about you?

Let’s pick up our crosses, my friends. There is building work to be done.

Resources

E. Trey Clark. “Commentary on Luke 14:25-33” in Preaching This Week, Sept. 7, 2025. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-23-3/commentary-on-luke-1425-33-6

Radhika Jhamaria. “15 Famous Unfinished Projects in Architectural History” in Rethinking the Future. Accessed online at https://www.re-thinkingthefuture.com/architects-lounge/a1289-15-famous-unfinished-projects-in-architectural-history-2/

Ellen Newman. “New York City’s St. John the Unfinished” in Hidden in Plain Sight, July 11, 2019. Accessed online at https://hidden-insite.com/2019/07/08/new-york-citys-st-john-the-unfinished/

Jenna Intersemone. “Massive Building Projects That Were Never Finished” in House Digest, Dec. 7, 2021. Accessed online at https://www.housedigest.com/663379/massive-building-projects-that-were-never-finished/ Edinburgh

Jack Wellman. “How Did the 12 Apostles Die?” in What Christians Want to Know. https://www.whatchristianswanttoknow.com/how-did-the-12-apostles-die-a-bible-study/

Luke 14:25-32

25 Now large crowds were traveling with him, and he turned and said to them, 26 “Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple. 27 Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple. 28 For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not first sit down and estimate the cost, to see whether he has enough to complete it? 29 Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it will begin to ridicule him, 30 saying, ‘This fellow began to build and was not able to finish.’ 31 Or what king, going out to wage war against another king, will not sit down first and consider whether he is able with ten thousand to oppose the one who comes against him with twenty thousand? 32 If he cannot, then while the other is still far away, he sends a delegation and asks for the terms of peace. 

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Limitless Compassion

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Limitless Compassion” Luke 13:10-17

Jimmy has spent most of his life feeling invisible. Born with developmental disability and a host of physical issues, he spent most of his childhood in foster care. He attended school, riding in a special bus and learning in special classrooms. Other kids called him names: retard, freak, spazz, dumbo. Nowadays, Jimmy is largely ignored as he stands outside his group home to watch the cars drive past. Eyes look past him as if he isn’t even there.

Heather feels invisible. Every day at lunch she sits in the corner of the cafeteria by herself. She wears outdated hand-me-downs and packs her lunch in a re-used brown paper bag. In gym class, no one picks her for their team. When it’s time for group projects, no one wants to work with her. She sees cliques of friends laughing in the hallways and wishes she were part of that. Eyes look past or around her as if she isn’t even there.

Bert and Jean feel invisible. They had been retired for a number of years when the pandemic forced them to also step back from their civic commitments. Their phone used to ring off the hook. But now, not so much. Many of their friends have passed on. Their kids and grandkids are just so busy. Some weeks, the Meals on Wheels driver is their only conversation partner. They don’t get out much, but when they do, eyes look past or around them as if they aren’t even there.

The world is filled with neighbors who feel alienated, invisible, and alone. You might think that would awaken a mass wave of empathetic outreach, but it doesn’t. Social scientists say our disregard for vulnerable others is a psychological phenomenon known as “compassion collapse.” Dr. Caryl Cameron, director of the Empathy and Moral Psychology Lab at Penn State University, writes that “People tend to feel and act less compassionately for multiple suffering victims than for a single suffering victim…. Precisely when it seems to be needed the most, compassion is felt the least.”

There are reasons for that. We are finite beings with limited resources. We may feel that our action (or inaction) doesn’t make a difference, so we withdraw. Or, we sometimes don’t get involved to protect ourselves. In the face of widespread tragedy and need, it becomes crushing to take on the pain of others. We grow numb and feel powerless.

The bent over woman was invisible to her neighbors. She had felt alone and unseen for eighteen years. In the world of the first century, she was a marginalized person—someone who lived outside the community of the righteous because she was physically deformed, spirit-possessed, and a woman. Anyone who has ever had a bad back can imagine the terrible discomfort that she must have felt: muscle spasms; neck pain; difficulty in rising, standing, or walking; the inability to look up and out at the world around her. At some point in her long years of suffering, compassion collapse kicked in for her community. She stopped being a neighbor and simply become the “bent over woman.” She would not have been seated in church on the day that Jesus preached. Instead, she would have been excluded, waiting at the entrance, hoping that someone would see her and speak a kind word into her life of suffering.

