Shine

March 2, 2025 / reverendjoannwhite / 2 Comments

Sabbath Day Thoughts “Shine” Luke 9:28-43

We have all had mountaintop moments, those bright and shining experiences when we feel close to God, one another, and the world around us. I have shared before that one of my mountaintop moments came at age twelve. That’s when I was baptized at the First Baptist Church. I had made my profession of faith and passed the scrutiny of the trustees. In an evening service of worship, in a dimly lit sanctuary, I waded into the bright baptismal tank where my pastor waited to immerse me. Going into the tank, I was most worried about my white robe floating up to expose my underwear. But once I was in the water, I could only think that this was exactly where I belonged, in waters as warm and welcoming as God’s love for me.

Later, as a young adult, I had a mountaintop moment that was instrumental in steering me toward seminary. I was volunteering in a mental health outreach ministry of the New York Avenue Presbyterian Church. Every Wednesday evening, the hall filled with a small faithful core of church volunteers, residents of St. Elizabeth’s Hospital and area halfway houses for folks living with mental illness, and homeless neighbors. On my first Wednesday night, I was a little scared. But one evening, as I served ice tea to my new friends, I felt God’s limitless love, not just for me but for all of us in the church hall. It was like getting hit by a freight train in a good way. God’s limitless love was there, always there, holding us, helping us, blessing us. I knew right then and there that I wanted to spend my life in that love.

Your mountaintop moments may be similar or very different. Perhaps you had that sense of connection to God, creation, and humanity as you held your newborn child, your heart filled to the bursting point by the incalculable miracle of that moment. Perhaps your mountaintop moment came on the athletic field. As you worked with teammates in a shared purpose, you found in that unity that you could be better than you actually were, that in your shared love for the game and one another and your collaborative pursuit of excellence you were blessed; you belonged. Perhaps your mountaintop moment came in nature, whether you were summiting your 46^th high peak, or paddling through the St. Regis canoe wilderness, or standing open-mouthed and filled with wonder in the eerie twilight of a total eclipse. Perhaps your mountaintop moment came in worship. It might have felt like an ordinary Sunday to others, but in the singing and the prayers, the message and the fellowship, you knew the nearness of God and your own belovedness.

If we all have mountaintop moments, then we all have valley moments, too. These are the occasions when our hearts tremble before the challenge that we face. I grew up in the valley of family dysfunction, a household troubled by alcohol abuse, domestic violence, and mental illness. The more my family under functioned, the more I tried to over function—to make peace, offer protection, be loving, be perfect. It often felt precarious, powerless, and scary. Your valley moments may have similar roots in a wounded family. Or, the valley may find us when our hearts are broken by the painful and puzzling end of a long, committed relationship. The valley finds us as we confront a bleak diagnosis or support a loved one in a time of health crisis and suffering. The valley finds us when our children struggle, pull away, and even reject us. The valley finds us when we are bowed down by grief and cannot imagine a tomorrow. The valley finds us when we tremble before the chaos unfolding on the national or world stage.

On Transfiguration Sunday, we accompany Jesus and his inner circle of disciples as they move from mountaintop to valley. Atop Mount Tabor, Peter, James, and John saw Jesus revealed in glory, the very light of God shining through him to illuminate the world. Not long before, the disciples had been troubled to hear Jesus anticipate the suffering and death that would await him in Jerusalem. On the mountaintop, flanked by Moses and Elijah, filled with heavenly light, the cross must have seemed like an impossibility for Jesus. In fact, it was such a bright and shining moment that Peter wanted it to last forever, to trade the Via Dolorosa for the moment of revelation. But those impetuous plans were thwarted by God’s proclamation, “This is my Son; listen to him!” Jesus had other plans that would return them to the valley, where a desperate father waited, seeking help for his sick son.

Transfiguration Sunday speaks to an essential tension in every life, where our mountaintop moments are followed by the hurt and hardship of the valley. Our bright and shining moments offer us clarity, affirmation, and love, but we don’t get to stay there. The valley finds us. We return to the hard work of healing.

In his second epistle to the early Christian communities that were scattered across the Roman Empire, the Apostle Peter recalled his mountaintop moment with the transfigured Jesus (2 Peter 1:16-21). He wrote, “[We were] eyewitnesses of his majesty. For he received honor and glory from God the Father when that voice was conveyed to him by the Majestic Glory, saying, ‘This is my Son, my Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.’ We ourselves heard this voice come from heaven, while we were with him on the holy mountain.” Peter came to think of his transfiguration experience as “a lamp shining in a dark place,” a memory with the capacity to illumine life in the valley. Our bright and shining moments kindle an unshakeable hope that shines in our darkness.

Prof. Dan Tomasulo, who teaches at the University of Pennsylvania, says that hope is the most unique of our positive emotions, because hope requires some degree of difficulty, negativity, or uncertainty to be kindled. If there isn’t something going wrong, we don’t call upon hope. When it comes to our emotional world, mountaintop and valley are a beautiful terrible dance. We find inspiration, hope, and purpose on the mountaintop. Then, as life’s valley confronts us with heartache and woe, we must call upon that hope. As hope springs into flame, the memory of our bright and shining moments equips us to face the everyday difficulties that plague us all. In drawing upon the vision and hope of the mountaintop, we find the grace to walk the lonesome valley.

Dr. Tomasulo points out that our level of hope can have a big impact on our lives. When we are high-hope people, we are energized by a passion that stirs our persistence and follow-through. We are optimistic about the future and see challenges as opportunities to grow and learn, rather than as roadblocks or obstacles that keep us stuck. High-hope people not only bounce back from setbacks—”they seem to bounce forward” and keep going despite the challenges.

If the Apostle Peter and Dr. Tomasulo are right, then we have what it takes to endure the valley and move on into the future that God holds ready. There is a holy light that shines in the memory of our times on the mountaintop, and that light never goes away. It shines in the world’s darkness; it shines in our valley. That persistent, powerful, hopeful light, is there, whenever we need it. Thanks be to God.

I’d like to close my message by leading us in a time of reflection, that invites our mountaintop moments to shine in the valley. Are we ready?

We begin by being seated comfortably with a strong back and soft front, rooted in your seat and grounded in the moment. You can adjust your body as needed, attending to how you feel.

If it feels comfortable, you may close your eyes, or simply allow your gaze to be soft and rest upon something still.

Now let’s take a few deep breaths, breathing in through the nose and releasing your breath slowly through the mouth. Imagine you are breathing in this time and place and breathing out any concerns over what has happened in the past. Breathe in this moment and breathe out any worry about what will be. Simply breathe in and out, here and now.

Now I invite you to bring to mind a bright and shining moment. This is a moment when you felt close to God, others, creation. This is a moment that feels hopeful, filled with light, connection, possibility. It’s a moment that feels a little holy, a little more than what is ordinary. Do you have your moment?

Allow that moment to come to life for you, filling you with the images, feelings, and body felt senses of the moment. Allow it to unfold. Be steeped and filled with the goodness of that moment. Take some nice deep breaths into it.

Remember that the blessing of this moment is here for you whenever you need it.

Thank God, and your body, and your breath for that memory and for this moment.

Now, I invite you to begin to come back, perhaps flexing your fingers or wiggling your toes. When you are ready, you can open your eyes.

Thank goodness for those mountaintop moments. May they shine in the valley below. Amen.

Resources:

Susan Henrich. “Commentary on Luke 9:28-36” in Preaching This Week, Feb. 27, 2022. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/transfiguration-of-our-lord-3/commentary-on-luke-928-36-37-43-5

Troy Troftgruben. “Commentary on Luke 9:28-36” in Preaching This Week, March 2, 2025. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/transfiguration-of-our-lord-3/commentary-on-luke-928-36-37-43a

Kathryn Schifferdecker. “Glimpse of Glory” in Dear Working Preacher, Feb. 27, 2022. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/dear-working-preacher/glimpse-of-glory

Dan J. Tomasulo. “How to Cultivate Hope” in Psychology Today, May 2, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/articles/202305/the-power-of-hope?msockid=02b77a0d2ad563c12b2668682bd2625c

Luke 9:28-43

The Transfiguration

²⁸Now about eight days after these sayings Jesus took with him Peter and John and James and went up on the mountain to pray. ²⁹And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became as bright as a flash of lightning. ³⁰Suddenly they saw two men, Moses and Elijah, talking to him. ³¹They appeared in glory and were speaking about his exodus, which he was about to fulfill in Jerusalem. ³²Now Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep, but as they awoke they saw his glory and the two men who stood with him. ³³Just as they were leaving him, Peter said to Jesus, “Master, it is good for us to be here; let us set up three tents: one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah,” not realizing what he was saying. ³⁴While he was saying this, a cloud came and overshadowed them, and they were terrified as they entered the cloud. ³⁵Then from the cloud came a voice that said, “This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him!” ³⁶When the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone. And they kept silent and in those days told no one any of the things they had seen.

Jesus Heals a Boy with a Demon

³⁷On the next day, when they had come down from the mountain, a great crowd met him. ³⁸Just then a man from the crowd shouted, “Teacher, I beg you to look at my son; he is my only child. ³⁹Suddenly a spirit seizes him, and all at once he shrieks. It convulses him until he foams at the mouth; it mauls him and will scarcely leave him. ⁴⁰I begged your disciples to cast it out, but they could not.” ⁴¹Jesus answered, “You faithless and perverse generation, how much longer must I be with you and put up with you? Bring your son here.” ⁴²While he was being brought forward, the demon dashed him to the ground in convulsions. But Jesus rebuked the unclean spirit, healed the boy, and gave him back to his father. ⁴³And all were astounded at the greatness of God.

Beyond Measure

February 23, 2025 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Beyond Measure” Luke 6:27-38

Claiborne “CP” Ellis grew up in poverty in Durham, NC, the son of a mill worker. He married at seventeen and quickly fathered three children. The youngest was born blind and developmentally disabled. Despite working two jobs, he could rarely pay his bills. In an interview with journalist Studs Terkel, CP remembered, “I worked my butt off and never seemed to break even. They say abide by the law, go to church, do right and live for the Lord and everything will work out. It didn’t work out. It kept gettin’ worse and worse. I began to get bitter.”

CP joined the Ku Klux Klan. His father told him it was the savior of the white race. The night he first put on the white robe and hood, was led through a crowd of fellow clansmen, and knelt before an illuminated cross, CP felt that he finally belonged. He rose through the ranks, eventually becoming the Grand Exalted Cyclops.

Ann Atwater was one of nine children born to a Black sharecropping family in rural North Carolina. Her mother died when she was six. Her father earned five cents an hour in the fields, all the children working right alongside him. As a child laborer on a white owner’s farm, Ann recalled her family being given food only through the back door, after white workers had already eaten. She was taught that White people were better and that their needs came before hers.

That changed when Ann moved to Durham as a young mother with two daughters. There she became a community organizer with Operation Breakthrough, a program to help Black people escape generational poverty. Ann’s deep, powerful voice could energize a crowd, and she wasn’t afraid to share her opinions loudly and proudly. She concluded that the most effective method of getting people to listen to her was to “holler at them.” When she called a meeting, she meant business.

