Jesus

The Beautiful Feast

/ reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The Beautiful Feast” Isaiah 25:6-9

In October, we revived the pre-pandemic tradition of Committee Night, a monthly evening when the committees of the church gather. The evening begins at 5:30pm with a potluck supper. You never know what will turn up on the dinner table, but it is always good and plentiful. Last week, we had homemade soup, bread, charcuterie, fresh and dried fruit, salad, and a host of desserts, including not one but two birthday cakes for me. What a feast!

We typically transition from the dinner table to our small workgroups around 6:00pm. But as we laughed, swapped stories, and enjoyed the meal, time, as it often does when there is good food and good company, slipped away. About 6:20, I reluctantly shifted us from feast mode to work mode. Committees met, plans were made, and tasks assigned, all in time for choir practice to start at 7pm. That potluck meal felt like a victory as we shrugged off the vestiges of the COVID-19 pandemic and returned to right rhythms of eating, caring, and serving together.

In our reading from Isaiah, God granted the prophet a vision of the beautiful feast in the Kingdom of God. The table overflowed with sumptuous food and the finest of wine. The people of Israel and all the nations of the world rejoiced, feeding on the bounty that God had prepared. Every belly was full, every face flushed with satisfaction. The sound of laughter and song and heartfelt conversation rose in a blessed crescendo. Almighty God, that most generous and loving of hosts, met every hunger, dried every tear, and comforted every sorrow. Then, God had God’s own feast, to the amazement of all. God swallowed up death, ending forever the mortal shroud that parted the holy from the ordinary. What a feast! Isaiah’s vision has prompted hope and delight ever since.

This church is no stranger to the hope and delight that our beautiful feasts can engender. Back in 1927, we called the Rev. Hiram Lyon to serve as our pastor. The recent seminary graduate was a young bachelor with a flair for cooking. On several occasions, he put on summer dinners at Split Rock Farm for the church’s Men’s Club. We don’t know the menu, but since it was a bunch of guys, I think we can trust that there was grilling involved. There is a record, though, of what happened after dinner. The men sat around the campfire until late in the evening, watching the moon rise and the night fall. They pondered the billion stars of the Milky Way and the great mystery of the divine.

Perhaps the church’s fanciest feast took place in 1985. We had building on our minds—the extension of the church to create the Great Hall and the Christian Education classrooms. To share plans and kick-off the church’s fundraising efforts, we hosted a dinner at the Hotel Saranac. Invitations were mailed. Neighbors from the community were invited. I hear the food was excellent and the hall filled with hopeful expectation as we dreamed together about the blessing that would flow for us and for the community when our building effort reached completion.

I may be a little biased, but I think Duane’s and my wedding reception in the Great Hall, almost nineteen years ago now, was another echo of the beautiful feast. It wasn’t fancy. The deacons cooked up seven crockpots of soup. Duane and I provided an abundance of sandwich wraps, cheese and crackers, punch, and a fabulous wedding cake made by Dawne’s sister. Duane’s friends came all the way from Virginia to provide bluegrass music. Little girls twirled around the dancefloor in their princess dresses. And, the golden girls of the United Presbyterian Women sampled and provided commentary on every single soup. What a feast!

It might surprise us to learn that when Isaiah shared God’s hopeful vision of the holy banquet, the Hebrew people didn’t have a lot to celebrate. Gone were the days of unity for the twelve tribes. The northern clans had long ago split to form the Kingdom of Israel. The southern tribes confederated under the banner of Judah. Waves of foreign invasion had wracked the two kingdoms. Indeed, when Isaiah spoke, the northern kingdom had fallen to the Assyrians. Many of their northern kin had been deported, sent to the far corners of the Assyrian Empire. The invaders had almost vanquished Judah, too. They encamped around the walls of Jerusalem and sought to starve the kingdom into submission. Only the forethought of King Hezekiah, whose men had tunneled beneath the city walls to allow access to fresh water and supplies, allowed the hungry city to outlast the siege. As Isaiah spoke the vision of God’s beautiful feast, foreign invaders were again on the horizon. The Babylonian army was rising in the east in what would prove to be an unstoppable tide.

Our beautiful feasts don’t happen in a perfect world. When Hiram Lyon hosted those starry suppers for the Men’s Club, Saranac Lake was at the height of the tuberculosis pandemic. Sanatoriums and cure cottages overflowed with desperately sick neighbors who had come to our village in the hope of a cold air cure. Hiram Lyon knew all about that. He came to the village as a tuberculosis patient, having contracted the disease while a student at Union Seminary in Morningside Heights, NYC. He stayed in the village to pastor our church for ten years and minister to the sick whose experience he had shared.

When we banqueted at the Hotel Saranac and dreamed of a bigger, better building, we weren’t too certain about the future. The church’s Christian Education building—Gurley Hall—had originally been built as a stable and had not withstood the test of time. Under-insulated and poorly heated, it was no longer fit for classes or community use, and our efforts to excavate below the sanctuary to create the Lower Room hadn’t provided nearly enough space for our programs. We were renting space from St. Luke’s and the Methodists. In fact, we debated closing our doors and merging with our neighbors. And then there was the matter of funding. Someone—probably Sally’s husband Bill—had the vision to build, but we definitely didn’t have the money.

When Duane and I danced a bluegrass waltz and the children blew bubbles to bless us in the Great Hall on our wedding day, the church had been through bleak times. There was a full-blown schism with the departure of Pastor Chuck, and we had weathered a lengthy interim with the tough but wise Pastor Carol. People had left the church. We were plagued by poor communication and rival factions. I had inherited a $45,000 budget deficit. We would either make it or we wouldn’t, but we needed to turn the corner fast.

Isaiah’s vision affirms that our beautiful feasts do not happen in a perfect world where everything is blue skies, sunshine, and lollipops. It also affirms that God is present in the midst of our chaos. God longs to feed us, nurture us, dry our tears, and comfort us. The world is filled with war and the threat of war, pandemics, declining mainline churches, and bitter divisions. Yet Isaiah reminds us that God is more than a match for our chaos. God is in the middle of it, fighting to deliver us from all that makes our hearts tremble. Indeed, the God who swallows death whole has raised Jesus from the dead and broken down every barrier that can ever separate us from God’s eternal, unstoppable love. One day, we will all be seated at God’s table, bellies full, laughter ringing, conversation flowing, joy complete. What a feast!

Today, we will celebrate our own feast, here at the Lord’s Table, where generations of Presbyterians have been fed. Our beautiful feast does not happen in a perfect world. Bombs are falling in the Middle East. Children are starving in Gaza and Yemen, Afghanistan and Congo, Somalia and Sudan. We are days away from a hotly contested election that will leave at least half of our neighbors bitterly disappointed, no matter what the outcome. Yet we dare to come to this table, to remember that God is with us even when the world is at its most chaotic. God longs to comfort the grieving, feed the hungry, and dry the tears that flow. The Lord holds out to us the hope that one day all people, all nations, will gather at God’s banquet table—peaceful, beloved, and satisfied. Lord, speed the day!

This morning, like Isaiah, we engage in a prophetic act. As we share the Lord’s Supper, and we pledge our gifts to support the church in the coming year, we acknowledge that we do not live in a perfect world. But with God’s help, we can nudge this world a little closer to the Kingdom. With God’s help, we can live with hope and delight. With God’s help, we can feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, and bless the children. With God’s help, we can build a world where all are welcomed to the table. What a feast it will be! Amen.

Resources

Evelyn Outcalt and Judy Kratts. A History of the First Presbyterian Church of Saranac Lake, written in celebration of the church’s centenary, July 25, 1990.

Anathea Portier-Young. “Commentary on Isaiah 25:6-9” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 1, 2015. Accessed online at Commentary on Isaiah 25:6-9 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Amy Erickson. “Commentary on Isaiah 25:6-9” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 4, 2012. Accessed online at Commentary on Isaiah 25:6-9 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Julianna Claasens. “Commentary on Isaiah 25:6-9” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 1, 2009. Accessed online at Commentary on Isaiah 25:6-9 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Corinne Carvalho. “Commentary on Isaiah 25:6-9” in Preaching This Week, Nov. 7, 2021. Accessed online at Commentary on Isaiah 25:6-9 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Isaiah 25:6-9

6 On this mountain the Lord of hosts will make for all peoples
    a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wines,
    of rich food filled with marrow, of well-aged wines strained clear.
7 And he will destroy on this mountain
    the shroud that is cast over all peoples,
    the covering that is spread over all nations;
8     he will swallow up death forever.
Then the Lord God will wipe away the tears from all faces,
    and the disgrace of his people he will take away from all the earth,
    for the Lord has spoken.
9 It will be said on that day,
    “See, this is our God; we have waited for him, so that he might save us.
    This is the Lord for whom we have waited;
    let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation.”

Photo by Bave Pictures on Pexels.com

Threading the Needle

/ reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Threading the Needle” Mark 10:17-31

Next Saturday, walkers from this church will join our ecumenical neighbors in the annual Saranac Lake CROP Walk. We’ll be raising funds for the international hunger programs of Church World Service and the Interfaith Food Pantry here at home. CROP walkers say, “We walk because they walk.” It’s an acknowledgment of our solidarity with global neighbors who daily walk for food, water, work, school, and firewood.  The average distance that women in the developing world walk every day for water for their families is 3.4 miles. Elma Kassa of Ethiopia walks for water. Although Elma would like to go to school, she cannot because she helps her mother wash clothes to support the family.  Four times every day, Elma collects water, using a five-gallon clay jar.  Perhaps next Saturday as walkers stride down LaPan Highway from the Alliance Church to our church, they can think of Elma, with her heavy clay jar atop her head.

CROP Walks seek to eradicate hunger.  That’s a formidable task.  The Global Hunger Index tracks the state of hunger worldwide, country by country. Their 2024 report shows that little progress has been made in reducing hunger since 2016. Forty-two countries still experiencing alarming or serious hunger. Globally, 733 million people lack access to sufficient calories, and 2.8 billion people cannot afford a healthy diet. Acute food insecurity and the risk of famine are on the rise, and starvation is proliferating as a weapon of war. Worldwide, 148 million children are stunted, 45 million children are wasted, and almost 5 million children die before age five from hunger-related causes. The situation is most severe in Burundi, Yemen, and Niger—and it is on the rise in Afghanistan, Argentina, and Mongolia. Hunger kills more than nine million people each year, more than AIDs, malaria, and tuberculosis combined. 3.1 million of those deaths are children. 

People are hungry in the United States. The USDA estimates that 44.2 million Americans nationwide live in food insecure households. These are homes where meals are skipped or kids are sent to school without breakfast because there aren’t sufficient resources to put food on the table. 28% of households with children indicate that kids were not eating enough because families could not afford food, thanks to inflated prices and the end of federal pandemic relief support. Feeding America reports that more than 53 million people turn to food banks, food pantries, and meal programs for help. That’s one-third more than prior to the pandemic. Our food pantry volunteers will tell you that the Saranac Lake pantry downstairs is a busy place on Saturday mornings, serving all kinds of neighbors—seniors, single moms, traditional families, and people living with homelessness, mental illness, developmental disabilities, or physical handicaps.

Jesus’ encounter with the rich man invites us to consider the responsibilities of our relative affluence in a world plagued by persistent hunger.  Breathless after his run, kneeling in the dust of the road at Jesus’ feet, the rich man wanted to know what he must do to inherit eternal life. This righteous man was relieved to hear Jesus reciting the instructions of the Torah—no murder, adultery, stealing, lying, or defrauding. Be sure to honor your parents. The man had kept all these commandments from his youth, and he must have done so with great earnestness and integrity, because Jesus loved him for it and invited him to become a disciple.

