Lord, Teach Us to Pray

March 23, 2025 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Lord Teach Us to Pray” Luke 11:1-13

Although prayer is at the heart of who we are as faithful people, many of us struggle with prayer. When asked to pray with others, we feel inadequate. We don’t have the right words, we feel unworthy, or we are embarrassed to use our prayer voice out loud. Early on in my ministry, I saw a look of abject terror cross the face of a gifted elder and lay leader when I asked him if he would close a committee meeting in prayer. Once he got over the shock of my invitation, he gently informed me that at that church they didn’t pray. They closed their meetings with the Mizpah Blessing from Genesis, “May the Lord watch between me and Thee while we are absent one from another.”

Even if we have the right words for prayer, we often battle the twin troubles of busyness and weariness. We live mile-a-minute lives from early morning to late at night. We begin the day with the intention of making time for prayer, but our agenda gets hijacked: by work and meetings; by taxiing kids and attending athletic events, concerts, and dance recitals; by doctor’s appointments and civic commitments; by the daily routine of cooking, cleaning, and home repair; by the chatter of television and social media. As the day ends, we find ourselves falling fast asleep before we can even make it through the Lord’s Prayer.

Sometimes, we give up on prayer out of disappointment or frustration. We have worn ourselves out in pursuit of prayers that seem unanswered. God doesn’t grant us what we long for: a miracle healing for our loved one, a cure for the addiction for our adult child, a change in our spouse, an end to war or hunger or gun violence. Weary and worn, we lament, “What’s the point of praying when it feels like God is silent or unwilling to provide what we want when we want it.”

I suspect Jesus’ disciples felt a lot like we do. They were fishermen, farmers, tax collectors, and tradesmen. Not one of them was a prayer professional, like the priests, scribes, and Pharisees, who were known for public prayers. The disciples lived in a time when personal piety was reflected in daily prayer. The Prophet Daniel, who lived during the exile in Babylon, prayed three times daily: morning, evening, and at the ninth hour—that’s three o’clock in the afternoon—when sacrifice was offered in the Temple in Jerusalem. The first century Jewish historian Josephus reported that the Hebrew people offered prayer twice daily—in the morning and evening to “bear witness to God for the gifts given when God delivered them from the land of the Egyptians.” First century Jewish prayer offered thanksgiving for what had happened and thanksgiving for what would be, trusting in the goodness and faithfulness of God. Rabbis, like John the Baptist, often taught their disciples to pray. It’s no wonder that Jesus’ followers turned to him with the heartfelt request, “Lord, teach us to pray.”

Perhaps what is most surprising about what Jesus had to say about prayer is how very simple it is. In Luke’s gospel, the Lord’s Prayer is four terse sentences. Jesus tells us to begin by thinking of God as a familiar and loving parent, “Father,” whose name was sacred and worthy of reverence and blessing, “Hallowed be thy name.” Next, we express our longing for the fulfillment of scripture and the coming of God’s kingdom, “Thy Kingdom come.” Then, we pray three simple requests for what we truly need to be whole and healthy: sustenance to fuel our bodies and provide for our lives, the healing of relationships through forgiveness and a willingness to be forgiven, and lastly, protection from life’s trials and difficulties. According to Jesus, all we really need to pray are four simple heartfelt sentences that envision God as the source of our world, our lives, our healing, and our protection. That’s it.

Jesus followed his prayer with two example stories to encourage us to pray. The story of the friend who comes knocking at midnight exhorts us to pray shamelessly, whenever we need to. The example of a good parent, who lovingly provides good things for a child, reminds us that God longs to provide what is good and right for us—and God knows exactly what that may be.