It should come as no surprise that CP Ellis and Ann Atwater were enemies. At town council meetings, Ann passionately advocated before the all-White board for her Black neighbors. She called for housing improvements and better schools. At the same meetings, CP made provocative and inaccurate statements, expressing his fear and resentment of Black people. “Blacks are taking over the city. They got all the good jobs, and you’re all sittin’ here letting ‘em do it.” Ann and CP were such bitter foes that she once almost pulled the penknife she kept in her purse on him at a Durham City Council meeting when he proposed Apartheid-like restrictions for Blacks. Ann remembered, “As soon as he got close to me, I was going to grab his head from behind and cut him from ear to ear.” But her pastor grabbed her hand and said, “Don’t give them the satisfaction.”

We all have enemies: those who have hurt us, worked against us, and made our lives hard. We all have enemies, those who have talked us down, disrespected our gender, or laughed at our best efforts. In this desperately partisan time, we all have enemies, who label us as “them,” advocate for candidates we can’t abide, envision an America where we are left behind or the vulnerable are victimized. We all have enemies.

In today’s reading from the Sermon on the Plain, Jesus gave his friends guidance on how to relate to enemies. The Ancient Near East was a world driven by retributive violence. An accidental death could readily explode into the murder of an entire family. Blood feuds pit neighbor against neighbor and nation against nation for generations. Jewish law tried to limit this escalating cycle of bloody revenge by teaching a tit-for-tat justice—“life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burn for burn, wound for wound, stripe for stripe (Exodus 21:23-25). Yet Jesus broke even with this moderate teaching of measured retaliation. Jesus insisted that his followers exceed the righteousness of the Torah. Instead of pulling out their opponent’s teeth and blacking their eyes, Jesus’ followers were to love.

Jesus taught that we love our enemies by praying for them. That doesn’t mean we are to pray, “Lord, remove my enemy from my life.” Or, “Lord, give my enemy the comeuppance that he deserves!” Rather, we are to prayerfully bring our enemy before the Lord with the intention of agape love—the sort of unselfish love that impartially wishes the best for others. Agape for our enemies? Really Jesus? If you expect that, we may need to begin by praying for ourselves. We may need to ask God to soften the hardness of our hearts and help us with our anger, vulnerability, and hurt feelings. Once we have made the choice for agape instead of retribution and asked the Lord for the help we need, we can begin to imagine our enemy in the circle of God’s love. We can begin to pray for an enemy who is transformed by love.

I suspect that Jesus taught his followers to pray for their enemies because he knew that prayer would change them. When we turn to God in prayer, we acknowledge our powerlessness. We accept that we cannot change what others feel or do. We begin to see that we can only control ourselves, and we can choose to not fuel that endless cycle of retribution. As we pray, we find healing for our pain, our hard hearts soften, and we cultivate compassion and empathy. By bringing our enemy into God’s loving regard in prayer, we participate in God’s mercy. We move beyond measuring who deserves what. We learn to be merciful as God is merciful. In praying for those who have wronged us, we join God in the healing and redemption of our world, one enemy at a time.

Imagine the animosity that Ann Atwater and CP Ellis felt for one another in 1971 when a court order finally forced the city of Durham to integrate its public schools. Many in the community vehemently opposed desegregation. Racial tensions among students ran high. Fights broke out in classrooms and hallways. In an effort to forestall more school violence, the town council called for a charette, an intense collaborative process to come up with new school policies. For ten days community members would meet twelve-hours-a-day to find a way forward. The council appointed two community members to chair the process: Ann Atwater and CP Ellis. Neither liked the idea. CP said, “It was impossible. How could I work with her? Her and I, up to that point, cussed each other, bawled each other [out], we hated each other.” Things got off to a rough start when CP brought a machine gun to the first meeting. He was dead set on sabotaging any progress that the charette might make.

According to Ann, the first breakthrough with CP happened when a gospel choir came in to sing for the charette. CP, who had never attended a black church, was unfamiliar with the lively music, but he liked it. He started clapping to the wrong beat. Ann looked over, grabbed his hands, and in her words “learned him how to clap.”

As Ann and CP worked together, they began to see that they had much in common. They both had endured terrible poverty, withering hardship, and limited opportunity. They both loved their children and wanted them to have possibilities for the future that they had been denied. They wanted their kids to attend schools free of violence. CP later said, “Here we are, two people from the far end of the fence, having identical problems, except her being black and me being white…The amazing thing about it, her and I, up to that point, we hated each other. Up to that point, we didn’t know each other. We didn’t know we had things in common.” Ann and CP realized that if they didn’t overcome their animosity, they would ruin the possibility of helping any children. They cried together and set aside their differences.

At the conclusion of the charette, CP and Ann presented the School Board with a list of recommendations, including giving students a larger say on education issues by expanding the board to include two students, one Black, one White. They also proposed major changes in the school curriculum, like more instruction on dealing with racial violence, creation of a group to discuss and resolve problems before they escalated, and expansion in choices of textbooks to include African-American authors.

After their work together, CP stepped down from his position as Exalted Grand Cyclops and left the KKK. He and Ann worked to desegregate the Durham school system and continued to speak jointly at civil rights seminars and meetings for three decades. CP went back to school, earned his High School diploma, and became a successful union organizer in an AFL-CIO chapter with a majority of black members. CP said of the experience, “When you walk into a plant with those Black women and butt heads with professional union busters, college men. And we hold our own against them. Now I feel like somebody for real.”

At CP’s funeral in 2005, Ann sat with family. She had come to see CP as her friend and brother. She was invited to share the eulogy. In her deep, powerful voice, Ann Atwater said of her thirty-year friendship with CP, “God had a plan for both of us, for us to get together.”

May we go forth to love our enemies.

Ann and CP’s story has been told in the 1996 book and 2016 film, both entitled “Best of Enemies,”

as well as the PBS documentary “An Unlikely Friendship.”

Resources:

Virginia Bridges. “Durham civil rights activist Ann Atwater dies at 80” in The News & Observer, April 4, 2019.

Myrna Oliver. “C.P. Ellis, 78; Once a Ku Klux Klan Leader, He Became a Civil Rights Activist” in The Los Angeles Times, Nov. 9, 2005.

Facing History & Ourselves, “Breaking Isolation”, last updated August 2, 2016. Accessed online at https://www.facinghistory.org/resource-library/breaking-isolation

Sarah Henrich. “Commentary on Luke 6:27-38” in Preaching this Week, Feb. 20, 2022. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/seventh-sunday-after-epiphany-3/commentary-on-luke-627-38-2

Mary Hinkle Shore. “Commentary on Luke 6:27-38” in Preaching this Week, Feb. 23, 2025. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/seventh-sunday-after-epiphany-3/commentary-on-luke-627-38-3

William Loyd Allen. “Theological Perspective on Luke 6:27-38” in Feasting on the Word: Luke, Volume 1. Westminster John Knox Press, 2014.

Charon Ringe. “Exegetical Perspective on Luke 6:27-38” in Feasting on the Word: Luke, Volume 1. Westminster John Knox Press, 2014.

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.”

Photo source: https://www.dncr.nc.gov/blog/2020/01/28/activist-ann-atwater

Blessing or Woe?

February 16, 2025 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Blessing or Woe?” Luke 6:17-26

Wednesday afternoons are busy at Baldwin House. That’s when our neighbors with more month than money head to Grace Pantry. The pantry provides them with non-food necessities free of charge, items that we find essential that can’t be purchased with SNAP benefits. At Grace Pantry, new Moms pick up diapers and baby wipes. Other folks may need shampoo, toothpaste, or bath soap. Everyone needs toilet paper and paper towels. The volunteers at Grace Pantry report that both demand and costs have been on the rise, due to inflation, rent increases, and an economic recovery that hasn’t truly trickled down to the poor.

Two days a week, the Clint McCoy Feeding Center in Mzuzu, Malawi serves eighty local children a warm meal, meeting the nutritional need of kids who are malnourished. Lengthy droughts, followed by flooding rains, have caused food shortages in Malawi, and the AIDS epidemic has created a generation of orphans whose needs are too much for local villages. The feeding center provides a modest meal of fortified porridge and tea to youngsters who would otherwise not eat that day. As the meal is shared, the center rings with the laughter and joy of happy young voices. They sing songs, play simple games, and eat their fill.

Marge likes Tuesdays best because that’s the day her Meals on Wheels volunteer comes to visit. Marge isn’t hungry, but after her husband died, she stopped cooking. It’s a lot of work and it hardly seems worthwhile cooking for just one. Marge sits by the window alone and waits. She turns down the tv because she wants to be sure she hears the knock. A kind-hearted volunteer arrives with a big smile and takes time to share some sweet chitchat about the weather, family, and community news. When Marge tucks in to her dinner later, she is thankful for the food and even more so for her Meals on Wheels friend.

In our gospel lesson, Jesus descended the mountain and waded into the crowd that awaited him on the plain. There, he intentionally entered into the need and suffering of his world with healing and bold words of comfort. Jesus blessed the poor, hungry, grieving, and hated people of the community. In a first century world where affliction was typically attributed to sinfulness or a sign of affliction by God, Jesus’ words must have left the disciples scratching their heads. But for those who suffered, Jesus’ words were an assurance that God saw them, loved them, and longed for them to thrive.

If Jesus’ words of blessing stunned his followers, then his words of woe might have made them wonder what in the world Jesus was talking about. In those days, to be rich, filled with good things, joyful, and well-respected was a blessing not a woe. Your abundance and status were sure signs of a healthy relationship with God and a guarantee that you deserved every accolade that came your way. I suspect that we don’t like Jesus’ woes any more than his disciples did. After all, we may not be rich, but even the poorest people among us are comfortable and well-fed. We have plenty to laugh about. We can congratulate ourselves on our accomplishments and thank God for life’s sweetness. Where’s the harm in that?

In his paraphrase of the Bible, The Message, the late Rev. Dr. Eugene Peterson translated Jesus’ woes like this:

“It’s trouble ahead if you think you have it made. What you have is all you’ll ever get.

And it’s trouble ahead if you’re satisfied with yourself. Your self will not satisfy you for long.

And it’s trouble ahead if you think life’s all fun and games. There’s suffering to be met, and you’re going to meet it.

There’s trouble ahead when you live only for the approval of others, saying what flatters them, doing what indulges them. Popularity contests are not truth contests—look how many scoundrel preachers were approved by your ancestors! Your task is to be true, not popular.”

The trouble with our affluence, the trouble with our plenty, the trouble with our non-stop laughter, the trouble with our playing for the court of public opinion is that we can lose all perspective. Instead of acknowledging our utter dependence upon God, we trust in our bank accounts, our stockpile of possessions, and all that good press we get. Woe to us when we believe money or things can solve all our problems. Woe to us when we laugh while the world wails. Woe to us when we find ourselves saying and doing unconscionable things to please the court of public opinion.

Historian and Bible scholar Justo Gonzalez read Jesus’ Sermon on the Plain and said, this is the “hard-hitting gospel.” This is the gospel that 2,000 years later still rings out as an urgent wake-up call. This is the gospel that makes us uncomfortable and calls us to change our ways if we wish to truly be part of God’s Kingdom. When Jesus comes to the plain, he levels with us, delivering a sucker punch that undermines everything that we think is right with the world.