Only one person in the synagogue saw the bent over woman. It was Jesus. As only Jesus could, he instantly knew her suffering and need, and his heart went out to her with a limitless compassion that stretched the bounds of what was socially and religiously acceptable in his day. Carolyn Sharp, who teaches Hebrew Bible at Yale, notes that what one could or couldn’t do on the sabbath day was hotly contested in the first century. In fact, the Mishnah Shabbat, a collection of rabbinic teachings, forbade 39 different kinds of labor on the sabbath: sowing fields, baking, building, traveling, and more. It did not forbid healing. In fact, rabbis generally agreed that in life threatening situations, it was acceptable to heal. The rabbis divided, though, over whether healing for non-critical conditions, like being bent over, was permitted.

That’s a long walk to say that Jesus saw the woman and chose to act in controversial, even scandalous, ways. First, he invited her into the sanctuary, into the community of the righteous—to the Moses Seat—where he had been teaching. Then, Jesus did something even more provocative. He laid his hands on her bent over back and raised her up straight, freeing her from the disability that had long held her in bondage. Jesus next concluded his sermon for the day with an interpretation of scripture that silenced the critics. If God would permit a farmer to unbind, water, and feed livestock on the sabbath day, then surely it was permitted to free a woman from the spirit that had long bound her. Jesus gave the bent over woman a proper name, “Daughter of Abraham,” a sister to all the worshipers that day.

The world is filled with invisible people. Like Jimmy, they live with disability. Like Heather, they are friendless school-aged kids. Like Bert and Jean, they are elderly and alone. They are the non-English speaking workers who clean our hotel rooms or pick our crops. They are the economically challenged neighbors who frequent the Food Pantry or collect the empty cans and bottles after rugby weekend. They’d like to be seen, but eyes look past or around them as if they aren’t even there.

Jesus’ scandalous actions in a crowded synagogue one sabbath morning call us to see our invisible neighbors, to welcome them into the heart of the community, to make a caring and healing difference in their lives. Thomas Merton wrote that compassion is the keen awareness of the interdependence of all things. We cannot find wholeness—shalom—apart from community, and communities cannot be whole until the outsider, the excluded, and the marginalized are welcomed, accepted, valued, and included. In a world where some characterize compassion and empathy as weakness, today’s teaching from Jesus is a bold contradiction and a call to action.

Of course, there’s only one problem: compassion collapse. In a world where need can be ubiquitous, our compassion can be overwhelmed. We say, what can one person do in the face of such large-scale pain? We grow numb. We close our eyes. People become invisible. What are we to do?

Peter W. Marty, editor of the Christian Century, says that he builds compassion for those who live in difficult circumstances through the simple practice of imagining what it’s like to walk in their shoes. He does this when he encounters people in daily life who perform jobs that he’s not sure he could manage or tolerate for even a day. Whether it’s an individual enduring dangerous work conditions, tedious assignments, a hostile environment, or depressingly low wages, Marty tries to picture trading his life for theirs. It quickly his alters perspective and shifts his assumptions about how easy or hard life can be for those who undertake hazardous or dispiriting work that often goes unnoticed, work for which we typically feel indifference.

Researchers David DeSteno and Daniel Lim have conducted research to learn how we can have more resilient compassion. Through a series of studies, Lim and DeSteno identified a few factors that enliven our compassion and enhance our capacity to act. It begins with the belief that small steps can make a difference. We can’t solve all the problems of the world, but we can make a simple difference in the life of someone who needs our encouragement and support. It also helps to remember our own experiences of adversity. Remembering our past challenges, suffering, or need motivates us to accompany others. Finally, our personal practice of prayer and meditation can help us to be present to those invisible neighbors. Taking the time to pray and reflect allows us to trust that our actions serve a holy purpose and God is with us. When we are clean out of compassion, we can borrow some of the limitless compassion of Jesus. The world may be filled with invisible people, but it doesn’t have to be. Jesus believes we can make a difference in the lives of those who feel that they are on the outside looking in, longing for care, connection, and community.  