In the first centuries of the church, Christians followed the example of their Jewish tradition, praying throughout the day with gratitude and expectation. They also took the prayer that Jesus taught them out into the Roman Empire. Archaeological excavations at Pompei found inscriptions indicating that the Lord’s Prayer was in use there before the destruction of the city by the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius in the year 79. The Lord’s Prayer became an essential part of teaching new Christians. The Didache, that’s the first century collection of The Lord’s teaching shared by the Apostles, includes the Lord’s Prayer and instructs that it should be said three times each day. In the third century, Origen, the finest systematic thinker of the Church Fathers, taught that the Lord’s Prayer is meant to be an outline for prayer, a simple framework that we are to fill in with our particular needs, cares, and concerns for others. We know that by the 4^th century, the Lord’s Prayer was at the heart of worship. Each week, Archbishop John Chrysostum prayed the Lord’s Prayer with his beloved flock in Constantinople, introducing it with the words, “And make us worthy, O Lord, that we joyously and without presumption may make bold to invoke Thee, the heavenly God, as Father, and to say, ‘Our Father…’”

Our ancestors in the Reformed tradition were devoted to prayer and the Lord’s Prayer. John Calvin once said that the one who neglects to pray “neglects a treasure buried and hidden in the earth, after it has been pointed out to them.” Calvin offered practical advice about prayer to his churchgoers in Geneva. Appoint certain hours for prayer each day, lest it slip from our memory. Approach God with reverence and humility. Trust in God’s mercy and providence. It doesn’t have to be fancy. Calvin said that God tolerates “even our stammers and pardons our ignorance.” Let your prayer rise not from the head, but “from the bottom of [y]our heart,” Calvin taught.

Maybe our personal prayer struggles arise because we pray from the head, looking for those eloquent words, hoping to steer the course of the world, wanting to forge a future that meets our personal vision of how things ought to be. But we are called to pray from the heart, to pray in ways that acknowledge the greatness of God and our personal vulnerability. When we pray from the head, we expect the world to change, which is often a recipe for disappointment. When we pray from the heart, we can expect to be changed. Heartfelt prayer coaxes us to grow into the people God created us to be. Heartfelt prayer equips us to live to the best of our ability in a world that is less than perfect and sometimes bitterly disappointing.

The Rev. Fred Rogers, better known to generations of Americans as Mr. Rogers, shared this understanding of heart prayer. In 1992, he was awarded an honorary doctorate from Boston University. He was invited to pray the invocation at commencement. As Mr. Rogers neared the podium, students, who had grown up watching “Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood,” were excited. Knowing his audience, Fred said, “I think you want to sing. Will you sing with me?” The young people immediately launched into a rousing round of “It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood.” When they settled, Fred began his prayer, “Dear God, please inspire our hearts to come even closer to you…”

So, perhaps we can make a fresh start on prayer this morning. We can resolve to keep things simple and heartfelt. Perhaps you’ll allow me to help you by leading you in a guided prayer, based on the prayer that Jesus taught his followers to pray. You might want to close your eyes, bow your head, and take a few deep breaths as I lead you in a prayer from the heart.

First, give thanks for God, who loves us like the best parent and yet is holy and all-powerful, who puffs into our lungs the breath of life and stretches the heavens like a tent.

Now, allow your heart to yearn for God’s kingdom, for a world here and now where righteousness and peace will kiss each other. Can you imagine it?

Think about your day, whatever has been or may lie ahead. Ask the Lord to provide what is needed, whether it is strength or love, kindness or patience, hope or help. Trust that what is truly needed will be provided.

Next, resolve to return to God, forsaking whatever drives a wedge between us, the Lord, and our neighbors.

Now, consider a relationship that needs mending. Perhaps you need to forgive or to be forgiven. Ask God to bring healing and know that the Lord is already at work.

Finally, consider a place of trial or temptation in your life. Feel the weight and the challenge of it. Ask the Lord to be your safety and protection. You could imagine God wrapping you up in the light of God’s sheltering love or envision Jesus praying with you and for you. Remember that although you may feel weak, God is strong and God is with you.

And as we finish, we might even resolve to try this again, to make a daily discipline of doing what Jesus did, finding the strength and the vision to live fully and faithfully through simple, heartfelt prayer. In his name we pray. Amen.