There was only one thing lacking. Although the man was expert in keeping the Torah, he seemed to have fallen short in tzedakah or almsgiving, one of the most essential principles of Jewish piety.  Our Jewish ancestors believed that, ultimately, everything belongs to God.  While God could have created a world where everyone had exactly the same distribution of God’s bounty, God chose not to do so. Instead, some, like the rich man, were given much, while others had little. This uneven distribution of resources was how God invited faithful people to join their purpose to God’s purpose, to live lovingly and generously so that God’s goodness could abound for all. Faced with Jesus’ invitation to sell what he owned for the blessing of his impoverished neighbors, the rich man turned his back on a life with Jesus and went away grieving.

When it comes to wealth, we don’t consider ourselves rich, certainly not rich enough to be labeled “the rich man” or “the rich woman.” But when we see ourselves through the eyes of the world, we are more than blessed. The average daily wage in the United States is about $162. Developing countries with unstable political and economic conditions do not fare nearly so well. In Nepal, the average daily wage is $3.75; in Sudan, it’s $2.71; and in Afghanistan, people try to survive on less than a dollar a day. I have said it before, and I suspect that I will say it again, my friends. We are blessed—we are rich.

I’m not saying that we don’t work hard to earn what we have. We may spend long years striving in tough jobs to give our families the sort of home life and advantages that we wish them to have. I see a lot of hard workers when I look out at our pews on Sunday mornings. But I wonder if we see our relative wealth in the same way that Jesus invited the rich man to think of his money. Our relative affluence is a generous gift from God to bless our lives and to bless the lives of our impoverished neighbors. I wonder what our household expenditures might look like if Jesus were writing the checks. Today Jesus gives the rich man—and us—an uncomfortable reminder that we are meant to share God’s blessing with others.  When we do so, we get a foretaste of God’s Kingdom, where all are welcomed to the bountiful feast that Jesus has prepared.

I want to share how our participation in the CROP Walk can allow us to be a blessing to our neighbors, near and far. Our CROP dollars will help world neighbors like Moize Munenwa Joseph, one of over 800 people in Tanzania who participated in a CWS-sponsored vegetable farming program. Moize learned valuable farming skills like seed selection, pest control, and farm cleanliness. This helped him to improve his harvest and increase his income. Now Moize is sharing what he learned with others in his community. Moize says, “I can take care of my family and ensure we consume healthy food.”

Our CROP dollars can help world neighbors like Hak Nhy in Cambodia. For generations, her family has lived off crops from their vegetable farm. Challenges from climate change and the pandemic affected their harvest, leaving Hak and her family with barely enough to eat or sell. Hak enrolled in a Church World Service gardening program that taught her how to plant a more productive and nutritious garden. Hak says, “I have [gained] skills and knowledge on vegetable gardening, adapting to the changing weather conditions, and compost making.” Her family now has a better diet and her garden’s increased harvest allows her to sell surplus vegetables.

Our CROP dollars also help world neighbors like Alodia González, who lives in rural Paraguay. Alodia’s family struggled to have a stable income until she participated in a CWS training that focused on planting seeds and food production. Alodia learned about beekeeping and making honey. She also learned to organize and launch a community garden. Alodia says, “With a good production of honey, we are generating significant income to support our families. With the garden, we are able to eat lettuce and other vegetables produced by us.”

Our CROP dollars can be the kind of blessing that Jesus had hoped the rich man might share with his impoverished neighbors. I’m not talking about selling everything we have and giving it all away this morning. The good news for us is that even a modest gift that is well within our budgets can make a big difference in the lives of our needy neighbors.  A $20 pledge can provide chickens for a family—chickens are a lasting resource for eggs and meat. $60 is enough to help three families with seeds and training for home gardening. They’ll have better nutrition and the extra income that comes with plenty of veggies. A $161 pledge would be enough to enable a farmer to plant an acre of sweet potatoes, to provide both food and income. Are we feeling especially generous? $1,499 buys the whole farm—seeds, meat animals, and training to provide a family with reliable sources of food and income to meet their needs for years to come.

The rich man may have turned away from Jesus, saddened by the invitation to discipleship that Jesus shared with him. But I suspect that this morning, as we consider the call to discipleship and the impact of CROP Walk, we are getting inspired, eager even, to make a difference in the lives of hungry neighbors.  We are blessed, my friends, so that we might be a blessing to others. May we go forth to follow Jesus, sharing generously of our abundance to make a difference in the lives of our hungry neighbors.

Resources

Concern Worldwide. “Global Hunger Index 2024.” Accessed online at 2017 Global Hunger Index: The Inequalities of Hunger (concern.net)

Mehdi Punjwani. “Average salary in the U.S. in 2024” in USA Today, Sept. 26, 2024. Accessed online at Average Salary in the U.S. in 2024 (usatoday.com)

World Data. “Average income around the world” October 2024. Accessed online at https://www.worlddata.info/average-income.php

Church World Service. CWS (cwsglobal.org)

Mark G. Vitalis-Hoffman. “Commentary on Mark 10:17-31” in Preaching This Week, Oct. 11, 2015. Accessed online at Commentary on Mark 10:17-31  – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

David Lose. “Commentary on Mark 10:17-31” in Preaching This Week, Oct. 14, 2012. Accessed online at Commentary on Mark 10:17-31  – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Matt Skinner. “Commentary on Mark 10:17-31” in Preaching This Week, Oct. 11, 2009. Accessed online at Commentary on Mark 10:17-31  – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

To make a donation: https://events.crophungerwalk.org/cropwalks/event/saranaclakeny

Mark 10:17-31

17 As he was setting out on a journey, a man ran up and knelt before him and asked him, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” 18 Jesus said to him, “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone. 19 You know the commandments: ‘You shall not murder. You shall not commit adultery. You shall not steal. You shall not bear false witness. You shall not defraud. Honor your father and mother.’ ” 20 He said to him, “Teacher, I have kept all these since my youth.” 21 Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, “You lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.” 22 When he heard this, he was shocked and went away grieving, for he had many possessions.

23 Then Jesus looked around and said to his disciples, “How hard it will be for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God!” 24 And the disciples were perplexed at these words. But Jesus said to them again, “Children, how hard it is to enter the kingdom of God! 25 It is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.” 26 They were greatly astounded and said to one another, “Then who can be saved?” 27 Jesus looked at them and said, “For mortals it is impossible, but not for God; for God all things are possible.”

28 Peter began to say to him, “Look, we have left everything and followed you.” 29 Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields for my sake and for the sake of the good news 30 who will not receive a hundredfold now in this age—houses, brothers and sisters, mothers and children, and fields, with persecutions—and in the age to come eternal life. 31 But many who are first will be last, and the last will be first.”

Sowing the Seeds of Peace

/ reverendjoannwhite / 2 Comments

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Sowing the Seeds of Peace” Zech. 8:3-17

Since 1940, churches have observed a world-wide communion on this first Sunday of October. It’s a sign of our unity in Christ. As we gather at the table, we remember that we are made one in Christ. And as we go forth from worship, we resolve to take the unity, peace, and love of Christ with us, so that our actions in our families, communities, and beyond might anticipate and promote the unity that God longs to see for our world.

That first World Communion Sunday was a prophetic act, undertaken in a time that was descending into worldwide violence. In October 1940, France had fallen to Hitler’s invading army. The Vichy government had just proclaimed the end of Jewish status, denying their Jewish citizens the most essential of rights and freedoms. Concentration camps across German-occupied Europe were filled with men and women, conscripted into forced labor in inhuman conditions. Hitler was meeting with Mussolini at the Brenner Pass in the Alps, where they devised plans for world domination. Within days, the Blitz would rain bombs on the streets of London, Bristol, and Coventry, England.

World Communion this year coincides with the anniversary of the Hamas terror attack on southern Israel. On October 7, 2023, 1,195 Israeli civilians were killed and more than 200 were taken hostage. In response, the Israeli Defense Forces launched a war against Hamas in Gaza. 41,431 Palestinians have been killed, more than half of them women and children. 1,706 Israeli soldiers have died. About 120 journalists, reporting on the war, have lost their lives, as have 224 humanitarian aid workers and 179 United Nations Relief Workers (UNRWA). 60% of the people in Gaza have lost a family member this past year. This week, we held our breath while Israel took the fight to Lebanon, targeting Hamas and the anti-Israeli militant group Hezbollah, which is equipped by Iran. Predictably, the Iranian response launched 180 missiles into Israel’s airspace. It is estimated that 1.2 million people were displaced in Lebanon this week, fleeing the escalating violence.

We do not know what will happen in the coming year as Israel continues their offensive and Iran responds. We do not know what will happen as Vladimir Putin pursues his grievous war against the people of Ukraine. We do not know what will happen as Yemen’s Houthi rebels launch missiles at passing cargo ships. We do not know what the future holds for the civil war in famine-ridden Sudan. We do know that we need World Communion today every bit as much as we did when it was initiated in 1940.

Our reading from the Prophet Zechariah promises peace and abundant life for people in a time of struggle and wavering hope. Written in the year 522BCE, the Israelite people lived in a landscape that had been scarred by war. Some of the people were newly returned from years of exile in Babylon. Clans that had been separated by more than half a century of captivity were learning how to be family again. And they were seeking to do so amid trying circumstances. Fields and orchards had gone fallow. Trade routes were disrupted. The city of Jerusalem lay in ruins—its walls breached and the temple burned to the ground. When the Persian Empire defeated Babylon, the people had rejoiced as they were sent home to their Promised Land with resources and the blessing to rebuild. But where would they start? Who could do the work? Would the land ever again flow with milk and honey?

Into this trying time, God spoke a word of encouragement and hope through the Prophet Zechariah. God promised a rebuilt Jerusalem, where the streets would be filled with blessing: everyone would live to a ripe old age and the sounds of children laughing and playing would ring out. God would sow the seeds of peace, and there would be a harvest of abundance: grape vines heavy with ripe fruit, golden fields waving with ripe grain, rain falling to water the land, a people living as a blessing to the nations. Can we imagine how good those words sounded to the people who heard Zechariah speak?

The people would play their own part in bringing that peaceful abundance to pass. There would be the hard physical work of tending fields and flocks, raising up the walls, and rebuilding the Temple. And, according to Zechariah, there would be some demanding personal work. The people would need to sow their own seeds of peace. They would need to speak truth and ensure that justice was passed at the court of the city gate. They would need to turn from evil and work for the good of all their neighbors. They would need to put an end to the lies that divided communities and prevented justice in the land. God would plant seeds of peace, and so must God’s people, sowing peace and justice one household, one neighborhood, one city at a time. This was the Lord’s vision, God’s best hope for God’s people.

It’s a beautiful vision that God continues to hold out to faithful people all around the world this morning. Even now, God is sowing seeds of peace. God envisions a world where Israel, Hamas, Hezbollah, and Iran will come to the table of peace. God sees a time when the people of Ukraine and Russia will beat their weapons of war into plowshares and pruning hooks. God dreams of the time when famine-stricken and civil-war-torn places like Yemen and Sudan will end their strife and the people will eat the bread of peace. The seeds of peace will grow and flourish in a world-wide harvest, the lion shall lie down with the lamb, and the people will know war no more. Lord, hasten the day!

We do not know what will happen this year in all those conflict-ridden, war-torn, frightening places, but this morning we do know that there is work for us to do. God’s people always have a role to play in bringing God’s hopeful sowing of the seeds of peace to an abundant harvest. Zechariah told us so. It starts here with our personal resolve to do the things that make for peace. Are we ready?

First, we are to speak truthfully to one another, not only expressing what is true, factual, and responsible but also listening to the truths of others. As truth is spoken and ears are opened. We find a way to move forward, past times of division and misunderstanding.

Next, we are to ensure justice for all people, whether it is the court of public opinion, our local town courts, or our broader legal system. In the words of the late Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, jr., “No justice, no peace.” We all, especially those among us who are marginalized, impoverished, and at-risk, deserve our day in court and justice for all.