This week, we’ll encounter them, those invisible neighbors. They’ll be sitting alone in Stewarts. They’ll be smoking outside their group home. They’ll be struggling to carry groceries to the car. They’ll fear they will miss that important doctor’s appointment because they don’t have a ride.

Let’s open our eyes and hearts. Take the time to see your invisible neighbor. Imagine what it’s like to walk in their shoes. Let’s remember our own experiences of adversity and isolation: that bitter break-up, the boss who bullied us, the health crisis we endured, the time we went broke. Let’s allow those suffering times to awaken our empathy for others and build our resolve to act. Undertake small compassionate acts and trust that they make a difference. Smile. Listen. Share a meal. Offer a ride. Bring someone to church. Finally, let’s ground our action in reflection and prayer. Remember Jesus, who healed a bent-over woman on the sabbath day and continues to long for the wholeness and redemption of our world.

Resources

Jared E. Alcantara. “Commentary on Luke 13:10-17” in Preaching This Week, August 24, 2025. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-21-3/commentary-on-luke-1310-17-6

Jeannine K. Brown. “Commentary on Luke 13:10-17” in Preaching This Week, August 22, 2010. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-21-3/commentary-on-luke-1310-17

Ira Brent Driggers. “Commentary on Luke 13:10-17” in Preaching This Week, August 25, 2019. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-21-3/commentary-on-luke-1310-17-4

Annelise Jolley. “The Paradox of Our Collapsing Compassion” in John Templeton Foundation News, Nov. 20,2024. Accessed online at https://www.templeton.org/news/the-paradox-of-our-collapsing-compassion

Peter W. Marty. “A Failure of Compassion” in The Christian Century, June 2024. Accessed online at https://www.christiancentury.org/first-words/failure-compassion

Carolyn J. Sharp. “Commentary on Luke 13:10-17” in Preaching This Week, August 21, 2022. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-21-3/commentary-on-luke-1310-17-5

Luke 13:10-17

10 Now he was teaching in one of the synagogues on the Sabbath. 11 And just then there appeared a woman with a spirit that had crippled her for eighteen years. She was bent over and was quite unable to stand up straight. 12 When Jesus saw her, he called her over and said, “Woman, you are set free from your ailment.” 13 When he laid his hands on her, immediately she stood up straight and began praising God. 14 But the leader of the synagogue, indignant because Jesus had cured on the Sabbath, kept saying to the crowd, “There are six days on which work ought to be done; come on those days and be cured and not on the Sabbath day.” 15 But the Lord answered him and said, “You hypocrites! Does not each of you on the Sabbath untie his ox or his donkey from the manger and lead it to water? 16 And ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen long years, be set free from this bondage on the Sabbath day?” 17 When he said this, all his opponents were put to shame, and the entire crowd was rejoicing at all the wonderful things being done by him.

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The Great Cloud of Witnesses

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Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The Great Cloud of Witnesses” Hebrews 11:29-12:2

In June, Duane and I traveled to Portugal and Spain to walk the Camino de Santiago. It’s an extended network of medieval pilgrim paths that crisscross the European countryside, all leading to the burial site of the Apostle James, the son of Zebedee. Our Camino journey would take us over 230 miles of trail from Porto, Portugal’s second largest city, to Santiago, and then on to the coast to Finisterre.

There were companions on our journey. About 75,000 people from all around the world will walk the coastal Camino from Portugal this year. They walk for many reasons. Some are expressing religious devotion. Others are in search of spiritual insight or self-knowledge. Some just want a good workout. One of the first pilgrims I met while walking was Karen, a Lutheran from Sweden. Karen narrowly escaped an aortic dissection when an x-ray for a persistent cough revealed a big bubble on the major artery near her heart. Her emergency surgery and journey to healing made her realize she wanted to walk the Camino. Less than two years out from my own experience of breast cancer, we connected with a shared sense of gratitude for restored health. The tough miles flew by as we talked, shared, and laughed together.