Resources

Michelle Voss Roberts. “Theological Perspective on Luke 11:1-13” in Feasting on the Gospels, Luke vol.1. Westminster John Knox Press, 2014.

H. Gregory Snyder. “Exegetical Perspective on Luke 11:1-13” in Feasting on the Gospels, Luke vol.1. Westminster John Knox Press, 2014.

Lewis Galloway. “Homiletical Perspective on Luke 11:1-13” in Feasting on the Gospels, Luke vol.1. Westminster John Knox Press, 2014.

–. “History of Jewish Prayer” in My Jewish Learning. 70 Faces Media. Accessed online at myjewishlearning.com.

Simon J. Kistemaker. “The Lord’s Prayer in the First Century” in the Journal of the Evangelical Theological Seminary, 21/4, Dec. 1978, 323-328.

John Calvin. Institutes of the Christian Religion, Book 3, chapter XX. The Westminster Press, 1977.

Carlton Wynne. “Calvin’s Four Rules of Prayer” in Reformation 21, March 29, 2019.

Luke 11:1-13

Jesus was praying in a certain place, and after he had finished, one of his disciples said to him, “Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples.” 2 So he said to them, “When you pray, say:

Father, may your name be revered as holy.
May your kingdom come.
3 Give us each day our daily bread.
4 And forgive us our sins,
for we ourselves forgive everyone indebted to us.
And do not bring us to the time of trial.”

5 And he said to them, “Suppose one of you has a friend, and you go to him at midnight and say to him, ‘Friend, lend me three loaves of bread, 6 for a friend of mine has arrived, and I have nothing to set before him.’ 7 And he answers from within, ‘Do not bother me; the door has already been locked, and my children are with me in bed; I cannot get up and give you anything.’ 8 I tell you, even though he will not get up and give him anything out of friendship, at least because of his persistence he will get up and give him whatever he needs.

9 “So I say to you, Ask, and it will be given to you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you. 10 For everyone who asks receives, and everyone who searches finds, and for everyone who knocks, the door will be opened. 11 Is there anyone among you who, if your child asked for a fish, would give a snake instead of a fish? 12 Or if the child asked for an egg, would give a scorpion? 13 If you, then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!”

Photo by RDNE Stock project on Pexels.com

Repent

March 16, 2025 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Repent” Luke 15:11-32

Near the end of his life, the Dutch Master Rembrandt completed “The Return of the Prodigal,” a painting considered by some to be his master work. The artist captured the moment of the Prodigal Son’s homecoming. The repentant young man kneels at his father’s feet. His clothing hangs in filthy rags. His shoes are so tattered that they fall from his feet. He buries his face in his father’s middle. Like a small child, his arms reach around to cling to the father, who leans forward to pull his lost son to his chest and kiss the top of his head. The father’s hands, strong but gentle, rest on the Prodigal’s back. The father’s face is soft and open. His mouth is slack, as if caught between the impossible joy of welcoming his lost child and the heartrending shock of seeing his son’s degradation. To the side of the painting, half in darkness, the elder son looks on, clothed in a fine scarlet cloak and elaborate turban. His hands are clenched before him. His brow is furrowed with anger, disbelief, and judgment. The distance between the elder son and his compassionate father and profligate brother leaps off the canvas.

Jesus told his Parable of the Prodigal Son to a mixed audience of wayward sons and righteous older brothers. The Lord was welcoming sinners and tax collectors. He even broke bread with them, and that was a source of scandal for the scribes and Pharisees, the most righteous people of their day, who faithfully observed all 613 requirements of the Torah.

The young son of Jesus’ story demonstrated the most profound disrespect. He treated his father as if he were as good as dead, demanding his portion of the inheritance, which he promptly liquidated. Forsaking his father’s house, he traveled to Gentile lands and blew his small fortune in wild living. Times were so desperate that he became a swineherd, even though the Torah taught, “The pig . . . is unclean for you. You shall not eat their meat, and you shall not touch their carcasses” (Deut. 14:8). Only when the young son had hit rock bottom, did he resolve to go home and throw himself upon the mercy of his father. He gathered his rags and returned, rehearsing along the way just what he would say. But as the lost son drew close to home, he learned that the Father had been looking and longing for his return. The patriarch ran down the road, welcomed him with open arms, and threw a party to restore the prodigal to both family and community. Who could blame the older son, who had spent years faithfully serving, working and obeying, who could blame him for his moral outrage and hurt?