Throughout his ministry, Jesus made the assurance of God’s love and presence a reality for those who were poor, hungry, grieving, and hated. From providing free healthcare to all comers to feeding the 5,000 with a marvelous multiplication of bread and fish, from restoring a widow’s only son to life to welcoming tax collectors, lepers, and demoniacs, Jesus was all about blessing the vulnerable people of his day. In those intentional actions, in that three-year object lesson of ministry, Jesus hoped that his disciples would begin to understand the beautiful topsy-turvy world that he longed to forge. Jesus believed we could make on earth a world that anticipates God’s Kingdom where blessing abounds for those who suffer and everybody is a neighbor, deserving of our care, time, love, and respect.

The disciples understood the values that Jesus hoped to impart in his blessings and woes. That’s why they chose to enter into the suffering of their world. We shouldn’t forget that the first office of the church—the role of deacon—was created to feed hungry widows. And the Apostle Paul solicited generous donations from his Gentile churches to feed the victims of famine in Judea. And Peter worked a miracle of resurrection, raising the Disciple Dorcas, so that she could resume her love and care for the impoverished widows of Joppa. In countless acts of care and generosity, those first Christians put God first and used the resources and authority at their disposal to be a blessing to those who needed it most.

More than any other gospel, Luke warns us of the dangers of our relative affluence, highlighting hard-hitting teachings from Jesus like the Sermon on the Plain. It’s tempting to turn the page and disregard what Jesus had to say, but the Lord had hope for we who have plenty. Jesus trusted that we would know what truly matters most. Jesus hoped we would follow him and those first disciples. We would put our resources to work in His purpose. We would dare to enter into the suffering of others and seek to build that world where everyone gets blessed. Lord, hasten the day.

This year, we will have three special offerings to benefit Grace Pantry, where our neighbors with more month than money pick up essential items, free of charge. In March, we’ll be collecting toothpaste and toothbrushes. In August, we’ll be looking for paper goods: toilet paper, paper towels, and napkins. In November, we’ll ask for donations of socks, which are one of the most sought-after resources at the pantry. Watch for the offering boxes at the side entrance and some Minutes for Mission from Pam Martin. Let’s bless our neighbors.

In May, we’ll remember the Women of Grace, whose ministries support the most vulnerable residents of Malawi, its impoverished widows and orphans. Their diverse efforts serve widows with cook stoves, metal roofs, sanitary outhouses, micro loans for small businesses, and sewing skills and supplies to supplement income. Their diverse efforts also serve orphans with literacy programs, books, and, of course, the Clint McCoy Feeding Cener, where 80 hungry children are fed twice weekly at the cost of about $250-a-month. Let’s bless our neighbors.

Every day, people who are grieving and lonely cross our paths. They live across the street in the DeChantal or up at Will Rogers. They need the skilled nursing of Elderwood or Mercy Care. They wait at home for Meals on Wheels delivery, cherishing the social interaction even more than the food. They are our family members: the aging aunt who never married, the grandpa who never recovered from the death of grandma, the college student who feels far from home. They may even come to church. Let’s open our eyes and bless our neighbors.

When the poor, hungry, grieving, and hated neighbors of our world get blessed, the transformation begins. Wool socks warm cold feet. African orphans rejoice. No one feels alone and unloved. The hard-hitting gospel becomes a call to action. As we dare to care and share and get involved, we remind our vulnerable neighbors that God sees them, loves them, and longs for them to thrive. As blessings abound, this world begins to look like the Kingdom that Jesus would have us serve. May it be so.

Resources

Susan Henrich. “Commentary on Luke 6:17-26” in Preaching This Week, Feb. 13, 2022. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/sixth-sunday-after-epiphany-3/commentary-on-luke-617-26-2

Mary Hinkle Shore. “Commentary on Luke 6:17-26” in Preaching This Week, Feb. 16, 2025. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/sixth-sunday-after-epiphany-3/commentary-on-luke-617-26-3

Keith Erickson. Theological Perspective on Luke 6:17-26 in Feasting on the Gospels, Luke. Vol. 1. Westminster John Knox Press, 2014.

Thomas Edward Frank. Pastoral Perspective on Luke 6:17-26 in Feasting on the Gospels, Luke. Vol. 1. Westminster John Knox Press, 2014.

Luke 6:17-26

¹⁷He came down with them and stood on a level place with a great crowd of his disciples and a great multitude of people from all Judea, Jerusalem, and the coast of Tyre and Sidon. ¹⁸They had come to hear him and to be healed of their diseases, and those who were troubled with unclean spirits were cured. ¹⁹And everyone in the crowd was trying to touch him, for power came out from him and healed all of them.

Blessings and Woes

²⁰Then he looked up at his disciples and said:

“Blessed are you who are poor,
    for yours is the kingdom of God.
²¹“Blessed are you who are hungry now,
    for you will be filled.
“Blessed are you who weep now,
    for you will laugh.

²²“Blessed are you when people hate you and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you^[a] on account of the Son of Man. ²³Rejoice on that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven, for that is how their ancestors treated the prophets.

²⁴“But woe to you who are rich,
    for you have received your consolation.
²⁵“Woe to you who are full now,
    for you will be hungry.
“Woe to you who are laughing now,
    for you will mourn and weep.

²⁶“Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is how their ancestors treated the false prophets.

Catching People

February 9, 2025 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Catching People” Luke 5:1-11

When it comes to vocation, we tend to think of people like me—clergy. We work through years of graduate studies. We learn biblical languages. We devote our lives to preaching the gospel. We live to lead churches and seek ways to be good news for our communities.

When it comes to vocation, we think of people who live the monastic life. They join religious communities and dedicate themselves to a holy purpose. Like Mother Teresa, they tend the poorest of the poor in slums around the world. Or, like Julian of Norwich, they live a cloistered life, apart from the public. They commit their days to prayer, contemplation, worship, and devotion to God.

When it comes to vocation, our thoughts turn to great Christian thinkers throughout history. We remember C.S. Lewis, who during the Second World War offered spiritual comfort to the people of Great Britain with faithful fireside chats, broadcast by BBC Radio. Or we think of Presbyterian author Ann Lamott, whose wry essays and autobiographical books about the life of faith offer inspiration and a healthy dose of humor.

When it comes to vocation, we don’t typically think of ourselves. We don’t have seminary degrees. We’ve never studied Hebrew and Greek, nor would we want to. Our lives are not cloistered. We don’t have the luxury of praying 24/7. We don’t inspire the worldwide web with our latest podcast. We don’t write books that rocket to the top of the New York Times bestseller list. We are who we are. Don’t talk to us about vocation.

Jesus might want to expand our understanding of vocation this morning. Take Simon Peter for example. In those days when you did what your father did, Peter didn’t have a priestly or scribal pedigree. He was a fisherman, someone who spent his time casting a dragnet into the Sea of Galilee, plucking from the depths a fishy harvest that provided for his family. He must have been pretty good at it, too—successful enough to own his own boats and nets, successful enough to have partners in his trade. Peter had the sort of everyday concerns that we deal with: taxes to pay, social conflicts between rival factions, and the political chaos that was first century Israel. If you asked anyone in the crowd that gathered on the lakeshore that morning to point to the person most likely to receive a special invitation to join Jesus in ministry, I doubt that anyone would have pointed to Simon Peter and his partners. But Jesus thought otherwise.

Jesus’ invitation for our lives often comes when we, like Peter, are minding our own business and caught up in everyday busyness. One day, we are sitting in our office when we read an advertisement printed on a brown paper lunch bag. It says, “Imagine if you couldn’t read this message.” We think about how much we love to read, how important it is for everything from school to work, from learning about current events to paying bills. Or One Thanksgiving, we take our aging mother to a community dinner. At the meal, we are impressed. The food is great and plentiful. The atmosphere is friendly and family like. An army of helpers make the dinner a warm and welcoming event. Or one year, we stop on our daily walk around the village to watch the IPW at work. We marvel at the teamwork – folks harvesting ice, moving blocks, guiding them into place, and slinging slush. All that volunteer effort makes an Ice Palace fit for a music legend. Our opportunities to serve find us all the time, whether we want them to or not.

Simon Peter’s story suggests that we can be resistant to our calling. Peter resisted the invitation to put out into deep water and lower his nets. Who could blame him? The man had plied his dragnets all night long without anything to show for it, and he knew that, this late in the day, fish in the Sea of Galilee would retreat into the cool depths, far from the reach of his nets. When Peter said to Jesus, “If you say so, I will let down the nets,” it sounded less like the fisherman was eagerly jumping to it and more like he was merely humoring the Lord. Even the abundant catch didn’t convince Peter to sign on as a disciple. It left him feeling inadequate and ill-equipped. On his knees in the bottom of the boat, amid the slippery, silvery catch, all Peter could stammer were all the reasons he couldn’t do the job, “Lord, you got the wrong guy, I am a sinful man.”

We, too, can think of every good reason to say, “No!” when the opportunity to love our neighbors and serve God’s Kingdom finds us. We are tired. We are too busy. We have other plans. If we say “yes” to Jesus, we might have to say “no” to something else, and we have FOMO—fear of missing out on what is just around the corner. We think we don’t have what it takes. We wonder what the neighbors might say. We’re just too sinful for all this vocation stuff. In some ways, all those excuses and worries have an element of truth. But Jesus isn’t looking for perfection. Jesus is looking for commitment, a humble “yes” to giving it a try.

When Simon Peter moved past his resistance to Jesus’ purpose for his life, he would become a blessing to the world around him. Peter’s abundant catch on the Sea of Galilee was an anticipation of the many, many people that Peter would help as he stepped up to his role as a disciple. Peter would bless Aeneas with mobility after years of paralysis. He would raise the disciple Dorcas to life after her sudden death. He would welcome even the Gentiles to God’s love by baptizing the Roman Centurion Cornelius and his family.

We, too, when we move past our resistance and dare to commit to the opportunity to serve God and neighbor, are a blessing to others. That paper bag invitation to consider the importance of literacy prompts us to help people discover the joy of reading. We tutor learning disabled adults who slipped through the cracks in public school. We mentor refugee kids who have escaped hunger or terror to find a new life in a new land. That Thanksgiving community meal inspires us to get involved. The next Thanksgiving, the whole family is making pies, serving meals, and sharing hospitality with neighbors that we didn’t even know we had. That pause at the Ice Palace in our daily walk leads to decades of commitment to the IPW. From sketching next year’s palace on a cocktail napkin to monitoring ice on Lake Flower, from working alongside our neighbors to delighting in the joy of visitors, we become a blessing.

Simon Peter’s story reminds us that in saying “yes” to Jesus we get blessed, even as we are a blessing. Peter would find a remarkable friendship with Jesus, who accepted and loved him just as he was. Peter would become first among the apostles, beloved by the early church and treasured by the tradition. Peter would find meaning and purpose that he had never dared to imagine, and he had the satisfaction of knowing that because he joined his purpose to the Lord’s mission, the world would never be the same.