We also need to rethink our definition of neighbor. If we accord the honor and care of “neighbor” only to those who look like us, think like us, and act like us, then we are doomed to always live in the land of “us and them.” Can we instead dare to find common ground and work together for a world community where everyone is a neighbor and a beloved child of God?

Finally, we cannot honor lies as truth, or as Zechariah puts it, we cannot “love perjury.” That calls for personal vigilance that calls out old family stories that perpetuate division and misunderstanding. That calls for communities that refuse to scapegoat vulnerable people, like immigrants or minorities, blaming them for all our social, civic, and economic ills. That calls for doing our due diligence to ensure that we do not repeat stories that are not factual, whether we heard it on the street, saw it on social media, or watched it on television. As long as we accept lies as truth, we cannot live in peace. Can I get an amen?

This morning, the Prophet Zechariah reminds us that God has sown the seeds of peace. The Lord, through the Prophet Zechariah, has even given us a roadmap to the things that make for peace. It starts with us, my friends. The only question remaining on this World Communion Sunday is, “Will we do our part in bringing God’s generous sowing of peace to a full and abundant harvest that is a blessing to all?”  Zechariah–and the Lord–hope that our answer is a resounding, “Yes!”

Resources:

PCUSA. “A Sowing of Peace” Presbyterian Peacemaking Program. Louisville: PCUSA, 2024.

David Petersen. Haggai and Zechariah 1-8. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1984.

Peter C. Craigie. Twelve Prophets, vol. 2. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1985.

AP News. “What to know about fighting in Lebanon and Gaza” in The Associated Press, October 5, 2024. Accessed online at https://apnews.com/article/israel-lebanon-what-to-know-hezbollah-incursion-c44358cb4c70db69bdab4b254cb2ed76

–. “Casualties of the Israel–Hamas war” in Wikipedia, the online encyclopedia, October 4, 2024. Accessed online at Casualties of the Israel–Hamas war – Wikipedia

Zechariah 8:3-17 (HCSB)

3 The Lord says this: “I will return to Zion and live in Jerusalem. Then Jerusalem will be called the Faithful City, the mountain of the Lord of Hosts, and the Holy Mountain.” 4 The Lord of Hosts says this: “Old men and women will again sit along the streets of Jerusalem, each with a staff in hand because of advanced age. 5 The streets of the city will be filled with boys and girls playing in them.” 6 The Lord of Hosts says this: “Though it may seem incredible to the remnant of this people in those days, should it also seem incredible to Me?”—this is the declaration of the Lord of Hosts. 7 The Lord of Hosts says this: “I will save My people from the land of the east and the land of the west. 8 I will bring them back to live in Jerusalem. They will be My people, and I will be their faithful and righteous God.” 9 The Lord of Hosts says this: “Let your hands be strong, you who now hear these words that the prophets spoke when the foundations were laid for the rebuilding of the temple, the house of the Lord of Hosts. 10 For prior to those days neither man nor beast had wages. There was no safety from the enemy for anyone who came or went, for I turned everyone against his neighbor. 11 But now, I will not treat the remnant of this people as in the former days”—this is the declaration of the Lord of Hosts. 12 “For they will sow in peace: the vine will yield its fruit, the land will yield its produce, and the skies will yield their dew. I will give the remnant of this people all these things as an inheritance. 13 As you have been a curse among the nations, house of Judah and house of Israel, so I will save you, and you will be a blessing. Don’t be afraid; let your hands be strong.” 14 For the Lord of Hosts says this: “As I resolved to treat you badly when your fathers provoked Me to anger, and I did not relent,” says the Lord of Hosts, 15 “so I have resolved again in these days to do what is good to Jerusalem and the house of Judah. Don’t be afraid. 16 These are the things you must do: Speak truth to one another; make true and sound decisions within your gates. 17 Do not plot evil in your hearts against your neighbor, and do not love perjury, for I hate all this”—this is the Lord’s declaration.

Photo by Binyamin Mellish on Pexels.com

True Abundance

/ reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “True Abundance” John 10: 7-10

Plastic is perhaps the greatest pollution threat to our planet. In the past fifty years, it has become the primary material used in our packaging industry, replacing paper, cardboard, metal, and glass. One million plastic water bottles are purchased every minute worldwide. Five trillion plastic bags are used each year. 460 million tons of plastic are produced annually, and that production is anticipated to increase by one-third in the next five years.

Plastic is an environmental threat. Whether we bury plastic in landfills or dump it untreated into our waters, plastic is slow to biodegrade, taking twenty to five hundred years to decompose. A plastic bag buried in a landfill is estimated to take 1,000 years to breakdown. There is an estimated 75 to 199 million tons of plastic waste currently in our oceans, with a further 33 billion pounds of plastic entering the marine environment every single year. Ocean wildlife mistake plastic waste for prey. Unable to digest the plastic they eat, fish, turtles, and birds suffer internal injuries and starvation. A sperm whale that washed up at the Wakatobi National Park in Indonesia in December 2018 had more than a thousand pieces of plastic in its stomach.

When plastic biodegrades, it lingers in the environment as microplastics—tiny plastic particles less than five millimeters in size that make their way into water, farmland, and the food we eat. Studies have found that our personal annual consumption of microplastics is equivalent to eating 50 plastic bags per year or one credit card each week. The chemicals in these microplastics are linked to a bevy of health concerns, like reproductive problems, obesity, organ disease, developmental delays in children, and chronic inflammation.

Plastics sure are convenient. Just about everything—our breakfast yogurt, laundry detergent, shower gel, and ice cream—is neatly and durable packaged. But our dependence upon plastic is a problem for the planet, perilous to wildlife, and bad for our health. It’s a twenty-first century problem, yet I like to think that on this Care for Creation Sunday Jesus might have some first century wisdom to help us rethink our relationship with plastic.

In our reading from John’s gospel, Jesus characterized himself as the “good shepherd,” drawing upon a key metaphor from the Hebrew Bible. In Ezekiel 34, evil and corrupt kings were characterized as bad shepherds of the people, who ruled with force and harshness, scattering and destroying the flock. God promised to rescue the flock of Israel from their evil rulers. God would be Israel’s good shepherd. God would seek the lost, gather the scattered, and feed the people on rich pasture.

Jesus had seen some bad shepherding for the people of Israel. Herod Antipas, Herod Philip, and Pontius were all Roman appointed rulers. Their mission was to collect taxes to fill the emperor’s treasury and put down any whiff of rebellion. Instead of shepherding the people, they exploited them to line their own pockets and ensure their position and power. Even the chief priest in the temple was a Roman appointee, part of an elite class religious professionals who had controlled the worship life of Israel since the Roman invasion.

Jesus saw the suffering of his people at the hands of bad shepherds and longed to fulfill God’s plan to shepherd them. Jesus promised his friends “abundant” life. The Greek word that Jesus used for abundant is perisson. It means a life that is more, a life that is over and above what we have come to expect. An abundant life provides enough to meet our needs. Think of Jesus feeding the multitudes, welcoming outsiders, and healing the sick. Jesus’ abundance surpassed this, not in ways that would grant political power or bring fabulous wealth. Jesus wanted his followers to find more life, eternal life, in his Father’s Kingdom, a life that could not be bound by time or space or even death. Abundant life is blessed now as we live a balanced life with love for God and neighbor. Abundant life is blessed eternally as we anticipate that far brighter light on that far better shore. Abundant life is found in Christ the good shepherd.

One of the great challenges that we face in our world today is that we have forgotten what true abundance looks like. Jessica Maudlin, who heads the PCUSA’s Earth Care Congregations initiative and resources the ecumenical thinktank Creation Justice Ministries, cautions that we confuse true abundance with excess, with acquiring more stuff than we will ever use and consuming more than our world can sustain. Our excess is an idolatry that lulls us into thinking that we save ourselves when only God can do that. Our excess threatens the planet that has been entrusted to our care. Our excess is a failure to love our neighbors to come—the generations who must live with the legacy of what our excess leaves behind.

On this Care for Creation Sunday, Jesus might invite us to be reoriented, to trade our excess for his true abundance. It may not be easy. We begin by affirming that Jesus is our good shepherd, who has provided for us the blueprint for true abundance. As we rely upon the Lord instead of ourselves, we learn to shift our priorities from acquiring more and stockpiling excess to ensuring that there is enough for ourselves, our neighbors, and the wild world around us. We can follow Jesus by becoming better shepherds of our resources, so that the abundant life promised by the Lord is a promise for the planet and for generations to come.

I want to circle back to all those concerning facts about plastics that I mentioned at the start of this message because I think it’s a place where we need to—and can—make a difference. We can begin by reducing our plastic consumption. If you google the words “plastic footprint calculator,” you’ll find some useful web-based tools that will help you track how much plastic you use each year and guide you in thinking about ways to use less. Check it out. We can also purchase the new generation of bioplastics. Made from corn or bamboo, bioplastics are a little pricey, but they compost and biodegrade easily in landfills.

We can also move away from single-use plastics by reusing. Carry a water bottle or a reuseable coffee cup. Remember to keep a stash of cloth shopping bags in your car. Invest in a durable stainless-steel straw and skip the plastic straws used in convenience stores. Bring your own containers for leftovers when you dine out.

We can get better about recycling. Only 14% of plastics get recycled. You know what happens to the other 86%. Look for a trash service that recycles. Sort it yourself and make sure you get everything in the right receptacles at the transfer station. Did you know that you can now recycle plastic bags and wraps locally? The Women’s Civic Chamber is collecting clean, dry plastic bags. Partnering with Trex, a company that makes composite decking, they’ll turn our bags and wrappers into park benches. You can donate yours at collection bins at Nori’s, Woods and Waters, Kinney Drugs, and Harrietstown Town Hall. They started this in May and have already collected enough plastic—1,000 pounds—to make the first bench. Trex reclaims about a billion pounds of plastic each year.

We can also try removing the plastics that we find. Take a bag along on your neighborhood walk and pick up the trash. This morning as I took Gybi around the block, I picked up: a chip bag, a wrapper for Chips Ahoy, a single-use water bottle, a big bottle for Arnold Palmer (aka iced tea mixed with lemonade), a zip lock bag, a candy dispenser, and a plastic mini-basketball—and there were two plastic bags filled with poop from another dog (at least I hope it was a dog). If you are hitting the trail or paddling the waters, take care to ensure that everything that comes in with you goes back out—and pick up what others leave behind. And don’t forget that our fall highway clean-up will be scheduled in the coming weeks. We’ll be collecting trash along Rte. 186 in Lake Clear. There will be plenty of plastic: soda bottles, carry-out containers, masks, compact disks, diapers, and more. Sign up to help out and see who can collect the most plastic.

Well, my friends, an abundant life doesn’t need to include an abundance of plastic. It just needs the good shepherd. With our careful shepherding of resources, the abundant life promised by the Lord can be a promise for the planet and for generations to come. May it be so.

Resources

Aaron Marbone. “Building benches with plastic” in Adirondack Daily Enterprise, May 11, 2024. Accessed online at Building benches with plastic | News, Sports, Jobs – Adirondack Daily Enterprise

Jessica Maudlin, et al. “Plastic Jesus: Real Faith in a Synthetic World,” in Creation Justice Ministries, Earth Day Sunday 2024. Accessed online at Plastic Jesus – CREATION JUSTICE MINISTRIES

Statista. “Global Plastic Packaging Industry—statistics and facts.” Accessed online at statista.com

United Nations Environmental Program. “Our Planet Is Choking in Plastic,” an interactive  resource for individuals, schools, and teachers in UNEP Interactives, 2024. Accessed online at https://unep.org/interactives/beat-plastic-pollution.