When Jesus told his extended metaphor about the shocking mercy of God and the sinfulness of humanity, he probably offended all his listeners. Those tax collectors and sinners would have bristled at their depiction as degenerate scofflaws who wander far from God in profligate living. Those scribes and Pharisees would have been challenged to envision themselves as harsh, self-righteous, older brothers, who, in their own way, were just as disrespectful to the Father as the young son they condemned. These two lost sons were held together by a merciful Father, who would do anything to be reconciled to them and reconcile them to one another, whether running down the road to embrace them or leaving a party to seek them as they sulked outside in the dark. Both sons were sinners. Both were in need of repentance and love.

Repentance is one of the most essential teachings of Judaism. According to the tradition of the elders, God created repentance before God created the universe. God anticipated that, even though God would love us and provide for us all that was needed for abundant life, we would turn our back on God and work to the detriment of our neighbor. Repentance would be needed. The word repentance in Hebrew is teshuvah, which means to turn. In the ongoing journey of God and our ancestors in the faith, we would often choose to walk apart from God, yet repentance would allow us to return. According to the prophets, repentance was an act of the heart, an inner turning to God that resulted in outward actions of justice, mercy, and faithfulness. This inner transformation was displayed in rending garments, tossing ashes, wearing sackcloth, and offering sacrifices to God.

Repentance is one of the most essential teachings of Christianity. Indeed, the first words that Jesus uttered in his public ministry were, “Repent for the Kingdom of God is near” (Matthew 4:17), and among the last words of his public ministry, spoken from the cross, are the assurance of paradise for the repentant thief who was dying at his side. Jesus himself was the revelation of God’s profound longing to be reconciled to us. In Jesus, God chose to become man, to enter fully into our experience, and to stop at nothing—not even death on a cross—to reveal God’s love and mercy for us. As we repent and return to God, we find that God has already run down the road to greet us. Prodigal sons and judgmental older brothers, we all find a place in the Father’s mercy through Christ our Lord.

Few doctrines have been as hotly contested in the Christian tradition as repentance. The explosive growth of the early church was driven by welcome for those who had been deemed outside the community of faith, from sinners to pagans. Yet by the fourth century, it wasn’t enough to return to God and confess your sins. You needed the church, which church stood in the middle to mediate God’s grace. Repentance had to be made to a priest and accompanied by works of penance, like special prayers, fasting, almsgiving, or mortification of the flesh. Our absolution (forgiveness) was granted by the church once our works were done. This practice of treating forgiveness like a commodity to be doled out to penitents from the church’s limitless treasury of grace hit a high—or is that low—by the 16^th century, when Pope Sixtus IV determined that souls of the dead in purgatory could benefit from a papal indulgence, a certificate of absolution that could be conveniently acquired for the right price. When the coin in the coffer rings, the soul from purgatory springs. How far we had wandered from the beautiful story of the loving father and his two lost sons!

On a December evening in 1516, Martin Luther paced the floor of his study. The Augustinian priest and Bible scholar was troubled by the church’s sacrament of penance and the selling of indulgences. Was grace for sale? Could sinners earn their salvation through works? In his studies of the New Testament, Luther had come to the conclusion that Jesus never commodified his grace. It was abundantly and freely given. That night, Luther read the Letter to the Ephesians, “By grace you have been saved through faith and that not of yourselves—it is the gift of God, not works, lest any man should boast.” It hit Luther like a thunderclap. He picked up his pen and wrote, “Ergo sola gratia justificat,” justified by faith alone. Luther remembered the moment, saying, “Thereupon, I felt myself to be reborn and to have gone through open doors into paradise.” The following year, Luther posted his 95 Theses, launching a religious revolution by calling into question the church’s practice of commodifying grace.