The Letter to the Hebrews was written for early Christians who were struggling in their journey of faith. They had made a good start on their pilgrim path. Enlightened by the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Hebrews had been filled with the Holy Spirit. They forged a caring community, loving and serving one another. But weariness, suspicion, and persecution, had challenged their faith. Neighbors who had once been friends now shunned them. Local authorities threatened them with prison. Even the emperor had begun to target them as enemies of Rome. Beset by adversity, the faith of the Hebrews was beginning to flag and fail. They questioned if the suffering was worth it, or if they could persevere through adversity. Some were neglecting to meet together.

We, too, can grow weary on the journey. Our chronic health issues wear us down and dim our hopes. Family troubles ramp up our worries and anxiety. Grief at the loss of loved ones feels like we are sojourning in the dark. Vitriol and chaos in American politics has us fearing for the future of our nation. As bombs fall in Ukraine and food aid is dangerously slow to relieve Gaza, man’s inhumanity to man tears our heartstrings and troubles our spirits. We know how it feels to be weary and overwhelmed. We know how it feels to struggle to find hope. We know how easy it is to become paralyzed, held fast by concerns that overwhelm us and in a quandary about what to do in response to circumstances that feel beyond our control.

The author of the Letter to the Hebrews reminded his friends that others had trod the pilgrim path before them. In seeking a good life with God, their ancestors had experienced trouble and hardship along the way. The Israelites had been only one step ahead of the Egyptian army as they ran for it thought the Red Sea. Gideon, Samson, Jephthah, and David had all fought impossible battles against better equipped enemies to defend their people. The Hebrew prophets may have had a holy hotline to God, but they were roundly persecuted and martyred. Somehow, those ancestors had found the temerity to persevere in faith, trusting that they were following the will of God and would one day fully know God.

Our journeys can be hard. The Camino was hard. I had trained and thought I was ready for the challenge. My trail walks and Adirondack hikes felt like the perfect preparation, but nothing really prepares you for the long miles, day after day, week after week. There were blisters for me and heel pain for Duane. There were temperatures soaring well into the 90s and a sun so intense that it burned me through my clothes. Washed out trails sometimes meant we had to walk on busy roads. Bathrooms were few and far between. Sometimes trail markers were missing or just plain wrong. It helped on our Camino journey to remember those who had gone before us. After all, pilgrims had been walking those paths for more than 1,200 years. They didn’t have the advantage of Adirondack training, zero-drop trail shoes, or Gregory packs. If they could do it, I could do it.

On the Camino, hardship is also faced as pilgrims support one another. My Swedish companion Karen and I met Suzie. A stewardess from Idaho, Suzie was about to turn 50 and had decided to celebrate her big birthday by walking the Camino. She looked great in her brand-new matching gear, clothes, and pack, but when we wished her a Buen Camino, we could see she was near tears. We stopped to listen: her knee hurt, her pack was painful, she didn’t have a place to stay that night, and she had gotten lost the day before and a farmer had needed to give her a ride for miles back to the trail. Soon, we were adjusting Suzie’s pack, sharing blister plasters, and commiserating about the journey. That night, another friend we met along the way, Laura from Texas, shared her lodging with Suzie—and Laura continued to do so all the way to Santiago.

We, too, have encountered those who make our way easier. Healthcare providers take a special interest in our recovery. Caring friends compassionately listen to our family woes and offer words of wisdom. Companions for the journey show up when we feel like we are walking though the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Level-headed leaders remind us of our nation’s founding principles and call us to be a better people, a better nation, a better world. We find encouragement for the journey as we attend to that great cloud of witnesses who have lived in faith and call us onward to the better path and the brighter kingdom.

The closing scene of our reading from Hebrews is borrowed from the first century athletic arena: a marathon race nears its end as competitors turn into a stadium for a final lap. An overflowing crowd cheers them on. Waiting to welcome them at the finish line is the glorified Jesus, now revealed in holy splendor. He has gone on before through sorrow, unimaginable suffering, and even death—and he is the victor. The Hebrews were reminded that they could run this race in faith because they were surrounded by that great cloud of cheering witnesses. Jesus had gone ahead of them and waited to welcome them to his Kingdom where sorrow and suffering and sighing would be transformed to never ending joy.