–. Plastic Footprint Calculator. Plastic Bank. Accessed online at Plastic Footprint Calculator – Plastic Bank

John 10:7-10

7 So again Jesus said to them, “Very truly, I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep. 8 All who came before me are thieves and bandits, but the sheep did not listen to them. 9 I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved and will come in and go out and find pasture. 10 The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.

Photo by Catherine Sheila on Pexels.com

Come as a Child

/ reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Come as a Child” Mark 9:30-37

Perhaps the only positive outcome of the COVID-19 pandemic was a temporary decrease in the number of American children living in poverty. Federal economic security programs kept 53 million people above the poverty line in both 2020 and 2021. Child tax credits, increased food assistance, the extension of unemployment benefits, and three rounds of stimulus checks drove child poverty down to an all-time low of 5.2%. With the expiration of these programs in 2022, child poverty was again on the rise. According to the Annie E. Casie Foundation, 16% of American children now live in poverty. That’s 11.6 million kids. New York’s child poverty rates are among the worst in the nation. We rank forty-first out of the fifty states.

The likelihood of child poverty is higher here in the North Country. In Franklin County, 21.3% of our children live in poverty. Those numbers are higher for families of color. About 32% of racial ethnic children live below the federal poverty line. The impact of child poverty can last a lifetime. Impoverished families have less access to healthy food and quality medical care. A poverty diet is high in processed foods, fat, and carbohydrates. That’s a recipe for childhood obesity. Children in poverty are more likely to live in substandard housing, experience homelessness, and be exposed to crime and substance abuse in at-risk neighborhoods. Children in poverty have lower readiness when entering school and are more likely to have developmental challenges. Families in poverty live in chronic stress that leaves kids feeling anxious, depressed, and frightened.

When we further consider families who work in low wage jobs that lift them above the federal poverty threshold but don’t pay enough to meet monthly expenses, then we begin to see the enormity of the child poverty crisis. The Ouimette family of AuSable Forks is a case in point. William works for the town of Jay’s highway department and also serves as a volunteer firefighter. Miranda is a stay-at-home mom to their three kids between the ages of 6 and 9. William says, “It’s harder and harder for people just to get by on a job like working for the state or the town or anything now.” The Ouimettes struggle to pay for essential things like car repairs and new items for their kids. They fear they will be priced out of the home where their family has resided for generations.

Child poverty is nothing new. In Jesus’ day, 90% of people lived in poverty with little resource for rising above the circumstance of their birth. Within that impoverished time, children were particularly vulnerable. They were considered the lowest status members of society. Children lacked legal standing and protection as individuals and were instead deemed the property of their fathers. Indeed, children could be sold into slavery to settle a father’s debts. Although children were seen as a gift from God, a safeguard against extreme poverty in old age, children were expected to be unconditionally obedient and subject to the strict discipline of parents. The Book of Proverbs instructs, “Those who spare the rod hate their children, but those who love them are diligent to discipline them.” According to Exodus and Leviticus, the punishment for children who curse their parents or fail to honor them was death – judgment and stoning by the community. In the Gentile world, unwanted newborns were routinely exposed, left out in the open to die—or to be taken in by strangers and raised as slaves or prostitutes.

Given the low standing of children in the disciples’ world, we can imagine the shock that they felt when Jesus placed a child among them as someone to be welcomed and emulated. In today’s gospel reading, Jesus warned his friends of the suffering and death that would await him in Jerusalem. But along the way to Capernaum, instead of discussing better ways to protect Jesus and guard against betrayal, the twelve argued about who among them was the greatest. They compared genealogies and miracles, sermons and bank accounts, patrons and illustrious acquaintances, all in an effort to assert their personal worth. That child that Jesus held in his arms didn’t make any sense. Why would Jesus identify with a child? Why would he expect them to welcome and serve the lowest status person in the room?

Biblical scholar J.D.M. Derrett says that when Jesus scooped the little child up in his arms, Jesus was engaging in a symbolic act. In the Hebrew tradition, receiving or placing someone else’s child on your knee or in your embrace in front of the witnessing community was a rite of adoption.  We see this in the Book of Genesis, when the childless Sarah and Rebecca brought their servant women to their husbands to conceive children, insisting that those children would be born “on their knees” as rightful sons of the patriarchs. If J.D.M. Derrett is right, then Jesus was saying that the most vulnerable of people, like children, especially belong to Jesus. The disciples could not love and honor him without loving and honoring them.

Beyond that simple call to humble service, Jesus was reminding his friends, many of whom had left their families behind to follow him, that he had adopted them. They were his children. As his sons and daughters, they must demonstrate toward him the obedience, honor, and respect that they would a father. The disciples were meant to be brothers and sisters in Jesus’ family, not rivals for greatness. That tender embrace that the child found in Jesus’ arms reflected the love and support that the disciples found in Christ, who welcomed them, not because of their great achievements, but simply because he chose to love them, regardless of their status. In that unconditional love, they would find the courage and inspiration to be servants of all.

As messages go, today’s reading is clear. The “least of these” are deserving of the service and welcome that we would extend to the Lord. When we see vulnerable neighbors, we are to think of Jesus, responding with the sort of compassion and care that were the hallmark of Jesus’ earthly ministry. Beyond that, Jesus would have his followers see that in God’s Kingdom there is no us and them—no low-status children and high-status disciples. Rather, we are all God’s children. The social and psychological constructs that we create to assert our greatness—that separate rich from poor, have from have-nots, first world from third world—those constructs are false dichotomies. We are kin, all children of an infinitely loving God. We belong to one another, just as we belong to God.

If the pandemic taught us anything, it is that we can end childhood poverty. If we can lower the rate of childhood poverty to 5.2% in only two years, imagine what we could do if people really cared, if we had public policy that regarded vulnerable children the way that Jesus embraced that child. There is enough. We just lack the social and political will to make a lasting difference in the lives of families who need it most. We do not believe that every child is deserving of unconditional love and welcome. We pitch a paltry ten percent of our federal budget at programs that address poverty while income inequality in our nation—the gap between rich and poor—grows and grows and grows. Lord, have mercy upon us.

Jesus thinks his disciples can do better. We can do better. He imagines a world where no child lives in poverty. It’s a world where our most vulnerable neighbors are known and held, blessed and helped. It’s a world where disciples realize that true greatness is found not in our professional titles or advanced degrees, not in our big bank accounts or public accolades, not in our athletic prowess or our physical beauty. It’s a world where the greatest of all are servants of all. It’s a world that looks a lot like his Father’s Kingdom. He hopes that we will imagine that world, too. May it be so.

Resources

Danilo Trisi. “Government’s Pandemic Response Turned a Would-Be Poverty Surge into a Record Poverty Decline” in Center on Budget and Policy Priorities Reports, August 29, 2023. Accessed online at Government’s Pandemic Response Turned a Would-Be Poverty Surge Into a Record Poverty Decline | Center on Budget and Policy Priorities (cbpp.org)

Alek LaShomb. “Efforts to Address Child Poverty in New York’s North Country” in WCAX News, June 14, 2024. Accessed online at Efforts to address child poverty in New York’s North Country (wcax.com)

Courtney V. Buggs. “Commentary on Mark 9:30-37” in Preaching This Week, Sept. 22, 2024. Accessed online at Commentary on Mark 9:30-37 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Micah D. Kiel. “Commentary on Mark 9:30-37” in Preaching This Week, Sept. 20, 2015. Accessed online at Commentary on Mark 9:30-37 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

C. Clifton Black. “Commentary on Mark 9:30-37” in Preaching This Week, Sept. 19, 2021. Accessed online at Commentary on Mark 9:30-37 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Thomas P. Napoli. “New York Children in Need,” a report of the Office of the NYS Comptroller, May 2024. Accessed online at Report Titl (ny.gov)

Mark 9:30-37

30 They went on from there and passed through Galilee. He did not want anyone to know it, 31 for he was teaching his disciples, saying to them, “The Son of Man is to be betrayed into human hands, and they will kill him, and three days after being killed, he will rise again.” 32 But they did not understand what he was saying and were afraid to ask him. 33 Then they came to Capernaum, and when he was in the house he asked them, “What were you arguing about on the way?” 34 But they were silent, for on the way they had argued with one another who was the greatest. 35 He sat down, called the twelve, and said to them, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” 36 Then he took a little child and put it among them, and taking it in his arms he said to them, 37 “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.”

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Speech Pathology (Taming the Tongue)

/ reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Speech Pathology” James 3:1-12

In the weekly Blast, I asked, “What is the most powerful part of the body?” Is it our brawny biceps? Our muscular legs that run up mountains? Our broad backs that shoulder heavy loads? According to the Apostle James, the most powerful part of the body is the tongue.

James may have a point. A review of 166 studies on the impact of verbal abuse on children found that the words of parents can have negative consequences that last a lifetime. Children who experience yelling, threats, belittling, humiliation, and name calling at home may be plagued by depression, aggression, conduct disorders, and anger. They are more likely to be abusive with siblings and other children and act out with delinquent behaviors at school and in community.   Verbal abuse has lasting impact upon a child’s health with increased rates of substance abuse, eating disorders, obesity, and heart disease.

Beyond the family, words can shape how we feel about our neighbors. With the rise of immigration to the United States from the Mediterranean, eastern Europe, and Asia in the late 19th century, there was a rise in anti-immigrant hate speech. Political pundits and yellow journalists alleged that these new arrivals were taking American jobs. They advanced false theories that immigrants were intellectually inferior, subhuman, criminal. In 1891 when the Chief of Police in New Orleans was found dead, the local immigrant community was blamed. Nineteen Sicilian-Americans were put on trial. Although they were found innocent, an angry mob of 10,000 broke into the jail, dragged eleven of the men from their cells, and lynched them.

In this digital age, our words can have far-reaching impact and destructive outcomes as misinformation, fake news, and big lies flood cyberspace. During the 2020 election cycle, Russian trolls sought to amplify mistrust in the American electoral process. They denigrated mail-in-voting, alleged irregularities in local elections, and made false accusations of voter fraud. These false claims were picked up by some mainstream media outlets. The goal of the Russians was to suppress voter turn-out, sow anxiety and distrust, and call into question our free and fair elections. It worked. In 2022, 56% of respondents to a CNN poll indicated that they have “little or no confidence” that elections represent the will of the people.

According to the Apostle James, the destructive power of the tongue is nothing new. Writing to first-century Christians across the Roman Empire, James compared our tongues to bits that control horses, rudders that guide sailing ships, and flames that can ignite a major conflagration. Bit, rudder, flame, the tongue. These little things can have dramatic impact for good or evil. It all depends on how you choose to use them.

James was revisiting and expanding an earlier teaching of his big brother Jesus. In the twelfth chapter of Matthew’s gospel, Jesus challenged his critics among the Pharisees: “How can you speak good things when you are evil?  For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks.  The good person brings good things out of a good treasure, and the evil person brings evil things out of an evil treasure.  I tell you, on the day of judgment you will have to give an account for every careless word you utter; for by your words, you will be justified, and by your words, you will be condemned.”  Jesus understood that our words reveal our character, shape our lives in community, and impact our eternal relationship with God.

When James wrote his warning about the destructive power of the tongue, he had seen first-hand the consequences of irresponsible, manipulative, and destructive words. James had seen families torn apart as Israel’s traditionalists denigrated and rejected their Christian kin. James had witnessed false teachers who tried to convince Christians that they must undergo circumcision and observe the Torah. He had also seen angry and destructive words used to inspire anti-Christian persecution. James himself walked with a permanent limp from injuries he sustained when an angry mob, opposed to his gospel teaching, attacked him in the Temple. They severely beat him, threw him down a flight of stairs, and left him for dead. We can understand why James taught, “the tongue is placed among our members as a world of iniquity; it stains the whole body, sets on fire the cycle of life, and is itself set on fire by hell.”