What does repentance look like for us? Two decades after Luther’s realization about the freely given gift of God’s grace, John Calvin in his church in Geneva developed a rite of repentance that we continue to practice each week in worship, 500 years later. We stand together as a community of faith and return to God, confessing the ways that we have turned from God and brought injury to our neighbors. As we turn toward God, we find that God has already turned to us, like the Prodigal’s father, awaiting his lost sons with open arms. For the sake of Jesus Christ, we are assured of our pardon, a fact so amazing that we have to celebrate with an “Alleluia! Amen.”

Calvin further encouraged his parishioners to make a practice of regular self-examination, reflecting upon our lives and noting the ways that we have turned away from the right and righteous path. With humility and honesty, we can return to God, trusting that we are welcomed home and deeply loved. Calvin did not believe that we would ever get it truly right, but by making a daily discipline of returning to God, we could grow in God’s purpose over the course of a lifetime through the work of the Holy Spirit within us. Our practice of repentance could be as simple as an evening time of reflection upon our day to celebrate the ways that we felt blessed by God and the moments we felt far from God, and then concluding our reflection with the Lord’s Prayer.

In 1986, author and clergyman Henri Nouwen traveled to St. Petersburg, Russia, where Rembrandt’s painting “The Prodigal Son Returns” hangs in the Hermitage. Nouwen was allowed to observe the painting alone for hours. As he sat before Rembrandt’s masterwork, Henri began to see the painting as a metaphor for humanity. In his 1992 book, The Return of the Prodigal Son: A Story of Homecoming, Nouwen noted that Rembrandt himself had been both sons. Rembrandt had been the dutiful older brother, an earnest churchgoer, married to a devout wife, and a loving father of three children. But the untimely death of his wife and children sent Rembrandt down the road of profligacy. He drank his fill in taverns, frequented prostitutes, and nearly bankrupted himself. Nouwen wrote, “Rembrandt had lived a life in which neither the lostness of the younger son nor the lostness of the elder son was alien to him. Both needed healing and forgiveness. Both needed to come home. Both needed the embrace of a forgiving father.”

The same, of course, can be said for us all. Let us return to God.

Resources

J. William Harkins. “Theological Perspective on Luke 15:11-32” in Feasting on the Gospels: Luke, vol. 2. Westminster John Knox Press, 2014.

Rodney J. Hunter. “Pastoral Perspective on Luke 15:11-32” in Feasting on the Gospels: Luke, vol. 2. Westminster John Knox Press, 2014.

Raj Nadella. “Exegetical Perspective on Luke 15:11-32” in Feasting on the Gospels: Luke, vol. 2. Westminster John Knox Press, 2014.

Jos. P. Healey. “Repentance: Old Testament” in The Anchor Bible Dictionary, vol. 5, O-Sh. Doubleday, 1992.

Charles Hech. “Martin Luther: His Confessions and Battle against Sin” in Worldly Saints, blog, Jan. 4, 2017.

John Calvin. Institutes of the Christian Religion, Book 3, Chapter III. The Westminster Press, 1977.

Hans Vorschezung. “A Lightning Strike, Which Changed History” in Faith in Focus, 2006. Accessed online at christianstudylibrary.org.

Henri Nouwen. The Return of the Prodigal Son: A Story of Homecoming. Image Press, 1994.

Luke 15:11-32

¹¹Then Jesus said, “There was a man who had two sons. ¹²The younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of the wealth that will belong to me.’ So he divided his assets between them. ¹³A few days later the younger son gathered all he had and traveled to a distant region, and there he squandered his wealth in dissolute living. ¹⁴When he had spent everything, a severe famine took place throughout that region, and he began to be in need. ¹⁵So he went and hired himself out to one of the citizens of that region, who sent him to his fields to feed the pigs. ¹⁶He would gladly have filled his stomach with the pods that the pigs were eating, and no one gave him anything. ¹⁷But when he came to his senses he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired hands have bread enough and to spare, but here I am dying of hunger! ¹⁸I will get up and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; ¹⁹I am no longer worthy to be called your son; treat me like one of your hired hands.”’ ²⁰So he set off and went to his father. But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him. ²¹Then the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ ²²But the father said to his slaves, ‘Quickly, bring out a robe—the best one—and put it on him; put a ring on his finger and sandals on his feet. ²³And get the fatted calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate, ²⁴for this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found!’ And they began to celebrate.