We can trust that as we say “yes” to our opportunities to serve God and neighbor, we too will be blessed. My choice to tutor refugee children in Virginia would change how I looked at the world. It would set me on a path to support other refugees from Washington, DC to Chicago to Saranac Lake. In all those relationships, I assure you that I have been more blessed by others than they have been by me. I am certain that if we check in with our friends who volunteer at the Community Lunchbox, the Wednesday Community Supper, or the Thanksgiving Dinner at the Adult Center, they will wax poetic about the personal blessing of their commitment. Likewise, if you take time to inquire of any of our Ice Palace Workers, they will regale you with tales of laughter, community, and joy that have blessed them beyond measure in their years of service.

Jesus set Peter’s feet on the path of catching people. But on that fateful day on the lakeshore, it was Peter who got caught—caught up in God’s purpose for our world. When it comes to vocation, we tend to think of clergy people, monks and nuns, scholars and authors. But Simon Peter might encourage us to look in the mirror. Jesus has an invitation for us, my friends. He would like to catch us. May we say “yes” to his calling.

Resources

Abraham Smith. “Commentary on Luke 5:1-11” in Preaching This Week, Feb. 9, 2025. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/fifth-sunday-after-epiphany-3/commentary-on-luke-51-11-8

Pamela Cooper-White. “Pastoral Perspective on Luke 5:1-11” in Feasting on the Gospels: Luke Volume 1. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2014.

Ronald J. Allen. “Homiletical Perspective on Luke 5:1-11” in Feasting on the Gospels: Luke Volume 1. Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2014.

Ronald J. Allen. “Commentary on Luke 5:1-11” in Preaching This Week, Feb. 10, 2019. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/fifth-sunday-after-epiphany-3/commentary-on-luke-51-11-4

Luke 5:1-11

5 Once while Jesus was standing beside the Lake of Gennesaret and the crowd was pressing in on him to hear the word of God, ²he saw two boats there at the shore of the lake; the fishermen had gotten out of them and were washing their nets. ³He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little way from the shore. Then he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat. ⁴When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.” ⁵Simon answered, “Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.” ⁶When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to burst. ⁷So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both boats, so that they began to sink. ⁸But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’s knees, saying, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” ⁹For he and all who were with him were astounded at the catch of fish that they had taken, ¹⁰and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. Then Jesus said to Simon, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.” ¹¹When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.

Image Source: https://www.adirondackdailyenterprise.com/news/local-news/2025/02/celebrate-good-times-come-on/

The Gospel We Don’t Want to Hear

February 2, 2025 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — The Gospel We Don’t Want to Hear Luke 4:21-30

Cindy and Bud could use a miracle. They are sandwiched between generations, caring for aging parents and young children. Cindy is always taxiing kids to music lessons, driving to sporting events, or making cupcakes for a school party. Bud is always getting his parents to doctor’s appointments, tackling their home repairs, or unraveling problems with their finances. When Cindy and Bud’s youngest child ended up in the hospital, they were overwhelmed. They pray a lot, asking for help, resources, support, but those big life problems don’t go away.

Heather followed in the footsteps of her parents to become a teacher. She felt especially called to work with underserved and at-risk youth. But when Heather started work with Teach for America in an inner-city school, she found things practically impossible. Her classroom was chaotic. Absenteeism was rife. Fights were routine. Some students came to school hungry or in the same unwashed clothes that they had been wearing for weeks. She started the school year thinking she would do transformational work. Later, she just hoped that her students would pass. It has been lonely and stressful. She wishes things were different, but she thinks that would take a miracle.

Sam doesn’t understand why God doesn’t cure his wife’s rheumatoid arthritis. She lives with constant pain and has been through more surgeries than Sam can count. They have tried a healthy diet, exercise, heating pads, ice packs, supplements, alternative therapies, and prescription medications. Sometimes she seems to be in remission, but it never lasts. They pray about it and so does their church, but they are still waiting on their miracle.

Our gospel lesson today allows us to listen in as worshipers respond to Jesus’ first sermon in Nazareth. At first folks were thrilled to hear that Isaiah’s vision of good news for the poor, release to captives, healing for the sick, and a coming time of God’s Jubilee was being fulfilled in Jesus. They knew that Jesus had been up to some spectacular things in Capernaum, working miracles of healing and casting out demons. They were eager for Jesus to work his deeds of power right there in his hometown. “Come on, Jesus,” they implored him, “heal thyself. How about some miracles for your hometown crowd?”

But there were no miracles in Nazareth on that sabbath day. Instead, Jesus’ sermon headed in a direction that they didn’t want to hear. Faithful people in the hometown crowd don’t always get miracles. Jesus talked about the God’s mercy and grace flowing to unexpected places, beyond the bounds of the covenant community, even to traditional enemies of Israel—Naaman the Syrian leper getting a beautiful new birthday suit and the poor Phoenician widow at Zarephath finding relief from famine. Who wants to hear about God’s goodness flowing to unexpected places when you have a sick child, an incurable disease, or a personal crisis that has brought you to your knees. No miracles? Perhaps we can understand why people in Nazareth got so angry.

Why doesn’t everyone get a miracle? A 2023 Lifeway Survey found that an increasing number of churchgoers in the United States subscribe to beliefs associated with the prosperity gospel, sometimes called the “health and wealth gospel” or “name it and claim it” theology. Advocates of the prosperity gospel argue that God wills the financial prosperity and physical well-being of his people and that faith, positive speech, and donations to select Christian ministries can increase one’s material wealth and health. Gifted preacher Creflo Dollar tells us that the Lord is eager to bless his faithful ones with wealth. Pastor Benny Hin says that God is ready to heal our incurable diseases and shower us with abundant health. And the charismatic Joel Osteen says that the choice for Jesus can grant us our best life now. Health, wealth, and the best life ever. That’s the gospel we want to hear. With promises like that, it’s no wonder that these three men are multi-millionaires with thousands of followers.

I don’t begrudge prosperity preachers their health, wealth, and best lives now, but I might want to challenge them a bit. Because I have noticed that no matter how hard we pray, how much we give, or how faithful we are, we don’t always get the miracle we are asking for. Indeed, the most devout and faithful of people can find that their life circumstances are a far cry from wealthy, healthy, and best ever. In fact, sometimes the utterly faithful choices that people make land them in difficult, stressful, no-win situations. That’s the way it is, and I suspect there are plenty of people who have been disappointed by the empty promises made from prosperity gospel pulpits.

What do we do when God doesn’t give us what we want? The peaceful assembly in Nazareth turned into a lynch mob, ready to throw Jesus down a gully and stone him to death. Bible scholars tell us that if we take a step back and look at what happened in Nazareth, we can see that it foreshadowed what would happen throughout Jesus’ ministry—an initial welcome, appeals for miracles, followed soon afterward by angry rejection and violence. Jesus didn’t end up the victim of a Nazareth stoning; instead, he would find himself in Jerusalem, rejected, abandoned, and friendless, hanging from a cross while mocked and taunted. Where’s the health, wealth, and best life now in that calling?

Our ancestor in the Reformed tradition John Calvin taught that God is not transactional. Five fervent prayers and a healthy donation to the church does not earn us a miracle. God is sovereign, with the power, wisdom, and authority to do as God chooses. We want a world in which God builds a protective wall around the faithful and grants us a privileged life. But it doesn’t always work out that way. In Calvin’s words, for a time “the upright and deserving [are] tossed about by many adversaries, and even oppressed by the malice and iniquity of the impious” (Institutes 1.v.7). We all have days when we feel we are waiting on a miracle that doesn’t come. Yet Calvin also taught that God is loving, merciful, kind, and fatherly. Our help is found in the nearness of God, who came close to us in Jesus and preached to a hostile hometown crowd in Nazareth. We may be afflicted, but hope is found in God whose presence, according to Calvin, “takes root in the heart” (1.v.9) and “dwells by God’s very present power in each of us.”

God is with us in all the circumstances that make us want to pray for a miracle. God is present with the strength and courage to help us get out of bed in the morning and put one foot in front of the other. God is with people like Cindy and Bud, who are stretched thin with the care of their extended family. God is with people like Heather, whose vocational dreams don’t come true. God is with Sam as he supports his wife with chronic illness. The presence of the holy in the midst of days that feel downright unholy must sometimes be miracle enough.

Jesus was acutely aware of God’s support and presence. He was able to face hate and terrible adversity because he knew that he and the Father were one. Jesus made it his daily practice to slip away early in the morning or late in the evening to spend time with God. By attending to God’s presence, Jesus found the resources to meet the insatiable needs of the crowds and face the mounting attacks of his opponents. On the night of his arrest, in his anguished prayer time with God in the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus found the resolve to even face the cross that his enemies had in store for him. Jesus didn’t get a miracle of deliverance, but he was able to see that God would be with him in his time of trial, and God would ultimately win the victory over sin and death.

Every faithful life, my friends, has times when we feel like we could use a miracle. May we remember that the Lord is with us with the strength, help, and courage to endure. May that be miracle enough.

Resources

Shively Smith. “Commentary on Luke 4:21-30” in Preaching This Week, Jan. 30, 2022. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/fourth-sunday-after-epiphany-3/commentary-on-luke-421-30-5

David S. Jacobsen. “Commentary on Luke 4:21-30” in Preaching This Week, Feb. 3, 2019. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/fourth-sunday-after-epiphany-3/commentary-on-luke-421-30-4

Matt Fitzgerald. “Homiletical Perspective on Luke 4:21-30” in Feasting on the Gospels: Luke 1. Westminster John Knox Press, 2014.

R. Alan Culpepper. “The Gospel of Luke” in The New Interpreter’s Bible, Volume IX. Abingdon Press, 1995.

Joe Carter. “9 Things You Should Know about the Prosperity Gospel” in The Gospel Coalition: Current Affairs, Sept. 2, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/9-things-prosperity-gospel/

Luke 4:21-30

²¹Then he began to say to them, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” ²²All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth. They said, “Is this not Joseph’s son?” ²³He said to them, “Doubtless you will quote to me this proverb, ‘Doctor, cure yourself!’ And you will say, ‘Do here also in your hometown the things that we have heard you did at Capernaum.’ ” ²⁴And he said, “Truly I tell you, no prophet is accepted in his hometown. ²⁵But the truth is, there were many widows in Israel in the time of Elijah, when the heaven was shut up three years and six months and there was a severe famine over all the land, ²⁶yet Elijah was sent to none of them except to a widow at Zarephath in Sidon. ²⁷There were also many with a skin disease in Israel in the time of the prophet Elisha, and none of them was cleansed except Naaman the Syrian.” ²⁸When they heard this, all in the synagogue were filled with rage. ²⁹They got up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff. ³⁰But he passed through the midst of them and went on his way.

Unity with Diversity

January 26, 2025 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Unity with Diversity” 1 Cor. 12:12-31a

Americans have long been at odds over the issue of immigration. Anti-immigration sentiment caused violence on the streets of New York City in the 1850s. Gang leader “Bill the Butcher” Poole formed the Know-Nothing Party to oppose immigration, particularly that of Irish Catholics. At their peak in 1855, the Know-Nothings claimed the allegiance of forty-three members of Congress. In 1853, “Bill the Butcher” died after being shot by gang (and political party) rival John Morrissey, who of course, was Irish Catholic.