James’ strong words and bold images are enough to make us bite our tongues. But I don’t believe that the apostle wanted to silence us. Rather, James hoped that his readers would use their words responsibly as sound teachers and good neighbors. After all, the tongue can tap into the good treasure of a faithful heart to create, build up, heal, and redeem. In Genesis, God is described as speaking the world into creation. “Let there be light!” In the prologue to John’s gospel, Jesus is described as the Word—God’s Word—made flesh, full of grace and truth, sent into the world to save it. Our words can be destructive, and yet they can also be powerfully good, constructive, faithful, and loving. We can build up what has been torn down.

If verbal abuse can undermine a child, then a judicious use of praise can build them up. Studies have found that a single word, like “Wow!”, or even a gesture, like a high five, can make kids feel good about themselves. Sincere praise can motivate a child to persevere in a tough task and inspire them to learn pro-social behaviors like helping, collaborating, and sharing positive feedback with others. Children who receive appropriate praise for hard work and progress are more likely to develop healthy self-esteem and less likely to suffer from depression.

What we have to say can also play a powerful role in building bridges in communities. We can counteract anti-immigrant hate speech by pointing to real-life examples, like our neighbors in Utica where 17,000 refugees have been resettled since 1979. Today, one in five Uticans is a refugee or child of refugees. They have come from all over the world: Myanmar, Afghanistan, Ukraine, Cambodia, Vietnam, the Balkans, and more. Downtown Utica is filled with international restaurants, churches, community centers, and businesses. The influx of immigrants has been credited with saving the dying rustbelt community. Filmmaker Loch Pillipps, who made the documentary film “Utica: The Last Refuge,” says, “There’s a big passion gap on this issue [of immigration]. The minority of people in this country who are against refugee resettlement are super loud. This is a really industrious population that figures out how to fix places up and make the community better. They saved this town.”

In the lead up to the contentious 2024 election, the words of the Apostle James are an encouragement to use our own words judiciously. That begins by learning from responsible journalism and not social media. In talking to those whose opinions may differ from our own, we can stick to facts and have responsible discussions that include listening as well as sharing our opinions. We can refrain from malicious gossip that vilifies those who disagree with us. We can let our votes do the talking, trusting that, despite what the Russians might have us believe, we live in the greatest democracy in the world where every vote counts. My friend the Rev. Scott Paul-Bonham cautions that we should also remember that in this highly divisive political climate, close to half of Americans will be greatly disappointed when the dust settles on the 2024 election. Can we respond to their despair with compassion, reaching out with kind words that build bridges and remind us that we belong to one another? It might sound like a difficult challenge, but I suspect that the Apostle James and his brother Jesus would tell us that we are up to it.

In the year before Roman soldiers destroyed the Jerusalem Temple, James was hauled before a kangaroo court by his opponents and ordered to deny the gospel. Knowing that he had at last come to the end of his journey, the aging, lame apostle shared the good news for the last time before being put to the sword. It is said that, even as he faced death, James spoke with such integrity and loving conviction that many who heard came to believe. Amen.

Resources

Gwen Dewar. “The effects of praise on kids: 10 Evidence-based tips for better outcomes” in Parenting Science, 2024. Accessed online at https://parentingscience.com/effects-of-praise/.

Gabriel R. Sanchez and Keesha Middlemass. “Misinformation is eroding the public’s confidence in democracy” in The Brookings Institute: Governance Studies Media Office, July 26, 2022. Accessed online at Misinformation is eroding the public’s confidence in democracy (brookings.edu)

Jules Struck. “‘They saved this town’: Refugees poured into Utica and cleared the rust from a dying industrial city” in Syracuse Magazine, May 27, 2022. Accessed online at ‘They saved this town’: Refugees poured into Utica and cleared the rust from a dying industrial city – syracuse.com

The Bronfenbrenner Center (Cornell University). “The Long-Term Underappreciated Damage of Verbal Abuse” in Psychology Today, October 10, 2023. Accessed online at https://www.psychologytoday.com

Library of Congress. “Under Attack: Immigration and Relocation in United States History” Classroom Materials. Accessed online at  Under Attack | Italian | Immigration and Relocation in U.S. History | Classroom Materials at the Library of Congress | Library of Congress

James Boyce. “Commentary on James 3:1-12” in Preaching This Week, Sept. 13, 2015. Accessed online at Commentary on James 3:1-12 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Margaret Aymer. “Commentary on James 3:1-12” in Preaching This Week, Sept. 16, 2018. Accessed online at Commentary on James 3:1-12 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Sandra Hack Polaski. “Commentary on James 3:1-12” in Preaching This Week, Sept. 16, 2012. Accessed online at Commentary on James 3:1-12 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

James 3:1-12

3 Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers and sisters, for you know that we who teach will face stricter judgment. 2 For all of us make many mistakes. Anyone who makes no mistakes in speaking is mature, able to keep the whole body in check with a bridle. 3 If we put bits into the mouths of horses to make them obey us, we guide their whole bodies. 4 Or look at ships: though they are so large and are driven by strong winds, yet they are guided by a very small rudder wherever the will of the pilot directs. 5 So also the tongue is a small member, yet it boasts of great exploits.

How great a forest is set ablaze by a such a small fire! 6 And the tongue is a fire. The tongue is placed among our members as a world of iniquity; it stains the whole body, sets on fire the cycle of life, and is itself set on fire by hell. 7 For every species of beast and bird, of reptile and sea creature, can be tamed and has been tamed by the human species, 8 but no one can tame the tongue—a restless evil, full of deadly poison. 9 With it we bless the Lord and Father, and with it we curse people, made in the likeness of God. 10 From the same mouth comes a blessing and a curse. My brothers and sisters, this ought not to be so. 11 Does a spring pour forth from the same opening both fresh and brackish water? 12 Can a fig tree, my brothers and sisters, yield olives or a grapevine figs? No more can salt water yield fresh.

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

Be Opened

/ reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Be Opened” Mark 7:24-37

When I came to Saranac Lake in January 2005, we needed a new sign for the church. The old sign was made many years ago by Skip’s Dad. The wooden boards were lovingly hand-routed and painted. But too many Adirondack winters had taken their toll. Session debated the size, shape, and color of the replacement sign. But what inspired most discussion was the message we included, which felt a little radical at the time, “All are welcome.”

When session decided to broadcast that message, we were remembering the years of conflict that we were leaving behind. We wanted to send a hopeful, healing message to the community, a message to inspire those who felt a little like outsiders to come on in. I know that it worked on at least one occasion. One Sunday, a couple of out-of-town visitors in full motorcycle gear joined us for worship. They wore black jackets, chaps, and big motorcycle boots. The back pew had never seen so much leather.  In visiting with them after the service, they said that they had wanted to go to church somewhere in Saranac Lake but felt a little uncomfortable about their appearance. They finally decided that any church that put “All are welcome” on the sign was their best bet for warm hospitality. I hope that we lived up to their expectations.

In Jesus’ day, religious traditionalists had strong opinions about who was and was not welcome, not only in church but also in God’s Kingdom. Mark’s seventh chapter explores this question of God’s acceptance and welcome. In the verses leading up to today’s reading, Jesus was under attack by the Pharisees and scribes. Those religious traditionalists looked at Jesus’ disciples, saw their failure to observe rituals of purity, like handwashing before eating, and decided that neither the disciples nor Jesus was holy enough. In their opinion, failure to keep the traditions of the elders rendered the disciples unclean and unwelcome in the eyes of God.

In some of the boldest teaching of his ministry, Jesus denounced this narrow-minded belief. Jesus argued that it is what comes out of a person that separates them from God and neighbor. God was less concerned about handwashing or a kosher diet and more concerned about idolatry, adultery, theft, hypocrisy, slander, and malice.

The two encounters in today’s gospel reading probably stretched even Jesus’ understanding of God’s welcome. After his clash with his opponents, Jesus withdrew to the seaside city of Tyre beyond the Galilee, seeking a quiet place to pray and find refreshment. But the word soon got out. It wasn’t long before there was a knock on the door. Jesus was beseeched for healing, and he wasn’t very happy about it.

The woman who implored Jesus to heal her child had three strikes against her.  She was a Gentile, outside the covenant between God and Israel. Not only was she a Gentile, she was the worst sort of Gentile—a Syro-Phoenician. The evilest woman in the Hebrew scriptures, Jezebel, was a Syro-Phoenician princess who brought idolatry and immorality to the reign of her Israelite husband King Ahab. What’s even worse, this woman was flouting the bounds of good behavior. In a time and place when women didn’t speak to men outside their family, she was on her knees, imploring a strange man to do her a favor. Utterly scandalous!  Jesus had every reason to say, “No.” Indeed, the Pharisees and scribes, with whom Jesus had recently argued, would have congratulated him on his good judgment. When Jesus called the woman a “dog,” he sounded a lot more like them than he did like the Jesus we know and love. Didn’t he?

The gospel might have stayed good news only for Jews if the Syro-Phoenician woman hadn’t challenged Jesus. She demanded just a few crumbs of God’s welcome for Gentile dogs, like her sick child. In response, we glimpse a shift in Jesus’ understanding. He sees that, in his Father’s Kingdom, this woman didn’t belong under the table, begging for table scraps. In his Father’s Kingdom, she had a place at the table, alongside the children of Israel. The proof of Jesus’ insight came immediately. Jesus blessed her for her bold speech, in Greek—her logos, her word, her wisdom—and he sent her home. There she found her child waiting, right as rain.

Perhaps Jesus struggled with the boldness of God’s welcome because he soon encountered another healing request that would have been out-of-bounds for scribes and Pharisees. As Jesus returned to Galilee, he traveled through the Decapolis, the ten city-states to the east of the sea.  These communities, planted three hundred years earlier when Alexander the Great claimed Israel for his empire, were largely Gentile and culturally Greek. When those Greek neighbors brought to Jesus a man who was hearing- and speech-impaired, Jesus didn’t rebuke them or call them dogs. Instead, the suffering man got a private audience. There was touching and spitting, speaking and sighing. Jesus’ word, “Ephphatha”—be opened—may have been part of the man’s healing experience, but perhaps it was also part of Jesus’ own healing experience—and a calling to all who would be his followers. “Ephphatha”—be opened. Don’t build fences or set limits on God’s love.

Mark’s seventh chapter is a great comfort to us. We, who have lived enough or have the depth of faith to acknowledge our personal sinfulness and brokenness, can rejoice in the promise that God loves and welcomes us, despite our painful pasts and our present mistakes. We are welcome, and there isn’t anything that we can do that will render us unlovable or irredeemable. Jesus has done the hard work on the cross so that even though our sins abound, his righteousness prevails. There is a place for us at the table. Thank you, Lord.

Yet Mark’s seventh chapter is a challenge to us. Part of our human sinfulness is that we always want to draw lines, create in-groups and out-groups. We see it in high school cliques. We see it in partisan politics. We even see it in our penchant to form factions within churches or denominations. There lurks within each of us the scribe or Pharisee, who keeps watch, rushes to judgment, and wants to limit God’s love. Today’s reading suggests that God invites us to get over ourselves and get out of God’s way so that healing may abound. God’s great longing is for a church and a world where no one feels like they have to beg for table scraps when it comes to God’s love and mercy.

I’m not sure that when session approved the words, “All are welcome,” for the sign out front that we thought we were making a bold theological statement, right out of the seventh chapter of Mark’s gospel. We just wanted folks to worship with us. We may have even wanted to send a friendly message to those who had left us, with whom we had quarreled so bitterly in the dark, divided days of our past. But perhaps when we chose that message, God was working on us. God was summoning us to open up, to see the immensity of God’s love and welcome.