²⁵“Now his elder son was in the field, and as he came and approached the house, he heard music and dancing. ²⁶He called one of the slaves and asked what was going on. ²⁷He replied, ‘Your brother has come, and your father has killed the fatted calf because he has got him back safe and sound.’ ²⁸Then he became angry and refused to go in. His father came out and began to plead with him. ²⁹But he answered his father, ‘Listen! For all these years I have been working like a slave for you, and I have never disobeyed your command, yet you have never given me even a young goat so that I might celebrate with my friends. ³⁰But when this son of yours came back, who has devoured your assets with prostitutes, you killed the fatted calf for him!’ ³¹Then the father said to him, ‘Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. ³²But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.’”

Accessed online at https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/9/93/Rembrandt_Harmensz_van_Rijn_-_Return_of_the_Prodigal_Son_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg/1569px-Rembrandt_Harmensz_van_Rijn_-_Return_of_the_Prodigal_Son_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg

Famished

March 9, 2025 / reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Famished” Luke 4:1-13

On February 28, our Muslim neighbors around the world began Ramadan, a month of fasting, prayer, and reflection. Fasting is one of the five essential practices (pillars) of Islam. During Ramadan, adults of sound health fast daily from sun up until sunset—no food or drink—and their early morning and after dark meals are simple. Ramadan reminds them of the needs of hungry neighbors and our personal dependence upon God.

In my last church, my senior pastor Michael Winters and I were a part of an interfaith ministry group with the local reformed rabbi and the Muslim Imam. Each year at the end of Ramadan, our faith communities would gather for Eid, a celebratory feast, kind of like the ultimate, most delicious potluck that you can imagine. Each year, my colleague Michael, the Imam, and the rabbi would give a little talk at the feast, briefly teaching about a spiritual practice. I’ll never forget the meeting when they decided to talk about fasting in their respective churches. Michael looked mildly alarmed.

Later, in the car on the way back to the church, I turned to Michael.

“Fasting?”

“Not high on the list for Presbyterians,” he glumly replied.

I thought about my time as a Presbyterian, from young adult to seminarian to clergy person. Never once had a congregation that I served ever discussed, let alone practiced, fasting. I commiserated with Michael, “Ugh. I’m guessing that you got nothing. Am I right?”

Shaking his head, he said, “Tell me about it.”

As the season of Lent begins, our gospel reading takes us to the wilderness with Jesus. According to Luke, no sooner had Jesus been baptized than the Holy Spirit swept him into the Judean desert in preparation for his ministry. There, Jesus spent forty days fasting and praying to seek insight, wisdom, and guidance from his heavenly Father. It was a spiritual journey that left him famished.

Thinking that Jesus’ long fast would leave him vulnerable to temptation, the evil one showed up to put the Lord to the test. Jesus was invited to use his power in self-serving ways: first, to relieve his overwhelming hunger by transforming stones to loaves of bread, next to gain worldly authority by changing his allegiance, and finally to put God to the test with a death-defying leap. Each temptation was deftly defeated by Jesus with a short but sweet quote from scripture. Clearly, Jesus’ time of prayer and fasting had equipped him to meet the challenges that were to come.

When Jesus fasted for those forty days, he was part of a long tradition of fasting observed by his ancestors. Leviticus 28 required the Hebrew people to fast each year on the Day of Atonement to seek God’s forgiveness for sin. Also, in times of national crisis, Israel’s kings called for a day of fasting and prayer. For example, when a large army from Edom threatened to invade Judah, King Jehosophat and his people fasted and prayed to avert the catastrophe. The Israelites also refrained from food and drink to deepen their prayer and draw near to God, like Moses—while on the mountaintop with God, he fasted for forty days.