On the second day of our Camino journey, when the realization sank in that this would not be a cake walk, I remembered a word of advice from the spiritual reading that I had done in preparation for the journey. Traditionally, pilgrims have coped with their physical suffering by praying for others, sometimes even carrying a stone or a token that represents the burden of the other. As you walk the Camino, you can see impromptu trailside shrines, piles of stones, tokens, notes, and photos where pilgrims have left behind the burden they are carrying for another. As I posted to Facebook and Instagram that evening, I sent out a plea to the Metaverse—send me your special prayer requests.

In they came, from this church and from other churches that I have served, from friends and family, from the community. There were prayers for personal struggles, for health concerns, for beloved ones going through tough times, for the nation, and more. Each morning, as I set my feet on the pilgrim path, I began to pray. My silent prayers found the rhythm of my breath and unfurled into the beauty of the Galician countryside. As the miles unraveled, I found that I hurt a lot less, I felt more at peace, and there was joy. I began to see that I was surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses. It wasn’t just those who were pilgrims around me and those who had walked the Camino before me over the eons. It was also those who had coveted my prayers, and all the people they had asked me to intercede for—and all the people who I knew were praying for me. We were all in it together. Best of all, Jesus was on the pilgrim path, Jesus who always walks this pilgrim journey with us.

May we follow in the footsteps of the Hebrews. Persist in the faith, my friends. Rise above weariness, hardship, and suffering. Draw strength from that great cloud of witnesses. Be confident in the meaning, purpose, and salvation that we have found in the Lord.

May we also know that we have a part to play in the faithful journeys of others. Indeed, we are part of that great cloud of witnesses, for we are all made one in Christ, our pioneer, our protector, our trailblazer. We are called to help and pray, to show up and cheer on, to point the way and keep the faith. We can make a difference in the lives of those who feel the journey is long, the way is dark, and there is no end in sight. Let’s open our eyes to those who need our witness. Let’s open our hearts and hands to make a caring difference. They say the journey of a thousand miles begins with one step. Let’s step out in faith. Amen.

Resources:

Madison N. Pierce. “Commentary on Hebrews 11:29-12:1” in Preaching This Week, Aug. 17, 2025. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-20-3/commentary-on-hebrews-1129-122-6

Mary Foskett. “Commentary on Hebrews 11:29-12:1” in Preaching This Week, Aug. 18, 2019. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-20-3/commentary-on-hebrews-1129-122-4

Amy L.B. Peeler. “Commentary on Hebrews 11:29-12:1” in Preaching This Week, Aug. 14, 2016. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-20-3/commentary-on-hebrews-1129-122-2

Erik Heen. “Commentary on Hebrews 11:29-12:1” in Preaching This Week, Aug. 18, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-20-3/commentary-on-hebrews-1129-122-3

John Piper. “Running with the Witnesses” in Desiring God, August 17, 1997. Accessed online at desiringGod.org.

Hebrews 11:29-12:2

29 By faith the people passed through the Red Sea as if it were dry land, but when the Egyptians attempted to do so they were drowned. 30 By faith the walls of Jericho fell after they had been encircled for seven days. 31 By faith Rahab the prostitute did not perish with those who were disobedient, because she had received the spies in peace.

32 And what more should I say? For time would fail me to tell of Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, of David and Samuel and the prophets, 33 who through faith conquered kingdoms, administered justice, obtained promises, shut the mouths of lions, 34 quenched the power of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, were made strong out of weakness, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight. 35 Women received their dead by resurrection. Others were tortured, refusing to accept release, in order to obtain a better resurrection. 36 Others suffered mocking and flogging and even chains and imprisonment. 37 They were stoned to death; they were sawn in two; they were killed by the sword; they went about in skins of sheep and goats, destitute, persecuted, tormented— 38 of whom the world was not worthy. They wandered in deserts and mountains and in caves and holes in the ground.

39 Yet all these, though they were commended for their faith, did not receive what was promised, 40 since God had provided something better so that they would not, apart from us, be made perfect.

12 Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, 2 looking to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.

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