I suspect that if Jesus were sitting in the back pew today, wearing his motorcycle leathers, he would remind us that God isn’t finished with us. There are other people out there whom God calls us to welcome, folks who will test our limits and make us feel uncomfortable. I bet they will have tattoos and body piercings. They’ll probably love people whom we don’t think they should love. I imagine that some of them will be developmentally disabled or mentally ill or physically impaired. They’ll probably have big, obnoxious placards in their front yards for candidates from that other political party. They’ll drive gas-guzzling Cadillac Escalades or energy-efficient Teslas. They’ll stand in line in front of us at Stewart’s and make us wait while they buy cigarettes and a billion lottery tickets. The’ll stumble up Broadway after a long night at the Rusty Nail.

Be opened, my friends. God’s love is bigger than we can imagine.

Resources

Alyce McKenzie. “Commentary on Mark 7:24-37” in Preaching This Week, Sept. 6, 2009. Accessed online at Commentary on Mark 7:24-37 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Matt Skinner. “Commentary on Mark 7:24-37” in Preaching This Week, Sept. 9, 2012. Accessed online at Commentary on Mark 7:24-37 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

C. Clifton Black. “Commentary on Mark 7:24-37” in Preaching This Week, Sept. 5, 2012. Accessed online at Commentary on Mark 7:24-37 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Courtney V. Buggs. “Commentary on Mark 7:24-37” in Preaching This Week, Sept. 8, 2024. Accessed online at Commentary on Mark 7:24-37 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Joann White. “Everyone Gets Healed,” Sept. 9, 2012.

Mark 7:24-37

24 From there he set out and went away to the region of Tyre. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know he was there. Yet he could not escape notice, 25 but a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit immediately heard about him, and she came and bowed down at his feet. 26 Now the woman was a gentile, of Syrophoenician origin. She begged him to cast the demon out of her daughter. 27 He said to her, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” 28 But she answered him, “Sir, even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” 29 Then he said to her, “For saying that, you may go—the demon has left your daughter.” 30 And when she went home, she found the child lying on the bed and the demon gone.

31 Then he returned from the region of Tyre and went by way of Sidon toward the Sea of Galilee, in the region of the Decapolis. 32 They brought to him a deaf man who had an impediment in his speech, and they begged him to lay his hand on him. 33 He took him aside in private, away from the crowd, and put his fingers into his ears, and he spat and touched his tongue. 34 Then looking up to heaven, he sighed and said to him, “Ephphatha,” that is, “Be opened.” 35 And his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly. 36 Then Jesus ordered them to tell no one, but the more he ordered them, the more zealously they proclaimed it. 37 They were astounded beyond measure, saying, “He has done everything well; he even makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak.”

Photo by Kevin Bidwell on Pexels.com

The Reckoning

/ reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The Reckoning” 2 Sam. 11:26-12:13a

We are constantly judging others. It is part of how we are hardwired as human beings, a legacy of the days when determining the safety or danger of any given situation could mean the difference between life and death. Researchers at Dartmouth and New York Universities determined that the human brain begins to label people as trustworthy or untrustworthy in a split second, even before we have time to consciously analyze what we see.

Our natural tendency to judge others is further shaped by our context. Children raised in families with critical parents learn to judge, sorting people into a ranked hierarchy from excellent to good to adequate to “you should be embarrassed by that effort.” Similarly, students, who cut their teeth in hyper-competitive schools and universities, can be ruthless in assigning value to the efforts of their classmates. We want that gold star for ourselves.

Psychologists suggest that our innate need to judge finds further reinforcement from the mental payoff that we reap. Finding others inadequate boosts our own sense of self-esteem and competency. We think, “At least I’m better than that!” Carl Jung, whose work was so formative for analytical psychology, formulated that there is a deeper and darker motivation behind our need to judge. Jung argued that we refuse to see what we do not like about ourselves, but at a deeper level, we still need to deal with those qualities and actions. So, we project those flaws onto others. We dislike and even hate in others that part of ourselves that we have denied and disowned.

In our reading from 2 Samuel, King David rushed to judgment when the Prophet Nathan told him a story of injustice. Last week, we heard the story of David’s abuse of power. While the armies of Israel waged war against the Ammonites, David stayed home and got up to no good. First, he violated and impregnated Bathsheba. Then, he had her husband Uriah murdered to cover up the sin. As today’s reading began, David thought all the mischief had been managed. He had even appeared generous and magnanimous by taking the widowed Bathsheba into the royal household and making her a wife.

There was only one problem—and it was a big one. God was a witness. God knew that the king had coveted his neighbor’s wife, committed adultery, borne false witness, and staged a murder. God didn’t like what God had seen, so a holy messenger, the Prophet Nathan, was called to confront David with his sin.

It was deftly done. David as king spent part of his day hearing the disputes of his people and rendering judgments. Nathan stood in line in the judgment hall and waited. When his turn came, he told a sad story of the abuse of power. We heard it—the rich man stole and killed the beloved pet of his impoverished neighbor without a second thought to the lamb’s suffering or the neighbor’s grief. David, who had not acknowledged the abuse and injustice of his own actions, rushed to judgment as he heard those actions attributed to another. “This man deserves to die!” the king proclaimed, unwittingly passing judgment on himself.

It’s a story that makes us want to pass our own judgments. How disappointed we are in David, who has proven that he is just as capable of misusing his authority as the last king, Saul. It’s a story that uncomfortably reveals that David is both sinner and saint. He is a rapist, murderer, liar, and predator. Yet, David is also Israel’s champion, a war hero, a poet, the anointed one, and a man with a heart for God. Humanity is complex, with the potential for so much good—and so much evil. It’s a fact that undergirds the salvation story of scripture. It stretches from God’s warning to Cain in the Garden of Eden, saying, “Sin is at your door. Its desire is to master you, but you must rule over it” (Gen. 4:7). It stretches to the cross, where Jesus took on the sin of the world so that we could be reconciled to God and one another. We are all sinners and saints.

David’s response to the parable of the ewe lamb reflects his inability to see and accept his own moral failure. We, too, find it easier to see the sins of others than to recognize our own faults. We lament and demonstrate against the humanitarian crisis in Gaza even as we arm the Israeli Defense Force. We rail against illegal immigration at our southern border even as we tank bi-partisan efforts to address the problem. We judge our neighbor’s addiction to drugs or alcohol while we soothe our anxiety with too much food or pornography or shopping ‘til we drop. Everyone is a judge. Everyone is a critic. Everyone has an inner troll, waiting to drop the bomb of condemnation on anyone other than ourselves. There’s a reason that Jesus cautioned the Pharisees when they judged his ministry and his disciples, saying that they would be better served attending to the plank in their own eye than casting aspersions against the crumb in the eye of their neighbor.

Nathan’s parable serves as a reminder that, not only are we sinner and saint, not only are we more eager to judge the fault of others than to confess our own failings, but we are also all subject to holy judgment. It’s a disquieting contention of scripture that there will be a Day of Judgment when we will be deemed sheep or goats, saints or sinners. David thought the mischief was managed. We think no one knows our sin. But God sees and God knows. In fact, our sins against one another are also sins against God. Nathan said it best in telling David, “Why have you despised the word of the Lord?” Indeed, according to the Ten Commandments, David’s sins of adultery and murder were a violation of Israel’s covenant with God and punishable by death. David knew this. That’s why when he was publicly confronted with his crimes, he confessed, “I have sinned against the Lord.” He threw himself upon the mercy of his eternal judge.

There is a lot of bad news in our scripture today: we are all both sinners and saints, we judge others and fail to accept our shortcomings, and we will one day face judgment. And yet there is good news. The good news is that God is merciful and abounding in steadfast love. When David finally faced facts, Nathan offered God’s mercy, saying, “God has taken away your sin; you will not die.” There would, of course, be consequences that sprang from David’s unjust actions. We all know what it is like to face the music of owning up to what we have done, whether we want to or not. Yet we can trust that God chooses to forgive. There is mercy for us.

We, who are hardwired to judge and have painfully experienced the judgment of others, struggle to trust in the mercy of our God. That steadfast love only becomes real for us when we remember what God has done for us in Jesus of Nazareth. The life of Jesus is an extended metaphor for the limitless love and incomparable mercy of God. In Jesus, we know that God loves us enough to become flesh, live among us, and teach us the better way of the kingdom. In Jesus, we learned that God loves us enough to generously forgive frail disciples, formidable opponents, and even the executioners who nailed him to a cross and gambled for his clothes. Who is in a position to condemn us? Only Jesus. As we celebrate the Lord’s Supper today and partake of the body and blood of our Lord, we remember that God would sooner die than be parted from us. The mercy of our Lord abounds for us. Thanks be to God.

Perhaps we come closest to Jesus and to embodying his Kingdom when we dare to allow God’s mercy to flow through us to others. When we rise above our instinct to judge, when we stop projecting onto others what we loathe in ourselves, when we understand that we are all in need of a savior, it is then that the Kingdom comes alive in life changing ways. We find the wherewithal to truly love our neighbor, and we place our hearts on the altar of God’s love where we are helped and healed and made new. May we go forth to love more and to judge less.

Resources

Dana Harron. “Why Do We Judge Other People?” in Psychology Today, Oct. 21, 2021. Accessed online at https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/living-eating-disorders/202110/why-do-we-judge-other-people

Visweswaran Balasubramanian. “Psychology of Judging – what it reveals about us” in Linked In Pulse, Dec. 8, 2020. Accessed online at https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/psychology-judging-what-reveals-us-visweswaran-balasubramanian/

Dhuvra Koranne. “The Psychology of Judging Others” in Mind Voyage, Nov. 8, 2023. Accessed online at The Psychology of Judging Others | Mind Voyage

Alexandra Sifferlin. “Our Brains Immediately Judge People” in Time Magazine, August 6, 2014. Accessed online at https://time.com/3083667/brain-trustworthiness/

Ted A. Smith. “Commentary on 2 Sam. 11:26-12:13a” in Preaching This Week, August 2, 2009. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 11:26—12:13a – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Ralph Klein. “Commentary on 2 Sam. 11:26-12:13a” in Preaching This Week, August 2, 2015. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 11:26—12:13a – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Roger Nam. “Commentary on 2 Sam. 11:26-12:13a” in Preaching This Week, August 4, 2024. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 11:26—12:13a – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

2 Samuel 11:26—12:13a

26When the wife of Uriah heard that her husband was dead, she made lamentation for him. 27When the mourning was over, David sent and brought her to his house, and she became his wife, and bore him a son. But the thing that David had done displeased the Lord,

12and the Lord sent Nathan to David. He came to him, and said to him, “There were two men in a certain city, the one rich and the other poor. 2The rich man had very many flocks and herds; 3but the poor man had nothing but one little ewe lamb, which he had bought. He brought it up, and it grew up with him and with his children; it used to eat of his meager fare, and drink from his cup, and lie in his bosom, and it was like a daughter to him. 4Now there came a traveler to the rich man, and he was loath to take one of his own flock or herd to prepare for the wayfarer who had come to him, but he took the poor man’s lamb, and prepared that for the guest who had come to him.” 5Then David’s anger was greatly kindled against the man. He said to Nathan, “As the Lord lives, the man who has done this deserves to die; 6he shall restore the lamb fourfold, because he did this thing, and because he had no pity.” 7Nathan said to David, “You are the man! Thus says the Lord, the God of Israel: I anointed you king over Israel, and I rescued you from the hand of Saul; 8I gave you your master’s house, and your master’s wives into your bosom, and gave you the house of Israel and of Judah; and if that had been too little, I would have added as much more. 9Why have you despised the word of the Lord, to do what is evil in his sight? You have struck down Uriah the Hittite with the sword, and have taken his wife to be your wife, and have killed him with the sword of the Ammonites. 10Now therefore the sword shall never depart from your house, for you have despised me, and have taken the wife of Uriah the Hittite to be your wife. 11Thus says the Lord: I will raise up trouble against you from within your own house; and I will take your wives before your eyes, and give them to your neighbor, and he shall lie with your wives in the sight of this very sun. 12For you did it secretly; but I will do this thing before all Israel, and before the sun.” 13David said to Nathan, “I have sinned against the Lord.” Nathan said to David, “Now the Lord has put away your sin; you shall not die.