Jesus expected his followers to fast and gave them instructions that suggested some people made a big, self-aggrandizing show of their pious restraint when it came to food. Jesus said, “Whenever you fast, do not look somber, like the hypocrites, for they mark their faces to show others that they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward. But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that your fasting may be seen—not by others—but by your heavenly Father….” First century Jews fasted twice weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. That means they refrained from food on those days until the ninth hour—three o-clock in the afternoon. As Jesus’ followers took the gospel out into the world, fasting went with them. When the Apostle Paul and his home church in Antioch prepared for the Gentile mission, they did so with fasting and prayer.

Jesus knew that our deepest, most existential, hunger is for God. We look for poor substitutes, trying to fill our lives with food, social media, an over-commitment to work, a passion for politics, shopping until we drop, addictions. You name it. The practice of fasting makes room within us for God. You might even say that fasting is a soul feast, an intentional time to rest in God and meet that deep hunger we have for the sacred. Augustine taught that our hearts are always restless until they find their rest in God alone.

Between the sixth and eighth centuries the role of fasting expanded in Christianity. In addition to fasting until the ninth hour twice weekly, Christians were expected to similarly fast for the forty days of Lent, for three days before the Festival of Ascension, one day every month (except in July and August), on Good Friday, and the day before Christmas, Epiphany, Easter, and Pentecost. If you add all that up, Christians engaged in some form of fasting about 140 days each year.

So how did we as Protestants get from fasting for 140 days to me and Michael Winters feeling like we had nothing to say as we joined our Muslim and Jewish neighbors for Eid? We can blame it on the Reformation. By the 16^th century, fasting had lost its spiritual significance. Instead of fasting to draw near to God in prayer, or say “no” to the flesh, or seek divine help in times of crisis, our ancestors were fasting because they considered it a requirement for getting into heaven. John Calvin and other Reformers said that smacked of works righteousness, as if we could manipulate God into opening the pearly gates. This would never do.

In his effort to rethink fasting, Calvin taught that we should think about time, quantity, and quality. Christians should fast at self-chosen times for a prescribed period, like a day or a week; and fasting should always be accompanied by prayer and confession. Fasting did not mean total abstinence from food but to eat sparingly and content ourselves with humble fare. No “dainties” as Calvin called them. In Calvin’s church in Geneva, a simple fast was expected before partaking of the Lord’s Supper, before baptism, and before being ordained to a ministry of the church.

Calvin’s ideas seem reasonable, but when we are left to our own devices to determine our time, quantity, and quality of restraint from food, we opt out. Most of us do not consider fasting to be a core practice of the life of faith. So, how on this first Sunday in Lent, are we to reclaim the ancient practice of fasting in ways that are meaningful and beneficial? And do we really want to?

The late author and editor Harvey Smit suggested that fasting can be a powerful reminder that we do not live by bread alone. In this world where ego is king, fasting reminds us of our utter dependence upon God. Fasting also places us in solidarity with the world’s hungry people—malnourished children in Afghanistan, the starving women and children of Yemen, and working-class families right here in the United States who feel the pinch of inflation and skip meals so that their children can eat. Smit also argued that fasting is useful because it teaches us to postpone gratification. In a world where we want it and we want it now, fasting teaches us to say no to the flesh, no to the selfish impulse, no to the desire for more, more, more. And we shouldn’t forget that fasting functions much as it has for eons: to focus our attention and our prayers upon God, trusting that Jesus, who fasted in the wilderness, is with us.

What might Presbyterian fasting look like? We could try substituting prayer time for a meal, or we could consider simplifying our diets, only having one substantial meal a day and two small snacks that are accompanied by prayer or scripture reading. We could follow the example of the early church and pick a day to fast until the ninth hour (three o’clock). Instead of working through the breakfast and lunch that we miss, we could read a devotional book, sing hymns, play spiritual music, or listen to a sermon. Although fasting is not prescribed for us for Lent, a day of fasting during Lent could serve to focus our attention on Jesus and his journey to the cross. As we ponder the Lord’s words, humility, and self-sacrifice, we draw near to God with gratitude for all that God has done for us.