In 1875, the country passed the Page Act to eliminate immigration of women from China in an effort to prevent the settlement of Chinese families in our country. Seven years later, in 1882, we implemented the Chinese Exclusion Act, which prevented the immigration of Chinese laborers for ten years. The ban was renewed in 1892, and in 1902, lawmakers decided to make it permanent. Anti-Chinese sentiment in the country was violent. In 1885, twenty-eight Chinese laborers were massacred by white miners in Rock Springs, Wyoming. Many of those Chinese workers were burned alive in their homes. Two years later, in 1887, thirty-four Chinese workers were beaten or shot to death in Hells Canyon on the Snake River.

During the Great Depression, from 1929 until 1939, we thought it would be a good idea to “repatriate” Mexican Americans, sending them south of the border to Mexico. One third of all Mexican Americans in the United States were repatriated, an estimated one to two million people. Forty to sixty percent of them were US citizens. The deportation effort was fueled in part by the words of President Herbert Hoover, who characterized Mexicans as “criminal aliens” who unfairly competed with true Americans for jobs and services.

A sad and shameful aspect of our country during World War II was the internment of Japanese Americans. Following the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, President Franklin Roosevelt issued Executive Order 9066 calling for all people of Japanese descent—anyone 1/16^th Japanese or more including US citizens, to be incarcerated in isolated camps. In March 1942, Army-directed removals began. Japanese-Americans were given six days to dispose of their belongings other than what they could carry and report to War Relocation Centers. More than 100,000 people were detained throughout the war, often in poor conditions with inadequate food or sanitation.

If our history tells us anything, it is that we have strong opinions about who belongs and who does not. Who we need and who we do not. We find it hard to welcome, accept, and trust our neighbors, especially if their religious convictions, language, appearance, customs, or skin color are different from our own. We have a hard time finding unity in our American diversity.

The Apostle Paul’s congregation in Corinth struggled to find unity in their diversity. Corinth was one of the most racially, ethnically, religiously, and economically diverse communities on the Mediterranean with residents from every corner of the Roman Empire. In the Corinthian church, there were factions and seemingly endless quarrels that threatened to split the assembly. They quarreled about whether it was better to have been evangelized by Paul or Apollos or Peter. They disputed which spiritual gifts were best. They couldn’t agree if it was appropriate to eat meat that had been purchased in pagan meat markets. They argued about whether people should wear head coverings in worship. They brought civil lawsuits against one another. They challenged Paul’s apostolic authority, questioning whether he had the right credentials to lead the church. They even fought about what we might presume would be their rite of greatest unity—the Lord’s Supper. Did they really have to wait for slaves to finish their household chores so that the whole church could partake together?

Paul’s purpose in writing to his Corinthian friends was to put an end to all the wrangling by reminding them of the unity they were called to in Christ. In today’s reading, Paul playfully painted the picture of a human body at war with itself: eye alienated from ear, ear at odds with nose, head dead set against feet, all those parts clamoring that they don’t want to belong to the same body. Paul pointedly reminded his Corinthian friends that every member, even the most vulnerable and least respectable, was a valuable part of the body. Indeed, when one member of the body was ailing, the whole body suffered. Anyone who has ever had a toothache or a back spasm can testify to that fact. Paul capped his argument by saying that his friends were members of a very particular body—Christ’s body. I’m certain that the Corinthians were grieved when they realized that their fractious and alienating behavior was wounding and tearing Christ, who had suffered so terribly on the cross for them.

Paul longed for the members of the Corinthian church to be in unity, to understand that all their spiritual gifts, ideas, and natural abilities were needed for the body to be whole. Indeed, their individual well-being depended upon the honoring and sharing of one another’s contributions. It was in coming together in all their differences that they would grow into God’s best hope for humanity. Paul envisioned that all those church members, working together under the direction of the Holy Spirit, could embody Jesus, could make Christ’s living presence known to their neighbors in Corinth. Imagine that—the healing, helping, wise, prophetic, prayerful Jesus walking the streets of the city! What a blessing!

If the immigration controversies that are presently swirling in our country teach us anything, it’s that we haven’t changed all that much as a nation. Anti-Irish gangs, the Chinese Exclusion Act, forced repatriation of Americans of Mexican descent, internment of Japanese-American citizens, this is part of who we are. I think we are all in agreement that we don’t want open borders and foreign criminals on our streets, any more than we want American criminals running our communities. But when we get right down to it, calls for mass deportation are an old screed, hauled out every few years to divide us, to pitch us into opposing camps, to find a scapegoat for our latest ill. We are just doing what we always do. That’s not my opinion; that’s our unfortunate history.

I’d like to think that we can do better. If the Apostle Paul were to pick up his pen this morning, he might remind us that what speaks to the church can speak to the nation. Those among us who are white Anglo-Saxon Protestants have need of our Irish Catholic brothers and sisters. And the Irish need the Chinese. The Chinese need their Mexican neighbors, just as the Mexican needs his Japanese acquaintance. Our efforts to deny, denigrate, and alienate one another are just as foolish as the eye saying, “Get rid of that ear.” Wholeness is found, not in our all being cut from the same cloth. Wholeness is found in knowing that we belong to one another. Wholeness flourishes when our spicy differences are accepted and stirred into this unfinished experiment in nationhood. Wholeness is found when there is unity that honors our diversity. When we dare to honor and accept others, Christ is embodied. He walks among us still.

There may be hope for us as a nation yet. Bias against the Irish is practically unheard of anymore, and let’s face it, on St. Patty’s Day, everyone is Irish. During World War II, China and the United States were allies, which led to the long-awaited repeal of the ban on Chinese immigration and naturalization. The passage of the Magnusson Act in 1943 allowed Chinese immigrants to apply for citizenship and register to vote. In 1976, President Gerald Ford officially repealed Executive Order 9066, which targeted Japanese-Americans. In 1988, Congress issued a formal apology and passed the Civil Liberties Act awarding $20,000 each to over 80,000 Japanese Americans as reparations for their internment. In 2005, the state of California apologized for the 1930’s Mexican Repatriation Program, for the fundamental violations of civil liberties and constitutional rights. In 2012, Los Angeles County also issued an apology and installed a memorial at the site of one of the city’s first immigration raids. Slowly, slowly, we grow. Slowly, slowly, we find healing for the body.

If I were to read for us Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians this morning, we would hear that Paul’s argument about the body of Christ was convincing. The Corinthians repented of their fractious ways. They found unity amid their diversity and a renewed zeal for the gospel that made Paul proud. May the same be said for us.

Resources

Frank L. Crouch. “Commentary on 1 Cor. 12:12-31a” in Preaching This Week, Jan. 26, 2025. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/third-sunday-after-epiphany-3/commentary-on-1-corinthians-1212-31a-

Brian Peterson. “Commentary on 1 Cor. 12:12-31a” in Preaching This Week, Jan. 24, 2016. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/third-sunday-after-epiphany-3/commentary-on-1-corinthians-1212-31a-3

Melanie A. Howard. “Commentary on 1 Cor. 12:12-31a” in Preaching This Week, Jan. 23, 2022. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/third-sunday-after-epiphany-3/commentary-on-1-corinthians-1212-31a-5

Michael A. Smith. “No, We Are Not More Divided Than Ever” in Midwest Political Science Association Blog, June 6, 2022. Accessed online at https://www.mpsanet.org/no-we-are-not-more-divided-than-ever/

Dennis Wagner. “Mexican Repatriation in the 1930s” in State of the Union History, Nov. 10, 2017. Accessed online at https://www.stateoftheunionhistory.com/2017/11/1930-herbert-hoover-mexican.html

History.com Staff. “Chinese Exclusion Act” in History, August 24, 2018. Accessed online at https://www.history.com/topics/immigration/chinese-exclusion-act-1882

Amanda Onion, Missy Sullivan, Matt Mullen and Christian Zapata. “Japanese Internment Camps” in History, April 17, 2024. Accessed online at https://www.history.com/topics/world-war-ii/japanese-american-relocation

1 Corinthians 12:12-31a

12 For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. 13 For in the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and we were all made to drink of one Spirit.

14 Indeed, the body does not consist of one member but of many. 15 If the foot would say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. 16 And if the ear would say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. 17 If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be? If the whole body were hearing, where would the sense of smell be? 18 But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. 19 If all were a single member, where would the body be? 20 As it is, there are many members yet one body. 21 The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.” 22 On the contrary, the members of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, 23 and those members of the body that we think less honorable we clothe with greater honor, and our less respectable members are treated with greater respect, 24 whereas our more respectable members do not need this. But God has so arranged the body, giving the greater honor to the inferior member, 25 that there may be no dissension within the body, but the members may have the same care for one another. 26 If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it.

27 Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it. 28 And God has appointed in the church first apostles, second prophets, third teachers, then deeds of power, then gifts of healing, forms of assistance, forms of leadership, various kinds of tongues. 29 Are all apostles? Are all prophets? Are all teachers? Do all work powerful deeds? 30 Do all possess gifts of healing? Do all speak in tongues? Do all interpret? 31 But strive for the greater gifts. And I will show you a still more excellent way.

To Carry the Gospel of Freedom

January 19, 2025 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “To Carry the Gospel of Freedom” Luke 4:16-21

On Easter Sunday 1963, Martin Luther King sat in a jail cell in Birmingham, Alabama. Dr. King had come to Birmingham at the request of the local Black community to call attention to their experience of injustice. Birmingham was known as the most segregated city in the nation. Local businesses blatantly displayed “whites only” signs, despite negotiations the prior summer to bring change. African Americans routinely experienced police brutality and injustice. The Commissioner of Public Safety was Theophilus Eugene “Bull” Connor, a white supremacist and ardent segregationist. Birmingham had even earned the nickname “Bombingham” because it had more unsolved bombings of Black churches and Black homes than any other community in the nation.

Dr. King didn’t preach a sermon that Easter Sunday. Instead, he wrote a public letter addressed to eight Alabama clergymen, who had published an appeal to the “Negroes” of their state, urging them to wait for change. With time on his hands and only God for a companion in his prison cell, Dr. King began to scribble his letter in the margins of the newspaper, he continued on scraps of paper smuggled to him by another Black inmate, and when he was finally able to see his attorney, he requisitioned his lawyer’s legal pad. The Letter from Birmingham Jail was a blueprint for non-violent direct action and a forceful defense of King’s protest campaign. It is now regarded as one of the greatest texts of the American civil rights movement, and it continues to inspire those who practice peaceful resistance in pursuit of justice.

Accused by white clergy of being an outside agitator come to Alabama to sow discontent, Dr. King argued in his letter that he had come to Birmingham because he was “compelled to carry the gospel of freedom,” just as Jesus carried the gospel from Nazareth to Jerusalem and the apostles carried the gospel to every corner of the Roman Empire. King was keenly aware of the interrelatedness of all communities, saying, “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere,” whatever affects one directly touches us all indirectly. He could not turn his back on the people of Birmingham any more than Jesus could fail to confront the oppressive powers of his day.

Our reading from Luke’s gospel grants us a glimpse of Jesus in the early days of his ministry, sharing his gospel of freedom with his hometown crowd in Nazareth. Unrolling the scroll of Isaiah, Jesus found the spot where the prophet had written,

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,

because he has anointed me

to bring good news to the poor.