Photo by Alesia Kozik on Pexels.com

The Tangled Web

/ reverendjoannwhite / 1 Comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “The Tangled Web” 2 Samuel 11:1-15

The abuse of power is the misuse of our authority. We may oppress other people or coerce them to do wrong. It can happen in politics, in the workplace, or even in our own homes. The 18th century French philosopher Montesquieu, who was the first to formulate the separation of powers in government, once wrote, “Constant experience shows us that every man invested with power is apt to abuse it, and to carry his authority as far as it will go.”

On the American political front, perhaps the most notorious late-twentieth-century example of abuse of power was Watergate. In 1972, President Richard Nixon and his reelection committee engaged in illegal clandestine operations and got caught. On June 17th of that year, five burglars were arrested by plainclothes police officers in the Democratic National Headquarters on the sixth floor of the Watergate office building. The team was planting listening devices and photographing files. In the investigation that followed, forty government officials were indicted. Eight went to jail, including White House staff members HR Haldeman and John Erlichman, as well as Attorney General John Mitchell. When tape recordings linked the President to the burglary and cover-up, Nixon resigned, saying that he no longer had “a strong enough political base” with which to govern.

Power is abused in the workplace. 41.4% of workers say that they have experienced psychological aggression and bullying on the job. We’ve had bosses who intentionally embarrass workers, mock their mistakes, spread stories, shout, blame, and threaten. It may go so far as sabotaging someone’s career or manipulating co-workers to join in the abuse, creating a toxic workplace. Does any of this sound uncomfortably familiar? In one study, more than half of women reported that they have been victims of unwanted sexual behavior at work. That’s an unfortunate reality that was long kept quiet until the #MeToo movement made it headline news. Powerful people in the entertainment industry, like Harvey Weinstein and Bill Cosby, have lost high-profile court cases for sexually exploiting vulnerable women.

Our scripture reading this morning is all about the abuse of power. When the Israelites demanded a king, God warned them of the consequences (1 Sam. 8). Sounding a lot like Montesquieu, God had cautioned that a king would lord it over them: take their sons and deploy them in endless battles, take their daughters “to become perfumers, cooks, and bakers,” take the best of their harvest, vineyards, slaves, and livestock. Despite this, the people clamored for a king to rule over them. Things hadn’t gone so well with the first king, Saul, but then Samuel anointed David, the shepherd boy with a heart for God.

At first, it seemed that the Lord had been overly pessimistic about human nature. David proved his loyalty to Israel and God. He defeated Goliath. He led the Israelite troops in their defeat of their enemies. He lamented the deaths of Saul and Jonathan. He earned the loyalty and respect of all twelve tribes. He sang and danced with holy joy before the Ark of the Covenant.

Yet as our reading begins, we encounter a middle-aged David. The bored king used his royal privilege to remain behind while Joab and the army lay siege to Rabbah. Unable to sleep, David spent an evening spying on his neighbors from the roof of his palace. He saw a young woman, Bathsheba, engaged in the ritual bath of purification that was practiced by observant women after their monthly cycle. Enthralled by Bathsheba’s beauty, the king sent guards to bring her to the palace where he sexually exploited her and then threw her away, sending her back to home.  David believed that his power and her shame would force her to keep the secret of his abuse. When the violated Bathsheba later sent word that she was pregnant, David further exploited his power with the proxy murder of Uriah, after the man proved to be so righteous that he would not break his vow of celibacy for battle, even when pressured to do so by his king.

It’s a terrible story. As it reaches its inevitable conclusion, David feels that all the mischief has been managed. He shows no signs of remorse. And the pregnant Bathsheba ends up married to the man who raped her and murdered her husband, a man who already had eight wives and concubines, as well as sexual access to all the servants, slaves, and prostitutes of his kingdom.

It’s interesting to look at the history of interpretation for this story. Scholars and preachers have portrayed Bathsheba as a scheming seductress, who wantonly induces the king’s desire. They have also suggested that this is a simple case of temptation, that the beauty of Bathsheba overcame the king’s better judgment, and one mistake led to another. We have even been subjected to a Hollywood retelling that casts David and Bathsheba as star-crossed lovers whose irresistible affections set into motion tragic events. Let’s be honest. Those ways of looking at the story are all ways of blaming the victim, of making the righteous Bathsheba responsible for the sexual assault that she endured when David’s guards showed up at her door to take her into custody.

Some things never change. Police and District Attorneys will tell you how very difficult it is to prosecute rape cases. Victims are characterized as promiscuous sluts. Their clothing or demeanor is said to have been “just asking for it.” And the victims themselves struggle with the shame of making public their experience of abuse—even as they are re-traumatized by cross-examination, publicity, and innuendo in the court of public opinion.

The story of David’s actions also reveals that the abuse of power has multiple victims. Bathsheba is obviously wronged. But so are the guards who must collect and deliver Bathsheba on the king’s orders. They know what will happen when she is left alone in the company of the king, without a father or husband to protect her. General Joab is caught in David’s terrible web. He must engineer the death of Uriah, a valiant and loyal soldier under his command, or face the consequences of disobeying a direct order from his king. Even the Ammonites, Israel’s enemies, are implicated as they are used to fire the arrows that will bring to fruition David’s murderous scheme.

Abuses of power have many victims. President Richard Nixon’s bid to ensure his continued power may have targeted the DNC, but look at all the people who were caught in his tangled web: the five Cuban ex-patriots who enacted the burglary, the forty White House officials who were indicted, the eight men who went jail because they acted on the President’s orders, and ultimately the American people whose trust in free and fair elections was undermined by the realities of political intrigue and abuse.

The same is true in our workplaces. Executives who exploit their power to dip into the corporate till exploit the trust of their board, rob their shareholders, and draw their families into their malfeasance. Workplace bullies harm not only the colleagues they abuse, but also their co-workers who are coopted into shunning the victim, covering up for the boss’s sins, or perpetrating their own abuse in a jobsite that becomes dog-eat-dog. Workers who are sexually harassed are wronged—and so are their spouses or their boyfriends or girlfriends, so are their children.

Perhaps what is most disturbing about how we have historically responded to stories like the one we are considering today is that it reveals our tendency to want to protect those who are in power, especially if their power serves our own interest. We blame Bathsheba instead of David. We give the pilfering CEO a golden parachute, and they move on to their next six-figure job where they do the same thing. We make excuses for the rage-a-holic boss, saying he’s just having a bad day, or she is going through a rough time at home, or look at how productive they are, making money for the company. We justify the antics of favorite politicians, thinking that while we don’t like what they say or do, at least they will ensure that the policies we prefer will be enacted.

In our summer sermon series, David has been our hero in the faith, but this week, as the power he wields goes to his head, David becomes our anti-hero. Indeed, his actions are the antithesis of our Lord Jesus, who came with the power of God almighty and chose to use that holy power to help and heal. Instead of lording it over the people, Jesus lived with and for the people, showing them the better way of love. And when he ran afoul of the powers of empire and temple, Jesus revealed the limitless breadth of that love, surrendering his power and laying down his life on the cross for us. Jesus set an example that continues to call us to responsibly use the authority that has been placed in our hands.

It is time for us to stop enabling abusers. It is time for us to honestly look at biblical stories like David and Bathsheba. It is time for us to honestly look at political and workplace misconduct and name those actions for what they truly are: abuses of power. It really is that simple. May we go forth to hold power responsibly and demand that others do the same.

Resources

Manuela Priesemuth. “Time’s Up for Toxic Workplaces” in Harvard Business Review, June 19, 2020. Accessed online at https://hbr.org/2020/06/times-up-for-toxic-workplaces

Coline de Silans. “Power tripping: what to do when someone misuses their authority at work,” in Welcome to the Jungle, Sept. 22, 2020. Accessed online at https://www.welcometothejungle.com/en/articles/preventing-power-tripping-abuse-at-work

Rick Perlstein. “Watergate Scandal” in Britannica, July 24, 2024. Accessed online at https://www.britannica.com/event/Watergate-Scandal

Richard W. Nysse. “Commentary on 2 Sam. 11:1-15” in Preaching This Week, July 26, 2009. Accessed online at  Commentary on 2 Samuel 11:1-15 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Gennifer Brooks. “Commentary on 2 Sam. 11:1-15” in Preaching This Week, July 29, 2018. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 11:1-15 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Timothy L. Adkins-Jones. “Commentary on 2 Sam. 11:1-15” in Preaching This Week, July 25, 2021. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 11:1-15 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Wil Gafney. “Commentary on 2 Sam. 11:1-15” in Preaching This Week, July 26, 2015. Accessed online at Commentary on 2 Samuel 11:1-15 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

2 Samuel 11:1-15

11 In the spring when kings march out to war, David sent Joab with his officers and all Israel. They destroyed the Ammonites and besieged Rabbah, but David remained in Jerusalem.

2 One evening David got up from his bed and strolled around on the roof of the palace. From the roof he saw a woman bathing—a very beautiful woman. 3 So David sent someone to inquire about her, and he reported, “This is Bathsheba, daughter of Eliam and wife of Uriah the Hittite.”

4 David sent messengers to get her, and when she came to him, he slept with her. Now she had just been purifying herself from her uncleanness. Afterward, she returned home. 5 The woman conceived and sent word to inform David: “I am pregnant.”

6 David sent orders to Joab: “Send me Uriah the Hittite.” So Joab sent Uriah to David. 7 When Uriah came to him, David asked how Joab and the troops were doing and how the war was going. 8 Then he said to Uriah, “Go down to your house and wash your feet.” So Uriah left the palace, and a gift from the king followed him. 9 But Uriah slept at the door of the palace with all his master’s servants; he did not go down to his house.

10 When it was reported to David, “Uriah didn’t go home,” David questioned Uriah, “Haven’t you just come from a journey? Why didn’t you go home?”

11 Uriah answered David, “The ark, Israel, and Judah are dwelling in tents, and my master Joab and his soldiers are camping in the open field. How can I enter my house to eat and drink and sleep with my wife? As surely as you live and by your life, I will not do this!”

12 “Stay here today also,” David said to Uriah, “and tomorrow I will send you back.” So Uriah stayed in Jerusalem that day and the next. 13 Then David invited Uriah to eat and drink with him, and David got him drunk. He went out in the evening to lie down on his cot with his master’s servants, but he did not go home.

14 The next morning David wrote a letter to Joab and sent it with Uriah. 15 In the letter he wrote:

Put Uriah at the front of the fiercest fighting, then withdraw from him so that he is struck down and dies.

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

Facing the Giant

/ reverendjoannwhite / Leave a comment

Sabbath Day Thoughts — “Facing the Giant” 1 Samuel 17

Giant stories are as old as humanity.  In that most ancient of epics The Odyssey, Homer tells the tale of Polyphemus, the gigantic, one-eyed, man-eating son of Poseidon.  As Odysseus and his crew voyaged home from the sack of Troy, they were captured by the monstrous Polyphemus. The giant ate them two at a time until the wily Odysseus outwitted Polyphemus, blinding his foe and making an escape.

Closer to home, the Algonquin people of the northern US and Canada have long told the story of the Wendigo, a giant humanoid with a heart of ice. You know the Wendigo is near by the foul smell of rotting meat and an unseasonable chill in the air. The Wendigo has an insatiable desire for human flesh. He stalks and eats people, tearing their skin with sharp claws and feasting with yellowed fangs.