If the thought of refraining from food makes your blood sugar drop and your knees feel weak, you’ll be relieved that Martin Lloyd-Jones, one of the most influential Calvinist preachers of the twentieth century, taught that, “fasting should really be made to include abstinence from anything. . .for the sake of some special spiritual purpose.” That opens us to a world of possibilities. Could we fast from social media? Instead of doom scrolling, we could try a time of prayer. Could we turn off the television and spend the evening in meditation and divine reading? Could we step back from sweets? Alcohol? Indulgent purchases? Could we then donate the money we save to One Great Hour of Sharing or a favorite charitable concern? The possibilities are truly limitless and up to us.

Back in Morton Grove all those year’s ago, my friend Michael cobbled together a talk on Presbyterian fasting. He spoke last after the Imam told us all about Ramadan and the rabbi impressed us with Yom Kippur and weekly fasts. Later, I took a seat next to Michael after helping myself to a second (or was it third?) plate of tasty treats from the potluck buffet.

“How are you?” I asked my friend. I looked down at his plate, which was just as full as mine.

Michael looked around the room at Jewish, Christian, and Muslim neighbors chatting, eating, and comparing recipes. He smiled, “I may not be an expert in fasting, but this,” he gestured to the beautiful interfaith fellowship and overflowing plates, “this looks like the beautiful feast in the Kingdom of God.”

He couldn’t be more right.

Resources:

William H. Shea. “Fast, Fasting” in The Anchor Bible Dictionary, vol. 2, D-G. Doubleday, 1992, pp. 773-776.

David S. Jacobsen. “Commentary on Luke 4:1-13” in Preaching This Week, March 10, 2019. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/first-sunday-in-lent-3/commentary-on-luke-41-13-4

Richard W. Swanson. “Commentary on Luke 4:1-13” in Preaching This Week, March 9, 2025. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/first-sunday-in-lent-3/commentary-on-luke-41-13-6

Thomas A. Tarrantson. “The Place of Fasting in the Christian Life” in Knowing and Doing, Knowing and Doing, Summer 2018.

James A. Strong and John McClintock. “Fasting in the Christian Church” in The Encyclopedia of Biblical, Theological, and Ecclesial Literature. New York: Harper Bros, 1880.

David Mathis. “Fasting for Beginners” in Desiring God, August 26, 2015. Accessed online at https://www.desiringgod.org/articles/fasting-for-beginners

Harvey Albert Smit. “Fasting Guidelines for Reformed Christians” in Reformed Worship, December 1987. Accessed online at https://www.reformedworship.org/article/december-1987/fasting-guidelines-reformed-christians

Luke 4:1-13

Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, ²where for forty days he was tested by the devil. He ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over he was famished. ³The devil said to him, “If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread.” ⁴Jesus answered him, “It is written, ‘One does not live by bread alone.’ ”

⁵Then the devil led him up and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. ⁶And the devil said to him, “To you I will give all this authority and their glory, for it has been given over to me, and I give it to anyone I please. ⁷If you, then, will worship me, it will all be yours.” ⁸Jesus answered him, “It is written,

‘Worship the Lord your God,
and serve only him.’ ”

⁹Then the devil led him to Jerusalem and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple and said to him, “If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, ¹⁰for it is written,

‘He will command his angels concerning you,
to protect you,’

¹¹and

‘On their hands they will bear you up,
so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.’ ”

¹²Jesus answered him, “It is said, ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’” ¹³When the devil had finished every test, he departed from him until an opportune time.

Photo by u0412u043eu043bu043eu0434u0438u043cu0438u0440 u041eu043bu0435u0439u043du0456u043au043eu0432 on Pexels.com

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

Joann White

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

faith

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