He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives

and recovery of sight to the blind,

to set free those who are oppressed.”

Next, Jesus sat down, as any first century rabbi would, to interpret the words of the Prophet Isaiah for the people of Nazareth.

When I’m teaching confirmation students about mission, we read this passage. I ask the learners, “Why this reading from Isaiah 61?” There are, after all, sixty-six chapters in Isaiah’s work, but Jesus deliberately chose to read this one. I suggest to the kids that this is Jesus’ mission statement. There in his hometown as he launched his public ministry, Jesus wanted people to know who he truly was and what God called him to do. In fact, as we continue to read Luke’s gospel, its one long revelation of how Jesus would pursue his mission by identifying with the poor and lowly, feeding the hungry, healing every sort of infirmity, setting folks free from the burdens of sin and death, confronting the oppressive powers of Temple and empire, and proving God’s great love for all people on the cross. Jesus saw his mission as a holy purpose for all people. In his parting words to his friends, he exhorted them to take his good news to all nations, so that God’s love and freedom might flourish among all people.

The great 16^th century Protestant Reformer Martin Luther taught that the good news is often bad news (kakevangelium) before it is good news. In other words, Jesus’ mission to bring good news to the poor, presumes the reality of poverty. And the desire to bring release to captives points to people who are unfairly treated in the court of justice. Recovery of sight to the blind reveals the failures and shortcomings of traditional healing and the costliness that puts good medical care beyond the grasp of some. Setting the oppressed free presumes the reality of oppressors, the few who exploit power to dominate and control the vulnerable. The good news is bad news. It unmasks the sin of our world as we know it. And yet, even as we face the bad news head on, we trust that God is with us in the pursuit of love and justice, and with God, victory is certain. The good news is bad news before it is good news.

In his Letter from Birmingham Jail, Dr. King expressed his disappointment not only with the clergy who urged Black Americans to wait for their oppressors to grant them liberation, but also with the “white church.” Rev. King had anticipated that his fellow Christians would be on the frontlines with their Black neighbors in pursuit of good news to the poor, release for captives, and freedom from oppression. He lamented white churches that were more devoted to order than justice, who felt entitled to paternalistically set a time table for someone else’s freedom. King cautioned that, one day, society would need to repent of the appalling silence of “good people” as much as it did of the hateful words and actions of “bad” people. King’s peaceful demonstration in Birmingham had not created the hurtful, harmful division of Black and white. He had merely brought to the surface tensions that had long existed in Birmingham and the nation. King’s gospel of freedom had to be bad news for the status quo before it could be good news for all God’s people.

Jesus’ sermon in Nazareth and Dr. King’s Letter from Birmingham Jail continue to invite faithful people to join our purpose to God’s purpose and carry the gospel of freedom into the world. It’s a particular challenge for the white mainline church because it confronts us with the sins of our society and may even point to how we have unwittingly been complicit. One of the ways that we carry that challenging gospel of freedom is through the Presbyterian Peacemaking Program, which seeks wholeness for the global community by addressing poverty, violence, racism, climate change, and the crisis in immigration. Let me tell you about two innovative ministries that our donations have supported.

The first initiative is Loads of Love, which seeks to fulfill Jesus’ purpose of good news to the poor. It began with a woman named Linda, who was living with stage-4 cancer when she confessed to her pastor that she could no longer handle the laundry—the sheer volume of blankets and bedding caused by her illness. Financially strapped and already living on the edge, the expense of using coin-operated washers and driers was driving Linda’s family deeper into poverty. Linda’s predicament prompted her Presbytery to launch Loads of Love, which teams struggling families with local volunteers who can help. Rev. Carol Vickery says that her church’s laundry outreach has put them in touch with a world whose hardships they were unaware of. It comes as a shock (bad news) for people to realize how costly doing laundry can be and to know that people can’t use their SNAP benefits to buy detergent, cleaning supplies, or personal hygiene items. Loads of Love brings the good news of caring and dignity to struggling neighbors.

A second initiative is the vision of Joseph Russ, a Presbyterian Mission Worker in El Salvador, who has been instrumental in establishing a network of more than 50 churches, governmental agencies, and non-profits in the US and Central America that are seeking to alleviate the concerns of the immigration crisis. In 2014 when Russ went to El Salvador as a young adult, nearly 70,000 unaccompanied minors were turned away at the US-Mexico border. Many of those kids ended up in El Salvador, which was unable to handle the humanitarian crisis (bad news). Joseph and his partners in the International Red Cross now run a shelter program for internally displaced people and returnees with no place to go. The shelter reduces people’s exposure to violence and poverty and helps them find stability amid difficult and dangerous situations. The organization also seeks to address the root causes of poverty and violence in Central America that precipitate mass migration.

Our gifts to Presbyterian Peacemaking are one of the ways that we join our mission to Jesus’ and further the vision he set forth in that first sermon in Nazareth.

Four months after Dr. King wrote his Letter from Birmingham Jail, he was joined by 250,000 supporters in the March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom. Dr. King spoke last at the rally, his voice faltering and his way unclear until Ralph Abernethy shouted out, “Martin tell them about the dream.” The eloquent words that followed have long inspired us to pursue the beautiful kingdom where people of all races may come to the table of peace, freedom, and opportunity. After the march, the speakers travelled to the White House for a brief discussion with President Kennedy, who felt the day was a victory for him as well—bolstering the chances for the passage of his civil rights bill. The following February, The Civil Rights Act of 1964 was made the law of the land, despite the President’s assassination in November and a 72-day Senate filibuster. The act prohibited discrimination based on race, color, religion, sex, or national origin. It ended segregation in public schools, public accommodations, and federally funded programs. It ended unequal application of voter registration requirements and put an end to Jim Crow laws. The act also established the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC).

I suspect that if Jesus and Dr. King were with us this morning, they would tell us that the gospel of freedom remains but a dream for some, especially in all the hurting and broken places of our nation and our world where faithful people prefer order to justice and the bad news prevails. May we dare to go forth with the gospel of freedom.

Resources

Scott O’Neill. “New PC(USA) mission network launches this week” in Presbyterian News Service, March 18, 2024. Accessed online at https://www.pcusa.org/news-storytelling/news/new-pcusa-mission-network-launches-week

Presbyterian Peacemaking. PEACE & GLOBAL WITNESS Leaders Guide, 2024. Accessed online at https://pcusa.org/sites/default/files/2024-11/PGW24%20Leaders%20Guide.pdf

David S. Jacobsen. “Commentary on John 4:16-21” in Preaching This Week, Jan. 27, 2019. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/third-sunday-after-epiphany-3/commentary-on-luke-414-21-4

Karoline Lewis. “Commentary on John 4:16-21” in Preaching This Week, Jan. 27, 2013. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/third-sunday-after-epiphany-3/commentary-on-luke-414-21

Martin Luther King, Jr. Why We Can’t Wait. New York: Penguin Putnam, 1963, 1964.

Luke 4:14-21

14 Then Jesus, in the power of the Spirit, returned to Galilee, and a report about him spread through all the surrounding region. 15 He began to teach in their synagogues and was praised by everyone. 16 When he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the Sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, 17 and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written:

18 “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to set free those who are oppressed,
19 to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

20 And he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant, and sat down. The eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on him. 21 Then he began to say to them, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.”

Image source: https://www.cnn.com/2013/04/16/us/king-birmingham-jail-letter-anniversary/index.html

God’s Wide Welcome

January 12, 2025 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “God’s Wide Welcome” Acts 8:4-8, 12, 14-17

On Thursday, the nation said goodbye to our 39^th President, Jimmy Carter. The Carter Family was joined at the National Cathedral in Washington by the five living Presidents and dignitaries from around the world. The former peanut farmer and Navy nuclear engineer had started small, serving on the local school board and in the state legislature before rising to national prominence as the Georgia governor. When the shadow of Watergate left Americans disillusioned with Washington insiders, we turned to Carter, the deeply ethical outsider, to reorient our political landscape.

The diplomatic highlight of Jimmy Carter’s presidency was his effort to achieve peace between Israel and Egypt. In twelve days of secret negotiations at Camp David in September 1978, Carter met with Israeli Prime Minister Menachim Begin and Egyptian President Anwar Sedat. The terms reached between the two nations, called the Camp David Accords, laid the groundwork for the Egypt-Israel Peace Treaty, which Carter witnessed in Washington the following March. The treaty notably made Egypt the first Arab country to officially recognize Israel. More than forty-five years later, the peace agreement between Egypt and Israel is still in effect.

Carter’s initiative in seeking peace was prompted, in part, by his faith. A staunch Christian, Carter saw in Begin and Sadat his brothers, all sons of a common ancestor, the biblical patriarch Abraham. If only their divides could be bridged, the world would be blessed by their kinship, and there would be hope for Middle East peace. Newspapers captured that beautiful promise of peace in a remarkable photo after the signing of the treaty. Begin, Carter, and Sadat stand facing one another, their hands extended to clasp across the circle, kind of like a Little League Team prepping for the big game with a hand sandwich and the cry, “Go team!” The joy on the three men’s faces is still palpable across the years.

When the evangelist Philip went down to Samaria, he may have felt a little like Jimmy Carter trying to bring Arabs and Israelis to the table of peace. When persecution against the early church surged in Jerusalem, Philip and his friends were forced to flee the city and seek another place to share their gospel. By any stretch of the imagination, though, Samaria was an unlikely location to start. Samaritans and Jews had been at odds for centuries. It had started more than a thousand years before when the Hebrew people split into the northern Kingdom of Israel and the southern kingdom of Judah. Samaritans traced their ancestry to the north while Jews looked to south. Both nations worshiped Yahweh and observed the teachings of the Torah, but the Samaritans worshiped God on their holy mountain Gerizim while the Jews believed that God could only be worshiped in the Temple in Jerusalem.

Relations between the neighbors hit a low point during the rule of the Maccabees. In the year 110BCE, the troops of the Jewish King and High Priest John Hyrcanus invaded Samaria, ascended Mt. Gerizim, and destroyed the Samaritan Temple. Later, around the time Jesus was born, Samaritans sneaked into the Jerusalem Temple and scattered human bones, desecrating the space. By the time of Jesus’ ministry, if you wanted to really insult someone, you would call them a Samaritan. That’s what Jesus’ opponents did in John 8:48, saying to the Lord, “You are a Samaritan and have a demon!” That’s some serious biblical trash talk.

Philip the evangelist must have been surprisingly openminded and wildly hopeful to want to test the Samaritan waters. Yet as he shared the good news of God’s love for all people, a love that was revealed in Jesus, something remarkable happened. The Book of Acts tells us that there was healing and joy. The dividing line between Jew and Samaritan vanished. Enemies became friends. Jewish and Samaritan sons and daughters of Abraham, who had long been estranged, found common ground. In the waters of baptism, they became a new sort of family, brothers and sisters, whose eyes had been opened to see that God’s love is big enough to welcome Jews and Samaritans. When the apostles in Jerusalem heard about it, they couldn’t believe it. They had to send Peter and John on a snoop mission to check it out. As the apostles laid hands upon the Samaritans and prayed, the Holy Spirit confirmed that the impossible was true. In Jesus Christ, all divisions had come to an end. Alleluia!