When I lived in Oregon, I was told to be on the lookout for Bigfoot. The hairy, smelly, fifteen-foot-tall giant moved silently through the forest, leaving behind footprints up to 24” long and 8” wide. Spanish explorers first reported accounts of Bigfoot in the 1500s. More recently, the giant was blamed for an attack on gold prospectors on Mt. St. Helen in 1924 and the death of three migrant workers in the 1990s. A local group near the Siskiyou National Forest built a trap for the giant with reinforced concrete walls and a metal door that slid shut when sprung. They caught several bears, but no Bigfoot. When I saw the trap while hiking the Collings Mountain Trail, it was filled with empty beer cans. Either high school partiers have made it a favorite hang-out or Bigfoot has a taste for Budweiser.

Giants are huge, overwhelming, and deadly. When facing the giant, we are terrified, ready to run for our lives or paralyzed by fear. In facing the giant, we feel outmatched and hopeless. We know that we are in for the fight of our lives—and there’s a good chance that when the battle ends, we’ll be eaten.

David faced off against the Philistine giant Goliath of Gath, a hardened warrior, nearly ten-feet-tall. His armor was impregnable. A massive bronze helmet shielded his head. 125 pounds of chainmail protected his torso. Elaborate bronze grieves covered his legs. He brandished an enormous curved bronze scimitar, a massive spear with a lethal twenty-pound iron head, and a great sword—sharp enough to cut a man’s head off. For forty mornings and evenings, Goliath strode onto the field of battle and issued his terrible challenge to the Israelites—meet me in mortal combat, man-to-man, winner take all. 

The Israelites saw the mighty Goliath, heard his challenge, and were “dismayed and greatly afraid.” Their hearts raced, their knees knocked, and their bowels loosened. It was all they could do not to turn tail and run. Giants can do that to us.

We may not face Polyphemus or Bigfoot, the Wendigo or Goliath, but we all face giants. Our giants are challenges that feel ten-feet-tall. They’re problems that are huge, overwhelming, and deadly. We all have times when we feel like a frightened child, facing a monster who can eat us alive.

We face the giant of family dysfunction. Our family may look good on the outside, but we know what goes on behind closed doors. We know the harsh and hurtful words that have been spoken. We know the mortal wounds to our heart of hearts. We know the deep, dark secrets, that we guard with our lives: domestic violence, mental illness, and sexual abuse.

We know the giants of our own making, giants that grow from our choices, misguided values, or the intense pressures of our society. We wrestle with the giant of addiction to alcohol or prescription drugs, gambling or cigarettes. We struggle with workplace giants—the mind-numbing work we cannot leave; the beastly boss who threatens and bullies; the soul-stealing ethical corners we cut to find a better bottom line. We battle with the giant of debt, born of greed, over-consumption, student loans, or simply keeping up with the Joneses.

We know the giants who invade. These are the giants who come uninvited, armed with catastrophe, the giants of accident, injury, and disability. We battle the giants of chronic disease: diabetes and COPD, heart trouble and arthritis. We tremble before the giant of cancer that multiplies uninvited within our bodies in a silent deadly tide.

We all have giants. We stand before them, feeling like those Israelites did as Goliath called them to a fight to the death, winner take all. Our giants inspire fear, hopelessness, and despair. The giant bellows its challenge and our hearts race and guts churn. We’re ready to run and hide because the odds seem good that we’ll soon be eaten.

When Goliath issued his challenge for the eighty-first time, David heard. Instead of feeling overwhelmed by Goliath, David took action. He offered his service as Israel’s champion. There was only one problem. David was the least likely person in the Valley of Elah to take on a giant—just a boy, all peach fuzz, baby fat, and gangly arms and legs. He had never been in combat before. And those stories he told about battling lions and bears with his bare hands—they sound like exaggerations at best or as Hebrew scholar John Holbert suggests, “egregious lies.”

When Saul tried to suit the boy up with the proper armor to give him a fighting chance, the kid couldn’t even walk. So, David went into battle armed only with the rustic weapons that he used to keep his flock safe—his staff, a sling shot, and five stones. As the gigantic Goliath and little David faced off at the line of battle, talking trash to one another, the Philistines rubbed their hands thinking of the spoils of war, while the whole host of Israel prepared for the worst.

Then, the impossible happened. When Goliath lumbered out, brandishing his weapons of death, David ran to meet his enemy.The stone he slung found the only chink in the giant’s impregnable armor. Goliath crumbled to the ground. Before you could say Polyphemus or Bigfoot, Wendigo or Goliath, David used the giant’s own sword to cut off his huge head, and it was the Philistines—not the Israelites—who ran for their lives.

That David, he knew how to face the giant. He has a few lessons to teach us. Are we ready?

To start with, we must face the giant. Even though we don’t want to, even though every bone in our body shouts NO, face the giant we must. Because if we don’t, then we pass on to the next generation a legacy of family dysfunction.  If we don’t, our addiction destroys our health and our family. If we don’t, the stress of our toxic workplace causes a heart attack that robs us of our retirement.  If we don’t, our health declines as we deny our diagnosis, light another cigarette, help ourselves to that slice of cake, or ignore the blood in our stool. Refusing to face the giant limits us to a life of fear in which we are either paralyzed or on the run. If we won’t face the giant, then we aren’t really free to live because the giant is the one who drives our bus.

David’s second lesson in giant killing is that we don’t have to be a hero to face the giant. We don’t need to be the biggest and strongest. We don’t need to have the best and most glorious resources at our fingertips—the bronze helmet, the coat of mail, the king’s sword. When we face the giant, we feel inadequate—all peach fuzz and baby fat. But God has given us gifts and abilities that can be effective in taking on giants. If you ask a friend to name your gifts, they’ll come up with a lengthy list—persistence, moral courage, honesty, faith, friends, a voice that can speak the truth, the ability to ask for help. God gives us the gifts and the grit to take a stand. Believe it, my friends.

David’s third lesson in giant killing is that when we face trouble, we must call on the name of the Lord. In facing our giants, we think it’s all up to us. We roll up our sleeves, stiffen our upper lip, and wade into battle alone. Our self-reliance is a little like Goliath, relying on his brute strength and impressive weapons. Look where that got him. We forget that the most valuable resources in facing our giants are spiritual. We can wade into battle with the name of the great God of Israel upon our lips, the God who does not save by sword and spear. We can place our giants squarely in the hands of the almighty God, who wins the victory, even over death. We can trust that through Jesus the powers of sin and evil have already been defeated, the battle has been won for us. That doesn’t mean we’ll be instantly delivered from all that frightens and holds us captive, yet it does mean that we can face trouble head-on with confidence because the Lord is more than a match for our giants. Can I get an, “Amen”?

Everyone knows a few giant stories, don’t we? Giants are huge, overwhelming, and deadly. Facing the giant, we feel outmatched and hopeless, like we are in for the fight of our lives. It’s a good thing we’ve had some lessons in giant killing from David this morning. May we go forth to face our giants. May we trust in our God-given gifts and abilities. May we remember that God is always at work. With the Lord’s help, there is no giant that we cannot face. Thanks be to God.

Resources

John C. Holbert. “In the Name of YHWH” in Opening the Old Testament, 2005. Accessed online at In The Name Of YHWH? Reflections On 1 Samuel 17:1A, 4-11, 19-23, 32-39 (patheos.com)

Ralph W. Klein. “Commentary on 1 Samuel 17” in Preaching This Week, June 21, 2009. Accessed online at https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-12-2/commentary-on-1-samuel-171-4-11-19-23-32-49-2

Samuel Giere, Jr. “Commentary on 1 Samuel 17” in Preaching This Week, June 24, 2012. Accessed online at Commentary on 1 Samuel 17:[1a, 4-11, 19-23] 32-49 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

Roger Nam. “Commentary on 1 Samuel 17” in Preaching This Week, June 21, 2015. Accessed online at Commentary on 1 Samuel 17:[1a, 4-11, 19-23] 32-49 – Working Preacher from Luther Seminary

1 Samuel 17:[1a, 4-11, 19-23] 32-49

17Now the Philistines gathered their armies for battle; 4And there came out from the camp of the Philistines a champion named Goliath, of Gath, whose height was six cubits and a span. 5He had a helmet of bronze on his head, and he was armed with a coat of mail; the weight of the coat was five thousand shekels of bronze. 6He had greaves of bronze on his legs and a javelin of bronze slung between his shoulders. 7The shaft of his spear was like a weaver’s beam, and his spear’s head weighed six hundred shekels of iron; and his shield-bearer went before him. 8He stood and shouted to the ranks of Israel, “Why have you come out to draw up for battle? Am I not a Philistine, and are you not servants of Saul? Choose a man for yourselves, and let him come down to me. 9If he is able to fight with me and kill me, then we will be your servants; but if I prevail against him and kill him, then you shall be our servants and serve us.” 10And the Philistine said, “Today I defy the ranks of Israel! Give me a man, that we may fight together.” 11When Saul and all Israel heard these words of the Philistine, they were dismayed and greatly afraid. 19Now Saul, and they, and all the men of Israel, were in the valley of Elah, fighting with the Philistines. 20David rose early in the morning, left the sheep with a keeper, took the provisions, and went as Jesse had commanded him. He came to the encampment as the army was going forth to the battle line, shouting the war cry. 21Israel and the Philistines drew up for battle, army against army. 22David left the things in charge of the keeper of the baggage, ran to the ranks, and went and greeted his brothers. 23As he talked with them, the champion, the Philistine of Gath, Goliath by name, came up out of the ranks of the Philistines, and spoke the same words as before. And David heard him.] 32David said to Saul, “Let no one’s heart fail because of him; your servant will go and fight with this Philistine.” 33Saul said to David, “You are not able to go against this Philistine to fight with him; for you are just a boy, and he has been a warrior from his youth.” 34But David said to Saul, “Your servant used to keep sheep for his father; and whenever a lion or a bear came, and took a lamb from the flock, 35I went after it and struck it down, rescuing the lamb from its mouth; and if it turned against me, I would catch it by the jaw, strike it down, and kill it. 36Your servant has killed both lions and bears; and this uncircumcised Philistine shall be like one of them, since he has defied the armies of the living God.” 37David said, “The Lord, who saved me from the paw of the lion and from the paw of the bear, will save me from the hand of this Philistine.” So Saul said to David, “Go, and may the Lord be with you!” 38Saul clothed David with his armor; he put a bronze helmet on his head and clothed him with a coat of mail. 39David strapped Saul’s sword over the armor, and he tried in vain to walk, for he was not used to them. Then David said to Saul, “I cannot walk with these; for I am not used to them.” So David removed them. 40Then he took his staff in his hand, and chose five smooth stones from the wadi, and put them in his shepherd’s bag, in the pouch; his sling was in his hand, and he drew near to the Philistine. 41The Philistine came on and drew near to David, with his shield-bearer in front of him. 42When the Philistine looked and saw David, he disdained him, for he was only a youth, ruddy and handsome in appearance. 43The Philistine said to David, “Am I a dog, that you come to me with sticks?” And the Philistine cursed David by his gods. 44The Philistine said to David, “Come to me, and I will give your flesh to the birds of the air and to the wild animals of the field.” 45But David said to the Philistine, “You come to me with sword and spear and javelin; but I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. 46This very day the Lord will deliver you into my hand, and I will strike you down and cut off your head; and I will give the dead bodies of the Philistine army this very day to the birds of the air and to the wild animals of the earth, so that all the earth may know that there is a God in Israel, 47and that all this assembly may know that the Lord does not save by sword and spear; for the battle is the Lord’s and he will give you into our hand.” 48When the Philistine drew nearer to meet David, David ran quickly toward the battle line to meet the Philistine. 49David put his hand in his bag, took out a stone, slung it, and struck the Philistine on his forehead; the stone sank into his forehead, and he fell face down on the ground.

Photo by Gratisography on Pexels.com