Our world continues to struggle with the sort of deep-seated division that plagued the Jews and Samaritans. We see it on the international stage, where Israeli bombs fall on Gaza and Lebanon, and Hezbollah and Houthi rockets seek to break through Israel’s Iron Dome. We see it in Ukraine, where this week Russian missiles killed at least 13 civilians in the southern city of Zaporizhzhia, and an increasingly beleaguered Ukrainian military lobs longer range rockets into Russia.

We see those deep-seated divisions on our national stage as we characterize one another as red states and blue states, and we have a hard time listening to our differing perspectives. We see it as those who are generational Americans look with suspicion on immigrants, questioning their work ethic, their values, and even their diets.

We have known deep-seated divisions in our personal lives. We like to put a lot of emotional and physical distance between ourselves and those who hurt us. We don’t like to hang out with folks when we find that their core beliefs are different from our own. We tend to avoid those who look different, whether they are covered with a landscape of tattoos or punctuated by multiple piercings, sporting the shaved head and jackboots of the neo-Nazi or wearing the bling-bling of the HipHop gangsta’.

The dividing lines are everywhere. Maintaining them is easy. We don’t have to destroy any sacred sites or scatter any bones to keep the walls up. All we have to do is accept the divisive narrative that is handed to us. All we have to do is harden our hearts and perpetuate the status quo. All we have to do is wash our hands of personal responsibility and forge a world of us and them.

I suspect that the reason that Philip could bridge the divide with the Samaritans was because Jesus did it first. When a Samaritan village refused to welcome Jesus, the disciples implored the Lord to call down fire from heaven to obliterate the community, but Jesus wouldn’t do it. Instead, as we read the gospels, we find Jesus healing a thankful Samaritan leper (Luke 17), offering the water of life to a marginal Samaritan woman (John 4), and shocking everybody by casting the hero of his most beloved parable as a Good Samaritan (Luke 10). Jesus, in his longing to restore the lost sheep of Israel, held out hope for the Samaritans. Perhaps he knew that through a shared trust in him the thousand-year divide between Jew and Samaritan could come to an end. Philip saw that, too. His willingness to step out in the footsteps of Jesus made a world-altering difference.

Jesus is always out ahead of us, my friends, bridging the divides. The question for those of us who call Jesus Lord is, “Do we have the courage to follow him?”

Our scripture reading today suggests that we can. If Philip could go to the Samaritans, if Jimmy Carter could prevail with Israel and Egypt, there is hope for us yet. God’s love is big enough for Jews and Samaritans. God’s love is big enough for Israel and Hezbollah, Russia and Ukraine, red states and blue states, native born and immigrant. God’s love is wide enough to overcome all those deep-seated divisions that mar our own lives. The enemy can become an ally. The differences can be overcome. The hurt can be healed. The stranger may even become a friend. But it won’t happen unless we take the risk: to step out in faith, trusting that Jesus is already there. Are you with Jesus? Are you with me?

At the Carter funeral on Thursday, Steve Ford, the son of former President Gerald Ford, was an unexpected eulogist. Jimmy Carter defeated Gerald Ford in the 1976 presidential election. Their political differences and the outcome of the election should have put an end to the relationship between the two men. It didn’t. In 1981, after Carter’s term in office had ended, Jimmy and Gerald traveled together to attend the funeral of assassinated Egyptian President Anwar Sadat. The two men bonded during the long plane trips, and their professional relationship grew into an enduring friendship. They were both Navy men, had three sons, and a strong faith that Ford was quieter about than Carter was. After that, Jimmy and Gerald spoke regularly, teamed up as co-leaders on dozens of projects, and decided together which events they’d attend and skip in tandem.

The two men made a pact: whoever lived the longest would speak at the other’s funeral. Carter kept his end of the bargain at Ford’s funeral in 2007. On Thursday, from beyond the grave, as Steve Ford read his father’s eulogy for his friend Jimmy, Gerald Ford kept his. Ford spoke about their ability to bridge the divide that once had separated them, saying, “According to a map, it’s a long way between Grand Rapids, Michigan and Plains, Georgia. But distances have a way of vanishing when measured in values rather than miles, and it was because of our shared values that Jimmy and I respected each other as adversaries even before we cherished one another as dear friends.”

May we, too, go forth to follow Jesus, Philip, Jimmy, and Gerald. Let us go forth to bridge those divides.

Resources

Jimmy Carter. The Blood of Abraham. University of Arkansas Press, 1985 (3^rd ed. 2007).

Kayla Epstein. “In pictures: Handshakes, smiles and stares as five presidents meet at Carter’s funeral” in BBC News, January 9, 2025. Accessed online at https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/czjdjz3pdd0o.

Calvin Woodward. “Jimmy Carter had little use for the presidents club but formed a friendship for the ages with Ford” in The Associated Press, January 6, 2025. Accessed online at https://www.ap.org/news-highlights/spotlights/2025/jimmy-carter-had-little-use-for-the-presidents-club-but-formed-a-friendship-for-the-ages-with-ford/

Robert W. Wall. “Acts” in The New Interpreter’s Bible, vol. X. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2002.

Pat McCloskey. “The Rift between Jews and Samaritans” in Ask a Franciscan, May 16, 2020. Accessed online at www.franciscanmedia.org

William Willimon. Acts, Interpretation Bible Commentary. Atlanta: John Knox Press, 1988.

Acts 8:4-8, 12, 14-17

⁴Now those who were scattered went from place to place proclaiming the word. ⁵Philip went down to the city of Samaria and proclaimed the Messiah to them. ⁶The crowds with one accord listened eagerly to what was said by Philip, hearing and seeing the signs that he did, ⁷for unclean spirits, crying with loud shrieks, came out of many who were possessed, and many others who were paralyzed or lame were cured. ⁸So there was great joy in that city.

¹²But when they believed Philip, who was proclaiming the good news about the kingdom of God and the name of Jesus Christ, they were baptized, both men and women.

14 Now when the apostles at Jerusalem heard that Samaria had accepted the word of God, they sent Peter and John to them. 15 The two went down and prayed for them that they might receive the Holy Spirit 16 (for as yet the Spirit had not come[c] upon any of them; they had only been baptized in the name of the Lord Jesus). 17 Then Peter and John[d] laid their hands on them, and they received the Holy Spirit.

Photo credit: https://www.britannica.com/event/Camp-David-Accords#/media/1/91061/9162

The Light Shines in the Darkness

January 5, 2025 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The Light Shines in the Darkness” John 1:1-18

This is Epiphany Sunday. Things are beginning to look a little less Christmassy around here. The Advent wreath with its Christmas Eve Christ Candle has been returned to its hiding place in the church basement. The wise men have arrived at the nativity set, but this week, they, along with the shepherd, Mary, Joseph, and the baby Jesus, will be wrapped up and boxed away. This is the last Sunday for our poinsettia tree in front of the Lord’s Table, so if you would like to take a plant out to bless someone in need of a little extra love, please do. Soon, the sanctuary greens will come down and the gingerbread houses in the Great Hall will be destined for the trash.

Our Christmas clean-ups are underway at home, too. All the company has gone. Lights and ornaments are being stripped from trees. Mom’s recipe for Christmas trifle has returned to the file box. Those Christmas gifts that didn’t quite fit have been returned or exchanged. The inflatable Santa has gone flaccid on the front lawn. It always feels a little sad, overfed, and wistful as we let go of that most festive of seasons and settle into the long winter’s darkness.

Our gospel reading this morning, also turns away from Christmas. We leave behind the birth stories that launch Matthew and Luke. Instead, we hear the first words of John, who makes an unusual beginning to his gospel. The Bible scholars refer to this morning’s reading as a prologue, a song, or a poem. No matter what you call it, John is definitely different. We meet Jesus, not as a holy infant so tender and mild, but as the eternal Word of God, wrapped in flesh, sent into the world to be life and light for all people.

John’s words sound mystical and magical to us, but John’s first century listeners would have felt at home with the gospel writer’s poetic flight of fancy. For Gentiles, John’s first words “In the beginning” (en Arche) would have spoken to the Greek philosophical belief that an organizing principle or word was the clue that held the universe together. For the Jews, John’s first words, “In the beginning” would have evoked the very first words of the Torah, Genesis 1:1, “In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth.” Gail O’Day, who wrote the book on John for the New Interpreter’s Bible, argues that today’s reading is John’s act of Midrash, a rabbinic teaching that casts the coming of Jesus as a continuation of God’s great work of creation.

It makes sense. In Genesis 1:3-5, God’s begins creation with the words, “Let there be light.” Then, God sees that the light is good and separates the light from the darkness. Centuries after the Torah was compiled, John casts Jesus as that creative Word and original light, saying, “What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overtake it.” John’s midrash twist on the creation is that in Jesus, who is the Word, God chose to become flesh and enter into the darkness of our world.

There was plenty of darkness in John’s day. John’s homeland was an occupied territory, a vassal state of the Roman Empire. Most people lived in poverty while contending with imperial taxes. A failed crop meant hunger or even a turn as a debt slave. Illness and disability were often untreatable and could leave you labeled as “unclean” and unwelcome in the synagogue or Temple. Even the religious life of the people had become oppressive, with Temple taxes to pay and Roman appointed elite priests running the show. John’s community was so persecuted that they were forced to flee Israel for sanctuary on the far side of the Mediterranean, in what is now western Turkie.

We are no strangers to darkness. We know the darkness of violence: the interminable war in Ukraine and the ongoing slaughter of Gaza; the unthinkable acts of New Year’s terror in New Orleans and Las Vegas; women who are not safe in their homes and children who are bullied at school.

We know the darkness of poverty and income inequality: children who depend on school lunches for their only hot meal of the day, two-income families who still cannot make ends meet, households that depend upon the Food Pantry or Grace Pantry, neighbors bankrupted by surgery or a lengthy stay in the hospital.

We know personal darkness: the grief that weighs us down, the family members who are estranged, the illness we can’t shake, the addiction that plagues us or our beloved ones. We feel alone in the dark, far from help and far from God.

The late Rev. Bob Woods once shared a story about a long-ago family road trip to Carlsbad Caverns National Park in New Mexico when his son and daughter were quite young. If you haven’t been there, the caverns are hidden beneath the Chihuahuan Desert, where more than 119 caves were formed when sulfuric acid dissolved the limestone. The caverns are spectacular, eerie, and populated by about 400,000 bats. Down into the caverns, the Woods family walked, guided by a park ranger. At the deepest point, the ranger turned off the light to demonstrate just how dark darkness can be. The little boy began to cry, frightened by the darkness, but his sister comforted him, “Don’t cry. Someone here knows how to turn the lights on.” The little boy felt better, the lights came back on, and the tour continued.

John’s poetic start to his gospel is a lot like those words of encouragement that the big sister spoke to her frightened little brother. Not only does someone know how to turn on the lights, someone has. Jesus has entered our world to shine light in the darkness. Jesus, the Word become flesh, reminds us that we can face the darkness because God is in it with us, shining light that can sustain us, shining light that cannot be overcome. Thanks be to God.

On this second Sunday after Christmas, we who have received Jesus, who trust in his name, who have become children of God, we have a mission. In Jesus, light shines in the darkness, and we are called to be bearers of that light. We are called to reach out to a world that waits in darkness with the good news that we are not alone and darkness does not have the final word.

If we are looking to shine light in the world’s darkness, we have come to the right place. When we bring our food offerings to the pack basket at the side entrance, lace up our sneakers for the CROP Walk, and collect cans of soup and dollars for the Souper Bowl of Caring, light shines in the darkness.

When we grow fresh, healthy produce in our Jubilee Garden, host a free farm stand at the food pantry, and bless our neighbors with bouquets of beautiful flowers, light shines in the darkness.

When we welcome children, teach Sunday School, host Parent’s Night Out, or have fun with the Youth Group, light shines in the darkness.

When we welcome refugees, visit folks who are homebound, and bless neighbors in crisis with the deacons’ fund, light shines in the darkness.

We shine light, trusting that God is more than a match for this world’s darkness.

This week, our Christmas clean-up will continue. Even those of us who wish we could keep the tree forever will be forced by the scourge of falling needles to give it the old heave-ho. We’ll clean out the refrigerator, parting with the last vestiges of our holiday feasts. We’ll step on the scale and decide that we really should try a little New Years restraint. We’ll say goodbye to Christmas, at least for now. But let’s hold on to the light. Shine, my friends, shine.

Resources

Karyn Wiseman. “Commentary on John 1:1-18” in Preaching This Week, Jan. 5, 2014. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/second-sunday-of-christmas/commentary-on-john-11-9-10-18-4

Cornelius Platinga. “Theological Perspective on John 1:1-18” in Feasting on the Gospels: John vol. 1. Westminster John Knox Press, 2015.

Philip D. Jamieson. “Pastoral Perspective on John 1:1-18” in Feasting on the Gospels: John vol. 1. Westminster John Knox Press, 2015.

Gail R. O’Day. “Exegetical Perspective on John 1:1-18” in Feasting on the Gospels: John vol. 1. Westminster John Knox Press, 2015.

John 1:1-18

1 In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. ²He was in the beginning with God. ³All things came into being through him, and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being ⁴in him was life, and the life was the light of all people. ⁵The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overtake it.

⁶There was a man sent from God whose name was John. ⁷He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. ⁸He himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. ⁹The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world^.

¹⁰He was in the world, and the world came into being through him, yet the world did not know him. ¹¹He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. ¹²But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, ¹³who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of man, but of God.

¹⁴And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth. ¹⁵(John testified to him and cried out, “This was he of whom I said, ‘He who comes after me ranks ahead of me because he was before me.’”) ¹⁶From his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace. ¹⁷The law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ. ¹⁸No one has ever seen God. It is the only Son, himself God, who^[f] is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known.

Poems for the Season of Christmas

January 2, 2025 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — Verse for the First Sunday in Christmas

“O Lord, You Were Born”

— Ann Weems

Each year about this time I try to be sophisticated

and pretend I understand the bored expressions

relating to the “Christmas spirit.”

I nod when they say “Put the Christ back in Christmas.”

I say yes, yes, when they shout “Commercial” and

“Hectic, hectic, hectic.”

After all, I’m getting older,

and I’ve heard it said, “Christmas is for children.”

But somehow a fa-la-la keeps creeping out….

So I’ll say it:

I love Christmas tinsel

and angel voices that come from the beds upstairs

and the Salvation Army bucket

and all the wrappings and festivities and special warm feelings.

I say it is good,

giving,

praising,

celebrating.

So hooray for Christmas trees

and candlelight

and the good old church pageant.

Hooray for shepherd boys who forget their lines

and Wise Men whose beards fall off

and Mary who giggles.

O Lord, you were born!

And that breaks in upon my ordered life like bugles blaring.

and I sing “Hark, the Herald Angels”

in the most unlikely places.

You were born

and I will celebrate!

I rejoice for the carnival of Christmas!

I clap for the pajama-clad cherubs

and the Christmas cards jammed in the mail slot.

I o-o-o-oh for the turkey

and ah-h-h-h for the Christmas pudding

and thank God for the alleluias I see in the faces of people

I don’t know

and yet know very well.

O Lord, there just aren’t enough choirboys to sing what I feel.

There aren’t enough trumpets to blow.

O Lord, I want bells to peal!

I want to dance in the streets of Bethlehem!

I want to sing with the heavenly host!

For unto us a Son was given

and he was called God with Us.

For those of us who believe,

the whole world is decorated in love!

“Christmas at Sea”

—Robert Louis Stevenson

The sheets were frozen hard, and they cut the naked hand;

The decks were like a slide, where a seaman scarce could stand;

The wind was a nor’wester, blowing squally off the sea;

And cliffs and spouting breakers were the only things a-lee.

They heard the surf a-roaring before the break of day;

But ’twas only with the peep of light we saw how ill we lay.

We tumbled every hand on deck instanter, with a shout,

And we gave her the maintops’l, and stood by to go about.

All day we tacked and tacked between the South Head and the North;

All day we hauled the frozen sheets, and got no further forth;

All day as cold as charity, in bitter pain and dread,

For very life and nature we tacked from head to head.

We gave the South a wider berth, for there the tide-race roared;

But every tack we made we brought the North Head close aboard:

So’s we saw the cliffs and houses, and the breakers running high,

And the coastguard in his garden, with his glass against his eye.

The frost was on the village roofs as white as ocean foam;

The good red fires were burning bright in every ‘long-shore home;

The windows sparkled clear, and the chimneys volleyed out;

And I vow we sniffed the victuals as the vessel went about.

The bells upon the church were rung with a mighty jovial cheer;

For it’s just that I should tell you how (of all days in the year)

This day of our adversity was blessed Christmas morn,

And the house above the coastguard’s was the house where I was born.

O well I saw the pleasant room, the pleasant faces there,

My mother’s silver spectacles, my father’s silver hair;

And well I saw the firelight, like a flight of homely elves,

Go dancing round the china-plates that stand upon the shelves.

And well I knew the talk they had, the talk that was of me,

Of the shadow on the household and the son that went to sea;

And O the wicked fool I seemed, in every kind of way,

To be here and hauling frozen ropes on blessed Christmas Day.

They lit the high sea-light, and the dark began to fall.

“All hands to loose topgallant sails,” I heard the captain call.

“By the Lord, she’ll never stand it,” our first mate Jackson, cried.

…”It’s the one way or the other, Mr. Jackson,” he replied.

She staggered to her bearings, but the sails were new and good,

And the ship smelt up to windward just as though she understood.

As the winter’s day was ending, in the entry of the night,

We cleared the weary headland, and passed below the light.

And they heaved a mighty breath, every soul on board but me,

As they saw her nose again pointing handsome out to sea;

But all that I could think of, in the darkness and the cold,

Was just that I was leaving home and my folks were growing old.

“The Sheep Herd”

—Sister Mariella

I am a shepherd—I have hated

The smell of damp sheep in the rain,

The pain

Of clouted shoes on weary feet,

The silly barking of watchdogs in the night,

The blinding light

Of summer suns on hillsides without shade.

Nor anything I did not wish was not

From hoar-frost on the meadow grass

To dizzy stars that blinked on stupidly and bright.

Last night

I went with other men who tended sheep

Over to Bethlehem to see—

We did not know just what we’d come to see

Who’d followed up a cloud of singing wings.

Until we came to where a young girl held

A little baby on her lap and smiled.

She made me think of flowers,

White flowers on long stems and blue night skies.

Nothing happened—

But today

I have been shaken with the joy

Of seeing hoar-frost wings

Atilt upon tall grasses; the sun

Upon the sheep, making their gray backs white

And silvery

Has hurt me with its beauty, and I heard

The sound of the barking watchdogs break

The tolling bells against the quiet hills.

“Boxed”

—Ann Weems

I must admit to a certain guilt

about stuffing the Holy Family into a box

in the aftermath of Christmas.

It’s frankly a time of personal triumph when,

each Advent’s eve, I free them (and the others)

from a year’s imprisonment

boxed in the dark of our basement.

Out they come, one by one,

struggling through the straw,

last year’s tinsel still clinging to their robes.

Nevertheless, they appear,

ready to take their place again

in the light of another Christmas.

The Child is first

because he’s the one I’m most reluctant to box.

Attached forever to his cradle, he emerges,

apparently unscathed from the time spent upside down

to avoid the crush of the lid.

His mother, dressed eternally in blue,

still gazes adoringly,

in spite of the fact that

her features are somewhat smudged.

Joseph has stood for eleven months,

holding valiantly what’s left of his staff,

broken twenty Christmases ago

by a child who hugged a little too tightly.

The Wise Ones still travel,

though not quite so elegantly,

the standing camel having lost its back leg

and the sitting camel having lost one ear.

However, gifts intact, they are ready to move.

The shepherds, walking or kneeling,

sometimes confused with Joseph

(who wears the same dull brown),

tumble forth, followed by three sheep

in very bad repair.

There they are again,

not a grand set surely,

but one the children (and now the grandchildren)

can touch and move about to reenact that silent night.

When the others return,

we will wind the music box on the back of the stable

and light the Advent candles

and go once more to Bethlehem.

And this year, when it’s time to pack the figures away,

we’ll be more careful that the Peace and Goodwill

are not also boxed for another year!

Ann Barr Weems was the daughter or a Presbyterian minister and the wife of a Presbyterian minister. She served as an elder with the Trinity Presbyterian Church in St. Louis. Ann was a noted writer, speaker, liturgist and worship leader. Among her seven published books or collections of poems, meant to be used in worship, in personal devotions, and in discussions, are Kneeling in Jerusalem, Kneeling in Bethlehem and the best-selling Psalms of Lament. She is also the author of the critically-acclaimed poem, “Balloons Belong in Church,” about her then four-year old son, Todd, who brought an orange balloon with pink stripes to church school one Sunday morning. Both poems shared here are from Kneeling in Bethlehem.

Robert Louis Stevenson was a Scottish novelist, essayist, poet, and travel writer. He spent time in Saranac Lake in pursuit of a cold air cure for tuberculosis. Lighthouse design was the family’s profession; Robert’s grandfather and uncles were all in the same field. His maternal grandfather, with whom he was quite close, was a Presbyterian minister. Stevenson once wrote, “Now I often wonder what I inherited from this old minister. I must suppose, indeed, that he was fond of preaching sermons, and so am I, though I never heard it maintained that either of us loved to hear them. Stevenson’s Christmas poem was first published in the Scots Observer, 1888.

Sister Mariella Gable was a Benedictine sister and an English professor at the College of Saint Benedict from 1928-73. She was also a Dante scholar, poet, editor and writer. She tirelessly promoted the cause of two then little-known authors, Flannery O’Connor and J.F. Powers, and introduced audiences in the United States to such Irish writers as Frank O’Connor, Sean O’Faolain, Mary Lavin, and Bryan MacMahon through her many essays and anthologies. “The Sheep Herd” was first published in 1946.

Joann White

writer, pastor, spiritual director, and enthusiast of wild places

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